I, to whom nature had denied the impromptu faculty; who, in public, was by nature a cypher; whose time of mental activity, even when alone, was not under the meridian sun; who needed the fresh silence of morning, or the recluse peace of evening, to win from the Creative Impulse one evidence of his presence, one proof of his force; I, with whom that Impulse was the most intractable, the most capricious, the most maddening of masters (him before me always excepted)--a deity, which sometimes, under circumstances apparently propitious, would not speak when questioned, would not hear when appealed to, would not, when sought, be found; but would stand, all cold, all indurated, all granite, a dark Baal with carven lips and blank eye-balls, and breast like the stone face of a tomb; and again, suddenly, at some turn, some sound, some long-trembling sob of the wind, at some rushing past of an unseen stream of electricity, the irrational demon would wake unsolicited, would stir strangely alive, would rush from its pedestral like a perturbed Dagon, calling to its votary for a sacrifice, whatever the hour--to its victim for some blood or some breath, whatever the circumstance or scene--rousing its priest, treacherously promising vaticanation, perhaps filling its temple with a strange hum of oracles, but sure to give half the significance to fateful winds, and grudging to the desperate listener even a miserable remnant--yielding it sordidly, as though each word had been a drop of the deathless ichor of its own dark veins.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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Don’t like it? Become God
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omg i was at starbucks and there was this girl and she had her hair in a bun and had a crop top with flowers on it and i hissed “hipster blog” and she turned around and snarled “fandom blog” and then we shook hands and exchanged urls her tumblr is pretty nice i dont see why there’s a rivalry we’re all wasting our lives on the same goddamn website
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“Peaceful moon. I consist only of bones.”
— Franz Kafka, from a diary entry featured in “The Diaries of Franz Kafka: 1910-1923,”
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{OO} \__/ | | | there is absolUtely no point of making tUmblr posts if | ^ | the posts aren’t contained inside a snake! /‘’’\ | |____________________________________________/ / \_______________________________________________/
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“…You are, I think, an evening star, of all the stars, the fairest…”
— Sappho, from ‘Fragments’
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a note from dolores in the chapbook dykes for an amerikan revolution, 1971
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Is anyone free to babysit this Friday? Here’s my preferences, in order:
Jade, obviously.
Sollux. I really admire the work you’ve done with Lilith’s hand-eye coordination - at this rate she’ll be able to pay off her student loans through competitive play.
Roxy. (The only reason you’re not higher up is because I can’t take the remote risk that your cool aunt routine will get more popular than my cool mom routine.)
Nepeta. We love a cat or two!
Dave. If you buy her another baby moped or take her to get candy in bulk from Costco again you’ll perish in three to five business days.
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“Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief.”
— Anne Carson, in the preface to Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides
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Lesbians: If you drop some french fries and fish tacos off on my doorstep then me and my Pokemon cards will tell you how you die.
Do you think Uber Eats takes tarot readings as a form of currency? I’ll even pull out my custom deck for flair.
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Do you think Uber Eats takes tarot readings as a form of currency? I’ll even pull out my custom deck for flair.
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Isn’t it funny how everyone is like background characters in other people’s stories. Except me of course because I’m sexy and important. But like, all of you guys
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