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phantomemes: starters  /  prompts taken from f. d. soul’s work ,  between you and these bones .  feel free to change pronouns  /  tenses as necessary . ‘  the problem is you keep trying to use your eyes  ’ ‘  how i soften when you pull me against you  ’ ‘  you are teaching me to love  ’ ‘  i will pretend that i have not already heard the question in your eyes  ’ ‘  you perhaps will become my swan song  ’ ‘  it is a very human thing to love  ’ ‘  you are my good days  ’ ‘  i have been loved dearly  ’ ‘  i promise you will not always be this war  ’ ‘  thank god for the stubbornness of organs  ’ ‘  it takes me seven days to stop being in love with you  ’ ‘  there will always be another day  ’ ‘  there will always be another mercy  ’ ‘  perhaps i will take up dancing again  ’ ‘  what a pretty little disaster you will be  ’ ‘  i am terrified for you  ’ ‘  i will fold inside of myself  ’ ‘  today i am thankful  ’ ‘  i didn’t want to sleep because i didn’t want to wake  ’ ‘  come and get me  ’ ‘  i tell myself i do not need you  ’ ‘  i think i broke again last night  ’ ‘  i’m just trying to connect with you  ’ ‘  you are an ocean that will perhaps never stop crashing  ’ ‘  burn the house down in search of yourself  ’ ‘  don’t you dare ever stop looking  ’ ‘  i struggle not to feel guilty  ’ ‘  you are a wild  ,  unkempt thing  ’ ‘  sometimes it is a very sad thing to be human and longing  ’ ‘  find that you are made of russian nesting dolls  ’ ‘  the trees are always kindest with spring comes  ’ ‘  teach yourself the hymns again  ’ ‘  he is every amen i have ever laid down on lips  ’ ‘  this life is an altar  ’ ‘  i am sorry i do not have more time  ’ ‘  there is a mountain in me  ’ ‘  by the morning i am a triumph  ’ ‘  there are words playing hooky in the back of your throat  ’ ‘  today is by far the most beautiful creature i have ever come across  ’ ‘  there are many things that will fit beneath your skin  ’ ‘  forgiveness does not take up much room  ’ ‘  some days you will breathe and it will be enough  ’ ‘  you do not have to hold it quite so tightly  ’ ‘  there is a prayer in me  ,  still  ’ ‘  you scare me a little  ’ ‘  you can be a good thing and not a whole thing  ’ ‘  there are flowers in my chest again  ’ ‘  the rain comes and sounds like you  ’ ‘  i cannot tell you why i still trust god  ’ ‘  find peace and build a home out of it  ’ ‘  there is never an end  ’ : phantomemes: starters  /  prompts taken from f. d. soul’s work ,  between you and these bones .  feel free to change pronouns  /  tenses as necessary . ‘  the problem is you keep trying to use your eyes  ’ ‘  how i soften when you pull me against you  ’ ‘  you are teaching me to love  ’ ‘  i will pretend that i have not already heard the question in your eyes  ’ ‘  you perhaps will become my swan song  ’ ‘  it is a very human thing to love  ’ ‘  you are my good days  ’ ‘  i have been loved dearly  ’ ‘  i promise you will not always be this war  ’ ‘  thank god for the stubbornness of organs  ’ ‘  it takes me seven days to stop being in love with you  ’ ‘  there will always be another day  ’ ‘  there will always be another mercy  ’ ‘  perhaps i will take up dancing again  ’ ‘  what a pretty little disaster you will be  ’ ‘  i am terrified for you  ’ ‘  i will fold inside of myself  ’ ‘  today i am thankful  ’ ‘  i didn’t want to sleep because i didn’t want to wake  ’ ‘  come and get me  ’ ‘  i tell myself i do not need you  ’ ‘  i think i broke again last night  ’ ‘  i’m just trying to connect with you  ’ ‘  you are an ocean that will perhaps never stop crashing  ’ ‘  burn the house down in search of yourself  ’ ‘  don’t you dare ever stop looking  ’ ‘  i struggle not to feel guilty  ’ ‘  you are a wild  ,  unkempt thing  ’ ‘  sometimes it is a very sad thing to be human and longing  ’ ‘  find that you are made of russian nesting dolls  ’ ‘  the trees are always kindest with spring comes  ’ ‘  teach yourself the hymns again  ’ ‘  he is every amen i have ever laid down on lips  ’ ‘  this life is an altar  ’ ‘  i am sorry i do not have more time  ’ ‘  there is a mountain in me  ’ ‘  by the morning i am a triumph  ’ ‘  there are words playing hooky in the back of your throat  ’ ‘  today is by far the most beautiful creature i have ever come across  ’ ‘  there are many things that will fit beneath your skin  ’ ‘  forgiveness does not take up much room  ’ ‘  some days you will breathe and it will be enough  ’ ‘  you do not have to hold it quite so tightly  ’ ‘  there is a prayer in me  ,  still  ’ ‘  you scare me a little  ’ ‘  you can be a good thing and not a whole thing  ’ ‘  there are flowers in my chest again  ’ ‘  the rain comes and sounds like you  ’ ‘  i cannot tell you why i still trust god  ’ ‘  find peace and build a home out of it  ’ ‘  there is never an end  ’

phantomemes: starters  /  prompts taken from f. d. soul’s work ,  between you and these bones .  feel free to change pronouns  /  tenses...

