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‘Not to Be Reproduced’ by René Magritte, c. 1937.

#aes

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(english butler voice) Will you be making an attempt on your life this evening, sir?

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i want 60 thousand votes by next thursday

#yeah and i got bullied for it. i fought and died for my country. #fanfiction dot hell

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every ship playlist i make simulator:

1. [gutwrenching melody that perfectly captures every major theme that makes this pairing so compelling, with lyrics so appropriate to their specific situation that you could write an entire essay on them]

2. hot to go! - chappell roan

#🐉 #and im right

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The Terror, Punished as a Boy.

Salvador Dalí, Cristo de San Juan de la Cruz (detail)

#the crucifixion as a rebirth in darkness!! #the terror

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"what if i'm misinterpreting this character whose only discernable character traits and motives are being impossible to interpret" and other rational fears

#🐉

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the right hairstyle for your face is the one that makes you smile when you see yourself in the mirror btw.

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love when christians threaten ppl with the rapture. like youre all gonna leave at once? for free? im so downnn

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me going to bed tonight

#save me chappell roan

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#twice at the same institution lol. they didnt make the mistake of letting me back in a third time.

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it’s easy to forget, so I’ll remind y’all: you can make fantasy versions of anything. yes even things you might not think about. like soil types. I am thinking of fantasy soil types right now

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what happened to him? he didn't make a post about VAL siltverses today [camera pans to show me whimpering and crawling on the ground]

#🐉 #always thinking about her. terrified ive gotten too fanonbrained and mischaracterised her.

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i know this sounds like the kind of post a guy who was chained in a basement like a dog for most of his life and only recently emerged in the world would make but it really does mean so much to me that i can casually talk about seemingly mundane things like having friends and being able to make my own decisions for myself now. it isn't easy but god damn. it really does get better if you just keep looking for the light.

#🐉 #i was only chained in a basement metaphorically fortunately. sometimes by my own brain but so it goes.

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they used to make smackable technology. you used to be able to hit your tv when it didn't work good.

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i've been noticing how often i refer to my friends in conversations lately and it's actually making me a bit emotional. if there's one thing i could tell my younger self, who didn't have a single friend to confide in and thought that he never would, it would be that one day he'd have so many wonderful people in his life that he wouldn't even be able to go a single interaction without bringing up someone he loves at least once.

#🐉 #saved this to my drafts earlier and fuck it i need to feel happy after my night was just ruined by my roommate #so im posting it now #but genuinely so insane to me that i can just SAY stuff like 'my friend' now

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“I, too, feel the need to reread the books I have already read,“ a third reader says, “but at every rereading I seem to be reading a new book, for the first time. Is it I who keep changing and seeing new things of which I was not previously aware? Or is reading a construction that assumes form, assembling a great number of variables, and therefore something that cannot be repeated twice according to the same pattern? Every time I seek to relive the emotion of a previous reading, I experience different and unexpected impressions, and do not find again those of before. At certain moments it seems to me that between one reading and the next there is a progression: in the sense, for example, of penetrating further into the spirit of the text, or of increasing my critical detachment. At other moments, on the contrary, I seem to retain the memory of the readings of a single book one next to another, enthusiastic or cold or hostile, scattered in time without a perspective, without a thread that ties them together. The conclusion I have reached is that reading is an operation without object; or that its true object is itself. The book is an accessory aid, or even a pretext.”

— Italo Calvino, If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler