Fuck productivity. Its cold, and I'm hibernating
Having younger siblings who are set on the mindset that I never want them to succeed is exhausting. Why would I want that? I actually wish you success where I failed. I want to give you all the roadmaps marked with all the potholes I fell in so that you don't. I slept with an eye open and the fan off so that I could hear all the sounds and intervene if a fight broke out. You didn't notice. I didn't want you to. My life has been a patchwork of failures that I have woven together as successes. I have never hidden that. You use those failures as an argument when we fight. (It hurts) I took things you didn't like, unknowingly. I have forgotten what I liked, but I know your choices. I am sorry I am harsh on you sometimes. Please I love you, you are family. I don't think I'll love someone that much.
there is something so darkly comical about tumblr potentially outliving twitter
tumblr, which is held together with duct tape and madness, run by three raccoons in blood stained Yahoo! hats and a handful of crabs, its only discernible source of income the sale of shoelaces from an inside joke so inside no one knows the original source anymore and fake blue checkmarks... that website still lives on
truly the cockroach of social media and I love it for that
complicated relationships with your parents are like. you cut up fruit and bring it to my room without me asking. i can't remember the last time you told me that you were proud of me. you told me i wasn't good enough for you but i'm not even good enough for myself. your hugs feel like coming home. i can't tell you anything that happens in my life. i doubt myself every day because of something you said to me when i was eight. would you like to hear about my day? please don't ask me about my day. i miss you even though you're in the next room. i wish we didn't live together. i've never loved or resented anyone as much as i've loved and resented you. are you okay? are we okay? are we ever going to be okay?
how to be a god
speak with a smirk, your smile can be a magnet. speak with a scowl, your eyes could cut like daggers.
walk with your head high, let your wings stretch as wide as possible. never look down on mortals, you’re meant for the skies.
dress to the nines no matter the occasion. ballgowns from any time period, victorian suits, knights armor. blood stains are simply proof of your power.
stain your lips with cherries or pomegranates, or even blood. slip daggers into your hair and tie your hair back with gold chains. never forget to adorn your head with a crown.
always touch, never be touched. let your hands roam their body freely, and take your time sizing up your pray. when you kiss them, don’t forget to bite.
carry around books from the crusades, from witches, from the romans. read to remember the battles you were apart of, the stories written after you.
speak in latin, in ancient greek, in ancient tamil. let the mortals know your words have power. scrawl ominous sayings across the wall, whether it be in blood or wine
every day feast as if there’s no tomorrow. accept only ambrosia and wine. sit at the head of your table and unfurl your wings, the world is at your fingertips.
let the women circle around you, shouting your name in a crazed way. let them dedicate their lives to your glory, let them kill to be near you. you are above all.
take your time. time runs by you, drink your wine slowly, scrawl threats on paper without rush, slide your sword into the mere mortal tenderly. you own the world.
ancient greek word of the day: θεομαχέω, to fight against the gods
I'm some kind of modern-day narcissus myself. 😎
Sapere aude
Sometimes it's just you and your unconventional wardrobe against your mental illnesses and neurospiciness.
Anyone in cbse biology ? Heres a way to learn the fucking krebbs cycle
“Cindy is kinky so she fucks more often”
Cindy = citate and cis-aconitate
Is = isocitrate
Kinky = ketogluterate
So = Succinyl COA
She = succinate
Fucks = Fumarate
More = Malate
Often = oxalo-acetate
Beware of the barrenness of a busy lifestyle | I write sometimes | 18
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