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feedmecookiesnow: not-the-blue: @fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!!  I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. ** Practice on Me New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers. His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup. “Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.” His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?” Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?” “I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.” “Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.” “It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?” “I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading : feedmecookiesnow: not-the-blue: @fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!!  I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. ** Practice on Me New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers. His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup. “Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.” His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?” Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?” “I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.” “Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.” “It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?” “I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading

feedmecookiesnow: not-the-blue: @fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes...

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the-strongest-decoy: arcticfoxbear: by-grace-of-god: prolifeproliberty: candiikismet: gingersofficial: Life path unlocked. He’s a scientist now. If your dad is telling you in great detail about something he’s passionate about, you’re going to be hooked even if you don’t understand a word. He tells us more… So now I have to deliver a quiet lecture on the Standard Model every night. He loves lists of things, like all the streets home from daycare, or the train stations between here and Central, so he loves hearing the list of leptons and quarks and bosons. Anyway, I made this poster for him, based on the CPEP ones we used to have at uni .  Alas I ran out of room for antimatter, colour charge and confinement, but hey, maybe there can be a second poster later. It’s funny though — on the surface of it, it seems like it must be far too advanced for a 3yo. But when you think about it, quarks and leptons are no more or less real to him than, say, dinosaurs or planets, and he loves those too. And he recognises the letters on the particles. I am absolutely overwhelmed by the kind and sweet things people are saying about this, thanks everyone ❤️ Addendum: he has really grasped onto the “everything is made of atoms” part of this, so tonight he listed just about every object he could think of and asked if it was made of atoms. “And my bed?”Yes, and your bed.“And that wall?”Yep.“And the armchair?”Yes, the armchair too.……“And… the book case?”Y— “And my home?”Yep, the whole apartment block.“And your home? Oh wait, your home is my home.”Haha, it is.……“But is it made of atoms?”Yep.“And… [best friend]’s home?”Yes, it is. And [other friend]’s home, and [third friend]’s home. “Is [yet another friend]’s home?” Update from the other night: “Is my… is… [extremely long pause] is my atoms poster made up of atoms?”—Yes! Yes it is. I have never heard such a contemplative silence. I think the next poster will have to be on the philosophy of referential language. Update from this morning: after listing everything in sight (mummy? daddy? fridge? milk? cereal? table? etc.) he asks “is [baby sister] made up of atoms?” yep! *runs over to her on the floor**puts face up real close to hers*“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?” @radioactivepeasant @themagdalenwriting @iusedtohaveanaccount “HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?” : the-strongest-decoy: arcticfoxbear: by-grace-of-god: prolifeproliberty: candiikismet: gingersofficial: Life path unlocked. He’s a scientist now. If your dad is telling you in great detail about something he’s passionate about, you’re going to be hooked even if you don’t understand a word. He tells us more… So now I have to deliver a quiet lecture on the Standard Model every night. He loves lists of things, like all the streets home from daycare, or the train stations between here and Central, so he loves hearing the list of leptons and quarks and bosons. Anyway, I made this poster for him, based on the CPEP ones we used to have at uni .  