...and queer

while i slouched, nearly stooping, suddenly there came a booping, as of someone gently booping, booping at my chamber door. tis some mutual, i said, booping at my chamber door. only this and nothing more.

Edgar Allan Boop

(walking down a street and not stepping in any needles, glass, rotten food, loose bags or bottles of piss) this whole damn place has gone to shit

The amount of slavery in Ancient Rome was legitimately terrifying tbh

Y’all know that I’m into ancient Roman history and I do a lot of research on it but even though I should be used to it by now sometimes I read an anecdote about how an individual slave was treated and I’m hit with the realization that like a third of the population was living like that and I just need to put my head in my hands for a second

When you study ancient history you’re reminded that slavery has never once been kind or justified. It just takes on different forms of evil in every time and place that it infects.

you are my friend and to some extent the altar upon which i mount my guilt

you are my friend and to an increasing extent the saviour i worship

you are my friend and i hope something ruins you before i do

damn they ain't lying, it is like talking to a fucking genie with you people.

I am pleased by people messaging me telling me that after adding a carb or protein to their snacks or meals they feel more satisfied all day. Yes, my plan is working. People are getting through their days with less hangry.

recurring dead wife flashback where it becomes increasingly apparent that the person remembering her has dishonestly claimed a romantic dynamic to their relationship that never actually existed and erased any conflict that ever existed between them now that she's no longer able to say no to them

dead wife flashback where each time we see her she looks more confused and upset by how she's remembered, then desperate and furious, until she's hammering on the glass screaming to be let out

this isn't how it happened. you know this isn't how it happened. but you still keep coming back, keep disturbing my grave so you can play out your fantasies. voyeurs crowding around my autopsy, straining for the best view; pawing through my entrails like grubby butchers trying to find some golden meaning in blood and shit because you can't bear to face the cold light of truth. you just can't bear the thought of never having really known me at all.

chuckling fondly you missed that social cue. classic you. lets grab dinner

the oldest reblogs for this post that i can find are from january 2nd of 2013. this can has been getting kicked around tumblr for almost 13½ years now

And yet somehow this is my first time kicking it!

the one great thing about dogs with necks is that you can put beautiful collars on them

Until death, all defeat is psychological.