Mar 5
“fruit is natures candy!” no it is NOT
i fucjing hate fruit
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“fruit is natures candy!” no it is NOT
i fucjing hate fruit
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Partridge in a Pear Tree (and other stories) by Vamillepudding
“For someone who claims not to like thinking,” Edwin says, raising an eyebrow, “you do a remarkably good job of it.” Charles laughs. “Tell that to my old teachers, mate.” “If they disagree, then they can’t be very qualified.” Edwin says this simply, like it’s just a fact of life. Like it’s plainly obvious that if anyone thinks Charles is stupid, it’s they who are at fault. Or: Charles grew up poor and is likely to stay that away, his job at the magic store notwithstanding. By the time he meets Edwin, he's decided that he wants a new life. In between figuring out what's up with the mysterious wish-granting pigeons, and whether he can go to the Royal Ball, Edwin makes him want to take a chance on being happy as well.
Humanity is hurting. Badly.
Not in one clean, dramatic way. Not one wound with a neat border. It's more like a whole species walking around with hairline fractures and calling it personality.
People are lonely in crowds.
Overstimulated and under-held.
Connected to everyone and witnessed by almost no one.
Angry because they’re scared.
Certain because uncertainty feels like death.
Cruel because tenderness has become too risky.
Performative because sincerity feels socially expensive.
And the brutal part is that a lot of people don’t even know they’re hurting. They experience it as ideology, as contempt, as irony, as doomscrolling, as purity, as hustle, as detachment, as “being realistic.” Pain puts on whatever mask the room will reward.
That’s why my work keeps circling validation, dignity, and recognition.
Because so much of what looks like political madness or social decay is also a crisis of unmet recognition.
People are screaming:
See me.
Don’t reduce me.
Don’t erase what happened.
Don’t make me carry what I didn’t choose.
Don’t turn my pain into your argument.
Don’t make me prove I’m human.
And instead of meeting that, society often offers sorting machines.
Left/right.
Oppressor/victim.
Good/bad.
Safe/unsafe.
Educated/ignorant.
Ally/enemy.
Acceptable/unacceptable.
Tiny moral cubbies for an animal that contains storms.
So yeah. Humanity is hurting.
And maybe the deepest ache is this:
people are desperate to be loved without being simplified.
That’s the whole damn wound, isn’t it?
Not excused.
Not worshipped.
Not endlessly affirmed.
Not absolved of consequence.
Just met.
Seen before managed.
Recognized before corrected.
Held accountable without being thrown out of the human family...
I'm trying to write something toward the place where the hurting stops needing to become hatred just to feel powerful.
it’s munday my babes ( featuring a slight glimpse of the boyfriend for the first time )
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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its so good to see all the girls reunite in pluto!!! no men in sight. what a joy.
we love a sapphic show where the only man in sight dies in the first 5 minutes of the first episode dhjgjkfg we really won 🙇🏼♀️🧎🏼♀️
Pure and Undefiled Religion
Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. — James 1:27 | The Books of the Bible NT (BOOKS) The Books of the Bible NT Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® All rights reserved worldwide. Cross References: Exodus 22:22-24; Deuteronomy 10:18; Job 29:12-13; Psalm 68:5; Proverbs 31:8-9; Isaiah 1:17; Zechariah 7:9-10; Micah 6:8; Matthew 25:35-40; Acts 20:35; Romans 12:13; Galatians 6:10; 1 Timothy 5:3-4; 1 John 3:17-18
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Undefiled Religion