marioshart64

Our bus has been impounded

This party act is grounded

We will be here forever

This was a cursed endeavor

Our Venga story’s tragic

We stole our party magic

From ancient wizard’s tower

We didn’t know his power

He turned us into weevils

And made our bus illegal

There is no hope of rescue

this looks so fake. this horses skull is bigger than the dudes entire torso. this horses NECK is thicker than the dudes entire BODY.

and then at the opposite end of the spectrum you have shit like this shetland pony which ALSO looks fake

you look at this and think “wow that’s a horse i bet I could ride that” but you’d be wrong because this is an american shetty and it’s the size of a large dog

also fun fact, this is the world’s smallest horse, thumbelina

and this is the largest horse ever, brooklyn supreme

You are not strange.

I am 24 and yet haven’t had a single relationship that went farther than friendship. And it’s alright.

I am a beautiful girl. I am funny. I am sometimes a little bit weird, but most people are. What I am has nothing to do with my relationship status. I am lovable and so are you.

Chances are you just haven’t met the person you are capabel to love yet. Chances are that somewhere on this planet there is someone who will love you the way you are.

Chances are the world has made you believe that romance is nessessary to feel complete. And that’s a lie.

I was looking for that kind of love my whole life. I had several people being in love with me but I couldn’t be with them because of a simple fact.

You can’t force yourself to love. And sometimes it isn’t meant to be.

Nobody gave my sister a badge or a trophy for being in a relationship in high school. Sometimes the relationship itself is the trophy. Sometimes it’s worse than staying alone.

I know (because I used to think that way too) that being in a relationship as a teenager seems to be the most important thing. But it isn’t. Care for yourself and learn to love yourself before you worry about your relationship status.

Sometimes you might feel alone and weird but nothing is worse than being in a relationship you didn’t really wanted in the first place, just so you could say: I am in a relationship. In the long run you will break two hearts this way.

You are not just a half. And there is nobody to complete you. You are already complete.

Lmao what up y'all I’m –$50 in my bank account and need money quick before they start charging me extended overdraw fees. Please consider commissioning me, I really need it. This is my third post about this and I’ve hardly gotten any commissions. I don’t have a secondary job so commissions are currently my only income. I hate begging for commissions because I know everyone has their own lives and bills to pay and whatnot, so if you can’t commission, please reblog this post and tag it with “commissions” or “digital art commissions”.

“Pay What You Want” commissions are exactly what they are. You pay however much you want, and I’ll put in the amount of work into that commission in accordance with the payment. Example: $5 will get you a colored icon OR a full-body sketch. 10$ could get you a colored bust or a line half-body. Etc. etc.

Here are some examples of my work:

You go to HEMA for office supplies. You go to HEMA for bed sheets. You go to HEMA for bread. You go to HEMA always, for everything, every day. There is no other shop. There is only HEMA.

You cycle to school. You cycle to HEMA. You cycle to your friends. You cycle to the big city closest to your tiny town. You cycle to the train station. You cycle to your grandparents. Your bike has broken down more times than you can count, yet, you keep cycling.

You take public transport to somewhere too far away to cycle. You’re inexplicably unnerved by this fact. You look out the window and you spot a mill on green stretches of land. You see another mill and another mill and another. You’re approaching the city center. Still, you see mills. You accept this, as everyone seems to do.

You enter Utrecht central station. You wonder if you are on an airport. You walk along the platforms, heading for platform 1. You don’t notice 6 and 10 and 13 are missing: no one ever does. And if they do, they don’t question this. Hours pass. You’re still walking toward platform 1. You thank god NS makes sure the trains are always late, so you’ll make it just in time. You arrive at the platform. “+10” it days on the sign. You sigh. You wait another 10 minutes and look again. “+20”, it says.

At the end of the basis school you take The Test. Your parents are more nervous than you. They tell you this Test dictates your entire future. The news tells you the same in a grave, slightly more ominous voice. You’re twelve years old.

When you’re in middelbare school, you notice the seniors suddenly disappear for approximately two weeks each year to perform a secret ritual in the largest room of the building. There are signs outside of this room warning you not to enter. You are frightened as the years pass, senior year coming increasingly closer; your fate uncertain as you finally enter the Forbidden Room. You cry. It’s the two most nerve-wrecking weeks of your life.

Everyone wants to go on holiday to the united states. Only a few chosen (read: rich) go. You ask them how it was and they tell you strange tales of shops other than HEMA, such as “target” and “costco”; of guns on display in supermarkets; how no one owns a bike. You stare, shaken, in disbelief and shock.

It’s the first real day of summer. It’s 20°C and kind of cloudy. You go to the beach. Everyone goes to the beach. You’re stuck in traffic for hours: everyone is headed for the same beach.

When you get to the beach, the water is cold as ice and there are jellyfish in the water. There are jellyfish on the sand. There are jellyfish in that shallow pool over there. There are jellyfish everywhere. You come back the next day. The jellyfish have vanished.

You’re sitting in the sun under a half broken windscreen. A few meters away, a boy is digging a hole. This means that the boy is german, you’ve learned. You look to your left. There, another german man digging a hole. And another. You smile ruefully. What would the beach be without germans digging holes? This is all very normal.

You go on holiday to another country. People think you’re german. You’ve accepted this. People always think you’re german. I’m Dutch, you say. They don’t understand. They laugh. You’re from germany right? They ask.

Stroopwafels seem to have built an international reputation. Foreigners adore them. You don’t understand. They’re cookies. Very good ones, yes. But the adoration for anything Dutch is something you cannot grasp.