Alas I ran out of room for antimatter, colour charge and confinement, but hey, maybe there can be a second poster later. It’s funny though — on the surface of it, it seems like it must be far too advanced for a 3yo. But when you think about it, quarks and leptons are no more or less real to him than, say, dinosaurs or planets, and he loves those too. And he recognises the letters on the particles. I am absolutely overwhelmed by the kind and sweet things people are saying about this, thanks everyone ❤️ Addendum: he has really grasped onto the “everything is made of atoms” part of this, so tonight he listed just about every object he could think of and asked if it was made of atoms. “And my bed?”Yes, and your bed.“And that wall?”Yep.“And the armchair?”Yes, the armchair too.……“And… the book case?”Y— “And my home?”Yep, the whole apartment block.“And your home? Oh wait, your home is my home.”Haha, it is.……“But is it made of atoms?”Yep.“And… [best friend]’s home?”Yes, it is. And [other friend]’s home, and [third friend]’s home. “Is [yet another friend]’s home?” Update from the other night: “Is my… is… [extremely long pause] is my atoms poster made up of atoms?”—Yes! Yes it is. I have never heard such a contemplative silence. I think the next poster will have to be on the philosophy of referential language. Update from this morning: after listing everything in sight (mummy? daddy? fridge? milk? cereal? table? etc.) he asks “is [baby sister] made up of atoms?” yep! *runs over to her on the floor**puts face up real close to hers*“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?” @radioactivepeasant @themagdalenwriting @iusedtohaveanaccount “HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”

the-strongest-decoy: arcticfoxbear: by-grace-of-god: prolifeproliberty: candiikismet: gingersofficial: Life path unlocked. He’s a...

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normal-horoscopes: normal-horoscopes: occultbreakfast: normal-horoscopes: viral-witchcraft: normal-horoscopes: pieandhotdogs: normal-horoscopes: trashcollectshere: normal-horoscopes: alchemicwizard: normal-horoscopes: normal-horoscopes: NOT TO DUNK ON THE ROSICRUCIANS BUT THE ROSY CROSS IS THE UGLIEST THING EVER  - HEBREW CHARACTERS FOR A CHRISTIAN ESOTERIC SYMBOL - FOUR USES OF THE ALKALAI SYMBOL BUT NO USES OF NITRE - NICE HEXAGRAM STAR TRUST US WE ARENT ANTISEMITIC - “WHAT IF WE INCORPORATED COLOR INTO THE WORKING?“ - INRI - “IS THERE A SYMBOL FOR AIR?“ “IDK DUDE JUST DRAW A BIRD“ - “WHAT ABOUT WATER?“ “DUDE JUST PICK A WATER ZODIAC“ - “WHICH WATER ZODIAC?“ “IT DOESN’T MATTER“ - “PUT GOLD OVER THE R IN REX SO PEOPLE KNOW ITS IMPORTANT“ - OCCULT GRAPHIC DESIGN IS MY PASSION Literally every aspect of it is just awful. My Hebrew isnt as good as it should be but I’m 99% certain that Hebrew is complete gibberish. ALSO the water symbol looks like aquarius which I’m sure pretty much everyone is aware is an air sign. What a fucking mess. I remember when we studied these losers in my art and occulture class I had to leave the room because I was laughing too hard at how much they suck. IT IS GIBBERISH BC ITS JUST THE ENTIRE ALPHABETWHICH IS LIKE AN INSECURE CHEF GETTING NERVOUS AND JUST PUTTING EVERY SEASONING THEY HAVE INTO THE POT I dont do occult stuff but i assume this is a mess to look at knowing the meaning but. Not knowing? The colors are awful, the symbols are placed carefully but look hard to decipher. The letters are hard to read and all around this could probably be replaced with something much easier to comphrehend and use. EXACTLY THIS IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN “GOOD” AND “BAD” SIGILWORK TO SOMEONE WITH NO KNOWLEDGE OF THE OCCULT THE ROSY CROSS /FEELS/ LIKE IT HAS POWER BUT IT ALSO FEELS JUMBLED MESSY OVERLY COMPLICATED AND JUST PLAIN UGLY WHEN IT COMES TO SIGILWORK INTRICACY = POWER BUT CLARITY = ACCURACY AND THE ROSY CROSS FAILS ON BOTH FRONTS You wanna know what the kicker is. Aquarius *is* the symbol for air here. The upper left point of a pentagram is attributed to air. The elemental points are assigned to the fixed signs of the zodiac. That’s why we see Taurus, Leo, and Aquarius. The water point is attributed to Scorpio, but they drew an EAGLE INSTEAD OF THE SYMBOL FOR SCORPIO BECAUSE FUCK IT NOTHING MATTERS SEE THEY ALREADY USED SCORPIO ON BEING ANTISEMITIC ON THE INRI DIAGRAM This looks like a fucking board game. OH MY GOD YOURE RIGHT IT LOOKS LIKE A PART TO SOME REDICULOUSLY COMPLEX BOARD GAME YOUR FRIEND SWORE IS THE FUNNEST THING EVER THE ROSY CROSS