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what people think alice oseman books are like: blushing awkward first meetings, little chaste first kisses, giggling teenage boys holding hands what alice oseman books are actually like: hey what if your entire personality is actually a carefully constructed facade to make other people like you and to disguise the fact that you don't actually know who you are. if you stripped away all the walls, all the artificial things that you think make you up, what would be left? what would happen if you stopped living for other people and started living for yourself? is there even a person in there or just a gaping void with nothing left in it? wouldn't that be fucked up? do you even know yourself? do you even have a real personality anymore?

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this is a terrible time to be alive *remembers the latter half of the 14th century* this is a not so good time to be alive

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“Babel” by Cildo Meireles (2001)

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02/28/2025

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I'll be honest...I'm just watching the clips on Instagram and Tiktok, I've never actually seen a full episode of Make Some Noise 👽

Watch the full episode on Dropout

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Wired has been keeping a good watch on the doge bullshit, I'm glad they're going to put that information out there for everyone online that wants to see it.

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to this day i cannot BELIEVE aang called up and blew off like nine avatars just because they didnt offer any vegan options to ending the war

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i was at Everyone Hates You island no one was there <3

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Louise Glück, “A Work of Fiction”, Faithful and Virtuous Night

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Lawrence Daily Journal, Kansas, March 18, 1898

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I'm rereading Unseen Academicals and hit this "me and bad bitch I pulled by being autistic" moment

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Sir Terry Pratchett awakens. A skeleton stands at his bedside, wearing a long black robe. He sits up. “Well, hang on, let me get my hat,” he tells it.

The skeleton reaches into its robe. From abyssal depths it produces a heavy book bound in sheets of lead and night. It is the kind of book that gets stolen by a rugged adventurer from a temple with more spike-traps than the average house of worship contains. It is the kind of book to which the word “tome” might properly be applied. Frost forms on its pages from the lingering chill of the void. 

The skeleton coughs once and holds the book out to the man sitting on the bed.

WOULD YOU SIGN THIS? it asks. BIG FAN.