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this is the saddest fucking thing. wheres that post about when you cant even write a poem about it because its just there already

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good evening. my dm has made an NPC to undo me

not like a foil way but in fhe way shes so hot whenever shes in the scene i cant make rational decisions lord helo.me

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just watched the peanuts movie and my heart is happy (^_^)

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I remember someone saying "mad scientists in fiction aren't scientists because there's never a control group"

I think if you've created an elixir that turns people into goat men you have sort have gone past the need for a control group. The control group is not going to placebo themselves into goat men. You can probably not run the control group, and safely assume that none of them would have turned into goat men. That said, having a control group for that would make the mad scientist seem extra crazy and be really really funny, especially if he was carefully testing them for goat like features from the dyed water they drank instead of the elixir

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really looking forward to spending the entirety of next season just staring at murph’s hair

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hello tumblr user. in front of you stands a confident and outspoken character. your challenge today & forever is to consider the possibility they may simply have self-confidence and are not just faking to secretly cover up massive insecurities. good luck

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i got at least 3 people to believe me for upwards of 5 minutes. that was prime real estate!!!!

the real issue with the pope dying is now i cant perpetuate my lie that the pope killed 8 people with his bare hands 3 weeks ago...

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the real issue with the pope dying is now i cant perpetuate my lie that the pope killed 8 people with his bare hands 3 weeks ago...

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summa cum laude, othersa cum quiete

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Bdubs: Um, so, believe it or not - and people [laughs] - so, I started my YouTube channel on 420? April 20th? Of 2011. It wasn't - it wasn't, Bdubs got, he got into some stuff and decided, "Oaugh, I'm gonna make a YouTube channel tonight!" Uh, just coincidental, but, uh. Blaze it!

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you have it all. you are Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill Seacaster and Hallariel Seacaster, greatest pirate and fencer in the world, respectively. your parents were great, and they set you up to have a great life. it doesn't matter that you are two years older than all the other kids in your grade, and that there would therefore be a natural, social discrepancy between you and your classmates that would disadvantage you in making friends, because you spent two years adventuring around with your father, who loves you, and tells you so.

it doesn't matter that you get hurt, sometimes, by the hands of your father - he is, after all, only doing it for your own benefit, to help you get better and tougher. he means well, and says he loves you, and thus that must be true.

your mother loves you too, and she tells you so when she leaves you on your own for a year. she announces to the world how much she loves her son, and you revel in it because now everyone knows it, and maybe that will make it true. you can forget about the years spent without her, the years she focused so much on forgetting the world existed that she forgot to remember she had a child. once she did, though, she said she loved him, and see? his mother is great.

you are Fabian Seacaster, raised in a noisy household filled with rowdy pirates and sea shanties, with parties and all-nighters, with gunshots and sword-slashes and music booming. it doesn't matter that you now live alone - the entire school comes over to hang out at your place, and if you put on a podcast, a show, throw a study session or a party or ask the pirates in the barrels to sing you a song, then the silence doesn't feel like it'll take over and crush you beneath its empty fist.

the halls are big enough that there's not even an echo, barely the sound of your own breathing, and that's fine. if you keep showing up, if you keep dancing and smiling and partying people will keep coming over, and they'll choose you over and over and over again, and it won't matter that your father chose not to bail you out of jail and instead left you there for weeks. it won't matter that your mother didn't choose to remember you existed, and once you made sure that she did, chose to start a new family without you. these kids will choose you. you will give them every reason to.

you are Fabian. you have incredible friends, saved the world multiple times, you're the most popular boy in school and are Maximum Legend. you are so lucky. your father is dead. your mother doesn't think about you. your house was on fire, then hurled through the sky. your friends joke about setting it on fire again, and trigger your fears of rats, and laugh as you worry about your mother's new child, but it's all in good faith. they don't mean anything by it.

you have enough money to last you for a lifetime. if you withdraw it now, most goes to the person who traumatised you and became your sworn nemesis. it's good, though - your parents are doing this to ensure you are financially responsible. they love you. they care about you. they haven't looked at you in weeks. there's a lot of visitors to Hallariel and Gilear's room. your friends congratulate them. the hallway to your bedroom remains quiet, unwalked. you check if you have accidentally activated the ghost tattoo again, the fourth time today. the silence stretches on. you are Fabian Aramais Seacaster, and you are so lucky. you turn on your music as loud as you can to break the quietude, and you are so grateful. you are rich, and popular. your parents love you. your life rules 90% of the time. and the more people say it, believe it, the truer it gets, you've learned. that's how faith works. you choose to believe it.

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TOMMY’S IN A TIMES ARTICLE……?

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me clicking on a video from the silliest man in the world: teehee what wacky hijinks await me

world renown block clown mumbo Fucking jumbo: you ever think about how old technology seems to live forever in the suspended state of whatever the newest advancements were at the time. how most technology immediately and fundamentally tells you when it was important and when it was left in the dust. it’s suspended in its era forever, and in that it is perfect.

stagnation is a form of death but nostalgia is cruel immortality. still i find myself locked in pursuit of it until i finally stumble across the undeath of the mechanical. as my hard earned improvement truly begins to pay dividends, surrounded by my opus of change, i will freeze myself in eternal utopia. the only way to never die is to preemptively kill whoever you might become. i will not have a grave, i will not be ashes and dust. i will be a perfect, extant machine.

me: Ok. i dont think this will plague me at all actually. like video.

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my superpower is that i can make any character i want autistic. all of the bad kids are autistic. congratulations!