TAKES 90 MINUTES TO SET UP AND HAS FOUR DIFFERENT DECKS OF CARDS SPECIAL DICE AND TWO DIFFERENT PLASTIC HOURGLASSES @normal-horoscopes This reminds me of the Hermetic Chess invented by the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. Right down to being too colorful and overly complicated HANG ON I NEED TO GOOGLE SOME THINGS MERCIFUL NIGHT : normal-horoscopes: normal-horoscopes: occultbreakfast: normal-horoscopes: viral-witchcraft: normal-horoscopes: pieandhotdogs: normal-horoscopes: trashcollectshere: normal-horoscopes: alchemicwizard: normal-horoscopes: normal-horoscopes: NOT TO DUNK ON THE ROSICRUCIANS BUT THE ROSY CROSS IS THE UGLIEST THING EVER  - HEBREW CHARACTERS FOR A CHRISTIAN ESOTERIC SYMBOL - FOUR USES OF THE ALKALAI SYMBOL BUT NO USES OF NITRE - NICE HEXAGRAM STAR TRUST US WE ARENT ANTISEMITIC - “WHAT IF WE INCORPORATED COLOR INTO THE WORKING?“ - INRI - “IS THERE A SYMBOL FOR AIR?“ “IDK DUDE JUST DRAW A BIRD“ - “WHAT ABOUT WATER?“ “DUDE JUST PICK A WATER ZODIAC“ - “WHICH WATER ZODIAC?“ “IT DOESN’T MATTER“ - “PUT GOLD OVER THE R IN REX SO PEOPLE KNOW ITS IMPORTANT“ - OCCULT GRAPHIC DESIGN IS MY PASSION Literally every aspect of it is just awful. My Hebrew isnt as good as it should be but I’m 99% certain that Hebrew is complete gibberish. ALSO the water symbol looks like aquarius which I’m sure pretty much everyone is aware is an air sign. What a fucking mess. I remember when we studied these losers in my art and occulture class I had to leave the room because I was laughing too hard at how much they suck. IT IS GIBBERISH BC ITS JUST THE ENTIRE ALPHABETWHICH IS LIKE AN INSECURE CHEF GETTING NERVOUS AND JUST PUTTING EVERY SEASONING THEY HAVE INTO THE POT I dont do occult stuff but i assume this is a mess to look at knowing the meaning but. Not knowing? The colors are awful, the symbols are placed carefully but look hard to decipher. The letters are hard to read and all around this could probably be replaced with something much easier to comphrehend and use. EXACTLY THIS IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN “GOOD” AND “BAD” SIGILWORK TO SOMEONE WITH NO KNOWLEDGE OF THE OCCULT THE ROSY CROSS /FEELS/ LIKE IT HAS POWER BUT IT ALSO FEELS JUMBLED MESSY OVERLY COMPLICATED AND JUST PLAIN UGLY WHEN IT COMES TO SIGILWORK INTRICACY = POWER BUT CLARITY = ACCURACY AND THE ROSY CROSS FAILS ON BOTH FRONTS You wanna know what the kicker is. Aquarius *is* the symbol for air here. The upper left point of a pentagram is attributed to air. The elemental points are assigned to the fixed signs of the zodiac. That’s why we see Taurus, Leo, and Aquarius. The water point is attributed to Scorpio, but they drew an EAGLE INSTEAD OF THE SYMBOL FOR SCORPIO BECAUSE FUCK IT NOTHING MATTERS SEE THEY ALREADY USED SCORPIO ON BEING ANTISEMITIC ON THE INRI DIAGRAM This looks like a fucking board game. OH MY GOD YOURE RIGHT IT LOOKS LIKE A PART TO SOME REDICULOUSLY COMPLEX BOARD GAME YOUR FRIEND SWORE IS THE FUNNEST THING EVER THE ROSY CROSS TAKES 90 MINUTES TO SET UP AND HAS FOUR DIFFERENT DECKS OF CARDS SPECIAL DICE AND TWO DIFFERENT PLASTIC HOURGLASSES @normal-horoscopes This reminds me of the Hermetic Chess invented by the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. Right down to being too colorful and overly complicated HANG ON I NEED TO GOOGLE SOME THINGS MERCIFUL NIGHT
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randomslasher: seek-strength: geekinallitsglory: sashaalexanderisalesbianatheart: judgingitsilently: krazieleylines: typicalpony: How awesome does this sound though. You get infinite money and once a week you get to take a child to a candy store or toys or us or somewhere they love and buy them as much they want this would be fun given the kid wasn’t a brat. There is no downside to this at all This is the best, because it says A CHILD, not your child, so I could pick one of the really poor kids on the streets and go “Your life is going to change right now”, and I could buy everything their family might need, along with a house, a food supply, toys, clothes, and everything they never had the chance to have before. And the best thing is that I could do this with lots of children, and not just one. I could give a lot of children in need a full week of Christmas basically and maybe give them a chance to have a different life. That would be great. Bless u ^ humanity still exists.  