Music Maker. Dreamer of Dreams.

here’s a concept: me, riding your ceiling fan like a gargoyle. you, smacking me with a broom. both of us are yelling

i could go back and look for him but what if he's mad at me i cant handle that sort of confrontation. what if he is powerful now

in mesopotamia there were no 'cover letters' or 'curriculum vitaes'. there were just, pots.

And copper ingots. Very high quality ingots from a very reputable merchant

#tumblr's dedication to dragging ea-nasir from across history is one of my fave things about this hellsite

This post took 3 years off my life

I’ll take “words that perfectly describe the Académie Française but which would literally kill them to hear” for 500, Alex.

time for a kickstarter to force them to hear these words

(as i scroll through tumblr looking at all the posts) hmm… beneath me, beneath me, juvenile… petty and childish… beneath me… this one is good. beneath me, juvenile, beneath me

this is themost pretentious post ive ever seen

yeah? come off anon and face me then. 

This was better than I imagined