Photo reblogged from Infinite Machine with 68 notes
One of my favorite poems, it is.
Source: mysteriesareopenbookstoo
Photoset reblogged from Weaving Baskets for Wounded Souls with 13 notes
My boyssssssss
I can’t overemphasize how much this cat loves me.
Upside: Finally canned that extra bank account and transferred the 15 remaining dollars to our real account. Like an adult.
Downside: I spent $5 on a steam thing and I FEEL HORRIBLE WHY DID I SPEND MONEY ON ANYTHING DEATH DEATH DEATH
Post reblogged from Atamajakki with 81,055 notes
think about the concept of a library. that’s one thing that humanity didn’t fuck up. we did a good thing when we made libraries
but we burned down the most important one in history
It never ceases to amaze me that, centuries later, people are still pissed about the Library of Alexandria.
Source: tinyjavs
I refuse to feel awful for the rest of the night. Closing you off, asshole part of my brain.
Post reblogged from Weaving Baskets for Wounded Souls with 1 note
mortalitysalience replied to your post: two people with crippling self esteem issues and…
It’s true. :/ Man, I am sorry. I tell you, I don’t even really feel mopey so much anymore. Instead, I’m furious at myself.i’m sure that’s helping you feel better?
(i am not sure that’s helping you feel better)
Personal stuff. Move on, move on uninterested parties.
I’m not even so much furious anymore.
I had a moment of feeling as though I’ve overindulged myself today, couple with wearing these pants which, for some reason, made me feel like society would look upon me as a pregnant egg. So, mopey. This mopiness was mentioned, and I responded off the cuff.
I could feel myself uttering triggering material. As it came out of my mouth, it was as though I could feel myself walking into the path of something awful that I had conjured. I just knew I had said ruinous words about myself that would spin over to you.
Immediately, I knew I had wrecked the evening.
Fumbling for words, I instead bumbled off to attend to house things, trying to think of some way to salvage. Nothing was forthcoming. Instead, I exiled myself in an attempt to reduce the awkwardness and perhaps be brightened by sleeping cats. Maybe you would recover by talking it out among friends. Then I just thought myself a coward. Then I was angry at me, again.
I’m sorry that I stomped on your evening.
I had no idea that replys were so short. I clearly don’t talk to people enough. Not that I’d know what to say to most people, anyway.
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