Plus depending on how you define “child”, you could be helping highschool students who are struggling with application fines and even pay for college tuition, room and board, or books Bless this post and you kind hearted people. AND it says “AT LEAST” one week a month so you don’t have to stop at just one week, you could do this literally every day. And it doesn’t say it has to be the same child the whole week so you could easily pick one child each day, ‘cause let’s face it you could probably take care of most everything in that one day and spread your child-helping ability even further. : randomslasher: seek-strength: geekinallitsglory: sashaalexanderisalesbianatheart: judgingitsilently: krazieleylines: typicalpony: How awesome does this sound though. You get infinite money and once a week you get to take a child to a candy store or toys or us or somewhere they love and buy them as much they want this would be fun given the kid wasn’t a brat. There is no downside to this at all This is the best, because it says A CHILD, not your child, so I could pick one of the really poor kids on the streets and go “Your life is going to change right now”, and I could buy everything their family might need, along with a house, a food supply, toys, clothes, and everything they never had the chance to have before. And the best thing is that I could do this with lots of children, and not just one. I could give a lot of children in need a full week of Christmas basically and maybe give them a chance to have a different life. That would be great. Bless u ^ humanity still exists.  Plus depending on how you define “child”, you could be helping highschool students who are struggling with application fines and even pay for college tuition, room and board, or books Bless this post and you kind hearted people. AND it says “AT LEAST” one week a month so you don’t have to stop at just one week, you could do this literally every day. And it doesn’t say it has to be the same child the whole week so you could easily pick one child each day, ‘cause let’s face it you could probably take care of most everything in that one day and spread your child-helping ability even further. 

randomslasher: seek-strength: geekinallitsglory: sashaalexanderisalesbianatheart: judgingitsilently: krazieleylines: typicalpony: H...

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bogleech: lynati: movemequotes: Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw. But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.” The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem. On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay. But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes. But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.” The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish. And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore. Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school. The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room. When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem. ~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy … I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it : bogleech: lynati: movemequotes: Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw. But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.” The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem. On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay. But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes. But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.” The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish. And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore. Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school. The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room. When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem. ~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy … I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it
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ups-dogs: The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.: ups-dogs: The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.

ups-dogs: The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon m...

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stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me. : stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me.
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stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me. : stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me.
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stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me. : stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me.
