hello vonnie

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
noise dept.

titsay
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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Discoholic 🪩
Jules of Nature

shark vs the universe
Noah Kahan
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

blake kathryn
Monterey Bay Aquarium
almost home

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todays bird
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

#extradirty
Cosmic Funnies

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@kn1ckknack

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I rlly want these shoes!!
dont make me tap the sign
For every person who thinks you're "too quiet" there's one who thinks you're an amazing listener. For every person who thinks you're "too clingy" there's one who loves how much and how openly you care about others. For every person who thinks you're "too weird" there's one who admires how you dare to stand out from the crowd. For every person who thinks you're "too sensitive" there's one who respects you for being so in touch with your feelings. For every person who thinks you're "too confident" there's one who thinks your self respect is an inspiration. What's a negative trait in one person's eyes might be exactly what someone else is looking for. It's not black or white.
– via compassionatereminders
Last week I accidentally took an edible at 10x my usual dose. I say “accidentally” but it was really more of a “my friend held it out to my face and I impulsively swallowed it like a python”, which was technically on purpose but still an accident in that my squamate instincts acted faster than my ability to assess the situation and ask myself if I really wanted to get Atreides high or not.
Anyway. I was painting the wall when it hit. My friend heard me make a noise and asked what was wrong—I explained that I had just fallen through several portals. I realized that painting the wall fulfilled my entire hierarchy of needs, and was absolutely sure that I was on track to escaping the cycle of samsara if I just kept at it a little longer. I was thwarted on my journey towards nirvana only by the fact that I ran out of paint.
Seeking a surrogate act of humble service through which I might be redeemed and made human, I turned to unwashed dishes in the sink and took up the holy weapon of the sponge. I was partway through cleaning the blender when it REALLY hit.
You ever clean a blender? It’s a shockingly intimate act. They are complex tools. One of the most complicated denizens of the kitchen. Glass and steel and rubber and plastic. Fuck! They’ve got gaskets. You can’t just scrub ‘em and rinse them down like any other piece of shit dish. You’ve got to dissemble them piece by piece, groove by sensitive groove, taking care to lavish the spinning blades with cautious attention. There’s something sensual about it. Something strangely vulnerable.
As I stood there, turning the pieces over in my hands, I thought about all the things we ask of blenders. They don’t have an easy job. They are hard laborers taking on a thankless task. I have used them so roughly in my haste for high-density smoothies, pushing them to their limits and occasionally breaking them. I remembered the smell of acrid smoke and decaying rubber that filled the kitchen in the break room the last time I tried to make a smoothie at work—the motor overtaxed and melted, the gasket cracked and brittle. Strawberry slurry leaked out of it like the blood of a slain animal.
Was this blender built to last? Or was it doomed to an early grave in some distant landfill by the genetic disorder of planned obsolescence? I didn’t know, and was far too high to make an educated guess. But I knew that whatever care and tenderness and empathy I put into it, the more respect for the partnership of man and machine, the better it would perform for me.
This thought filled me with a surge of affection. However long its lifespan, I wanted it to be filled with dignity and love and understanding. I thought: I bet no one has hugged this blender before. And so I lifted it from its base.
A blender is roughly the size and shape of a human baby. Cradling one in your arms satisfies a primal need. A month ago I was permitted to hold an infant for the first time in my life, an experience which was physically and psychologically healing. I felt an echo of that satisfaction holding my friend the blender, and the thought of parting with it felt even more ridiculous than bringing it with me to hang out on my friend’s bed.

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THE BANANAS ARE GAY
THESE BANANAS
THE BANANAS IN PAJAMAS ARE GAY
BELATED HAPPY PRIDE MONTH EVERYONE
VETEMENTS x NEWROCK S/S 2023
Little areas on Onion🤍🤍🤍Nature trail, tiny snack shop, construction area, and convenient store
♡ Cute Throw Pillows from Kawaii Babe ♡
♡ Use the code MAGICALSHOPPING for 10% off! ♡
♡ Pastel Rainbow Knit Cardigan from Kuru Store ♡

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🌥️ dreaming of poptart by tay.crossing
♡ Pastel Colorblock Joggers ♡ ♡ Use the code RINIHIME for 5% off! ♡
If bats had Tumblr:
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🌵 flowerfeeder Follow
insane when you eat nectar and then get a bug in your mouth. like how does benefit either of us
🦂 piebaldpallid Follow
nutrience.
🌵 flowerfeeder Follow
3,314 notes 🔁❤️
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🩸 rotund-rotundus Follow
pissing the entire time while feeding on blood is your body giving you an s rank
15 notes 🔁❤️
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🦇 mymymyotis Follow
anyone else sick of the moths jamming their echolocation
🦋 eye-of-the-tigermoth Follow
lmao git gud
🦇 mymymyotis Follow
IKIKIKIKIKIKIK
🦋 eye-of-the-tigermoth Follow
FKFKFKFKFKFKFK
10,560 notes 🔁❤️
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🍈 fruitcrunch Follow
how tf do i remember where all these fruit trees are but not who i hooked up with last breeding season
3 notes 🔁❤️
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🥭loosey-juicey Follow
how the hell do you guys eat bugs all year but live where it snows all winter. like do you just leave
🐞 laserious Follow
we just leave.
🐛 eptesicus-serotonin Follow
some of us hibernate! :) during hibernation we go "torpid" which means our metabolism just slows down a lot so we don't need to go out and eat every night
🐞 laserious Follow
we just leave.
1,056 notes 🔁❤️
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🍍 rousettus-stone Follow
what the fuck do frog-eating bats even eat. i hope you guys are having fun tho
🐸 wingcrust Follow
name threw you for a loop huh
602 notes 🔁❤️
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dresses in art

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hey don't be sad. deeply silly 18th century Iranian bird scissors.
(source: benaki museum, auction)