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Illustrations of Lungs songs for the release day of the Symphony of Lungs vinyl/CD from Florence's Insta 🫁

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the way they did not play around with these posters

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Internet hype can really ruin an experience.... I watched Conclave yesterday after the barrage of praise and love and meta and opinions and. I thought it was an ok movie.

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im sorry but when you grow up and interact with people irl youre gonna have friends where you dont fw their tastes. sometimes youre gonna meet someone chill whos also a hazbin hotel fan or have a really nice coworker that likes taylor swift and youre gonna need to mind your business and shut the fuck up or youre gonna be real lonely

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i love when you read/watch an influential piece of storytelling and you're like ohhhhhh ok i see. so everyone else was copying this guy's homework

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DONT use glasses, youll become dependent on them to see!!!! #WARONDRUGS #OVERPRESCRIPTION #CORRECTIVELENSADDICTION

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wilson knows the tumblrina struggle

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Realistically I could never get rid of tumblr because it gives me the illusion of a community of strange young women all around my same age, all slowly figuring out how to live too

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I made plans for today with a friend who I haven't seen in too long and my ovaries thought it was time to idk, implode? Randomly decided to feel like they're getting squeezed for hours at a time. Not even ibuprofen's working 😔

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We often talk about the barren hopelessness of Nicolas’ mind that Lestat sees and feels as he turns him: the bird soaring over the barren shore, the seamless sea - no meaning for eternity… but we less often talk of the last thing Lestat sees in Nicolas’ mind before he bites down to drain him…

“All the expression drained from his face as I drew nearer. His eyes were wondrously clear. And his mind was opening as Gabrielle's mind had opened, and for one tiny second there flared a moment of us together in the garret, talking and talking as the moon glared on the snow-covered roofs, or walking through the Paris streets, passing the wine back and forth, heads bowed against the first gust of winter rain, and there had been the eternity of growing up and growing old before us, and so much joy even in misery, even in the misery -- the real eternity, the real forever -- the mortal mystery of that. But the moment faded in the shimmering expression on his face.

"Come to me, Nicki," I whispered. I lifted both hands to beckon. "If you want it, you must come..."”

The last thing Lestat sees is perhaps the only true meaning for Nicolas:

“…so much joy even in misery, even in the misery -- the real eternity, the real forever -- the mortal mystery of that…”

There’s what Nicolas *truly* felt during his time with Lestat when they were both mortal. So much joy, even in misery & the only meaning in life he had ever truly felt worth trying to survive for… there, in his & Lestat’s conversation, in their love. The rest of Nicolas’ mind is hopeless. No history. No meaning. No reason. A vast infinity of nothingness. Lestat, the one real thing mortal Nicolas had to cling to.

“I would have shared anything I possessed with you!”

Unspoken words coming from him of love.

And with this in mind, imagine how Nicki felt when Lestat was torn away from him. Imagine how he felt when he saw him again. Imagine how he felt when he saw Lestat had some secret he’d kept from Nicolas.

So much joy even in misery.

Lost, forever.

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erica jong

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shout out to everyone who participated in the january-february mass depressive episode

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can't stop thinking about this

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Lestat on his third night as a vampire: oh my god look at that rat, look at his little toes.

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Can't deal with the fact that the video and sound quality of a pirated movie watched on my phone is better than the quality at [cinema I have to drive for >1h to get to].......

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salai

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Silvio Berlusconi doveva morire da piccolo