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normal-horoscopes: trashcollectshere: normal-horoscopes: alchemicwizard: normal-horoscopes: normal-horoscopes: NOT TO DUNK ON THE ROSICRUCIANS BUT THE ROSY CROSS IS THE UGLIEST THING EVER  - HEBREW CHARACTERS FOR A CHRISTIAN ESOTERIC SYMBOL - FOUR USES OF THE ALKALAI SYMBOL BUT NO USES OF NITRE - NICE HEXAGRAM STAR TRUST US WE ARENT ANTISEMITIC - “WHAT IF WE INCORPORATED COLOR INTO THE WORKING?“ - INRI - “IS THERE A SYMBOL FOR AIR?“ “IDK DUDE JUST DRAW A BIRD“ - “WHAT ABOUT WATER?“ “DUDE JUST PICK A WATER ZODIAC“ - “WHICH WATER ZODIAC?“ “IT DOESN’T MATTER“ - “PUT GOLD OVER THE R IN REX SO PEOPLE KNOW ITS IMPORTANT“ - OCCULT GRAPHIC DESIGN IS MY PASSION Literally every aspect of it is just awful. My Hebrew isnt as good as it should be but I’m 99% certain that Hebrew is complete gibberish. ALSO the water symbol looks like aquarius which I’m sure pretty much everyone is aware is an air sign. What a fucking mess. I remember when we studied these losers in my art and occulture class I had to leave the room because I was laughing too hard at how much they suck. IT IS GIBBERISH BC ITS JUST THE ENTIRE ALPHABETWHICH IS LIKE AN INSECURE CHEF GETTING NERVOUS AND JUST PUTTING EVERY SEASONING THEY HAVE INTO THE POT I dont do occult stuff but i assume this is a mess to look at knowing the meaning but. Not knowing? The colors are awful, the symbols are placed carefully but look hard to decipher. The letters are hard to read and all around this could probably be replaced with something much easier to comphrehend and use. EXACTLYTHIS IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN “GOOD” AND “BAD” SIGILWORKTO SOMEONE WITH NO KNOWLEDGE OF THE OCCULT THE ROSY CROSS /FEELS/ LIKE IT HAS POWER BUT IT ALSO FEELS JUMBLED MESSY OVERLY COMPLICATED AND JUST PLAIN UGLY WHEN IT COMES TO SIGILWORK INTRICACY = POWER BUT CLARITY = ACCURACY AND THE ROSY CROSS FAILS ON BOTH FRONTS : normal-horoscopes: trashcollectshere: normal-horoscopes: alchemicwizard: normal-horoscopes: normal-horoscopes: NOT TO DUNK ON THE ROSICRUCIANS BUT THE ROSY CROSS IS THE UGLIEST THING EVER  - HEBREW CHARACTERS FOR A CHRISTIAN ESOTERIC SYMBOL - FOUR USES OF THE ALKALAI SYMBOL BUT NO USES OF NITRE - NICE HEXAGRAM STAR TRUST US WE ARENT ANTISEMITIC - “WHAT IF WE INCORPORATED COLOR INTO THE WORKING?“ - INRI - “IS THERE A SYMBOL FOR AIR?“ “IDK DUDE JUST DRAW A BIRD“ - “WHAT ABOUT WATER?“ “DUDE JUST PICK A WATER ZODIAC“ - “WHICH WATER ZODIAC?“ “IT DOESN’T MATTER“ - “PUT GOLD OVER THE R IN REX SO PEOPLE KNOW ITS IMPORTANT“ - OCCULT GRAPHIC DESIGN IS MY PASSION Literally every aspect of it is just awful. My Hebrew isnt as good as it should be but I’m 99% certain that Hebrew is complete gibberish. ALSO the water symbol looks like aquarius which I’m sure pretty much everyone is aware is an air sign. What a fucking mess. I remember when we studied these losers in my art and occulture class I had to leave the room because I was laughing too hard at how much they suck. IT IS GIBBERISH BC ITS JUST THE ENTIRE ALPHABETWHICH IS LIKE AN INSECURE CHEF GETTING NERVOUS AND JUST PUTTING EVERY SEASONING THEY HAVE INTO THE POT I dont do occult stuff but i assume this is a mess to look at knowing the meaning but. Not knowing? The colors are awful, the symbols are placed carefully but look hard to decipher. The letters are hard to read and all around this could probably be replaced with something much easier to comphrehend and use. EXACTLYTHIS IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN “GOOD” AND “BAD” SIGILWORKTO SOMEONE WITH NO KNOWLEDGE OF THE OCCULT THE ROSY CROSS /FEELS/ LIKE IT HAS POWER BUT IT ALSO FEELS JUMBLED MESSY OVERLY COMPLICATED AND JUST PLAIN UGLY WHEN IT COMES TO SIGILWORK INTRICACY = POWER BUT CLARITY = ACCURACY AND THE ROSY CROSS FAILS ON BOTH FRONTS
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bunjywunjy: lostinhistory: bidet-of-evil: officialukulele: nogoawayok: penguinsstealingsanity: that-ships-hellabig: phanfruit: krakkenchaos: swindontownswoodilypooper: petrovasinspace: f-i-v-e-byfive: thesixtysevenchevyimpala: ilovecountryeverything: titaniumbovine: peaceroxi: steveisoncrack: HEY TUMBLR, LET’S PLAY A GAME To play this game, go to MapCrunch, select “hide location”, make sure you have all countries unselected, and click go. What this will do is drop you in a random part of the world. It’s as if you woke up on the side of a road in an unfamiliar country. The goal of the game is to find your way to an airport so you can return home.  Bonus Hard Mode: No using outside sources, and that includes using google maps to figure out your location from signs or landmarks …I had plans today but now. THE AIRPORT GAME IS BACK. FUCK THIS GAME LAST TIME I PLAYED IT DUMPED ME IN THE MOUNTAINS OF NORWAY I PLAYED FOR LIKE 8 HOURS BEFORE BREAKING DOWN CRYING OMG NO STOP THIS GAME IS MY LIFE!!! IT’S BACK WHY IS THIS BACK WHYYYYY oh shit I HAVEN’T USED THIS GIF SINCE FEBRUARY Always reblog Mapcrunch when someone tries to bring it back it dropped me in a fucking room full of pandas Ohmygod It once dropped my in my home town a few km’s from the airport XD i think this is gonna be a problem i feel threatened also why is one of the cows blurred out who is she  I’m trapped in a bathroom and i have no reflection I am on a dock by a bay the last time I played this, it dumped me in the middle of a desert and when I turned the camera around it was literally standing next to the runway of an air force base : bunjywunjy: lostinhistory: bidet-of-evil: officialukulele: nogoawayok: penguinsstealingsanity: that-ships-hellabig: phanfruit: krakkenchaos: swindontownswoodilypooper: petrovasinspace: f-i-v-e-byfive: thesixtysevenchevyimpala: ilovecountryeverything: titaniumbovine: peaceroxi: steveisoncrack: HEY TUMBLR, LET’S PLAY A GAME To play this game, go to MapCrunch, select “hide location”, make sure you have all countries unselected, and click go. What this will do is drop you in a random part of the world. It’s as if you woke up on the side of a road in an unfamiliar country. The goal of the game is to find your way to an airport so you can return home.  Bonus Hard Mode: No using outside sources, and that includes using google maps to figure out your location from signs or landmarks …I had plans today but now. THE AIRPORT GAME IS BACK. FUCK THIS GAME LAST TIME I PLAYED IT DUMPED ME IN THE MOUNTAINS OF NORWAY I PLAYED FOR LIKE 8 HOURS BEFORE BREAKING DOWN CRYING OMG NO STOP THIS GAME IS MY LIFE!!! IT’S BACK WHY IS THIS BACK WHYYYYY oh shit I HAVEN’T USED THIS GIF SINCE FEBRUARY Always reblog Mapcrunch when someone tries to bring it back it dropped me in a fucking room full of pandas Ohmygod It once dropped my in my home town a few km’s from the airport XD i think this is gonna be a problem i feel threatened also why is one of the cows blurred out who is she  I’m trapped in a bathroom and i have no reflection I am on a dock by a bay the last time I played this, it dumped me in the middle of a desert and when I turned the camera around it was literally standing next to the runway of an air force base
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ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges: ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges

ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure fal...

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