#I have been having THOUGHTS

[wordsofawanderingsoul]

[cyberlights]

Amulet Rant Time

Okie dokie Waverider is out and thus has concluded the series…so it’s time for a little…bonfire, we’ll call it.

Now don’t get me wrong. I still love this series and always will. I’ve been in the fandom since about Prince of the Elves. I literally have grown up with this series in my backpack from the moment I checked it out of my school’s library. I spent my first summer job paycheck buying all the books out at the time. This series holds a very special place for me.

I also understand that after Book 5(? I’m typing this out on mobile so I can’t verify), Kazu got very sick and lost a lot of his memories, which affected how he wrote Amulet and thus the rest of the story, so I’m not going to say he was a trash author.

There are just certain things that just…have not worked out post Escape from Lucien. And honestly, this is going to be more of a venting ramble than anything, so for the new readers coming in, take it with a grain of salt. You can still enjoy the series, fall in love with the characters, etc. That’s why we enjoy it.

Now I’m gonna do everything else under read-more so spoilers ahead.

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We good? Okay, good.

I already stated that I give Waverider a 1/10. It actually is not my least favorite book, to be honest. (That “honor” goes to Supernova)

Trellis leaving the throne?

As others have pointed out, after Escape from Lucien it made no sense for him to just up and skedaddle. That boy was adamant he was going to lead his people. That’s what his whole plot was in the book, and him accepting more of that role in Firebird/the beginning of Supernova. Heck, they even pointed out that Gabilan, even though… voted in(?) as the new king was not doing a good job of it. Gabilan himself fully expected Trellis to take back the throne (albeit by force which is not really Trellis’ style). It felt very much like unnecessary step back from three books worth of development.

I can’t say much about Gabilan because while he did establish in The Cloud Searchers he wanted to be king, it didn’t feel right. Like there was nothing driven past that, that would say he wanted to be king. Honestly besides a tiny bit in Firebird he didn’t get as much character development as he should have, if at all. Which is why, if he was planned to take over from a while ago, probably should have had happened sooner.

Ronin and her Students

Speaking of introducing sooner, this is where I feel having a whole ‘nother two books would have helped the story, because this was just…so terribly executed.

I can’t tell you a single thing about her students except one turned into a turtle and another Cthulhu. I can’t even tell you anything about Ronin beyond her “I was right” mentality (and the mask, not sure why she was wearing a mask).

They all felt very shoe-horned in. I have no attachment to these characters, no real interest in seeing them succeed. They were brought in to fill a plot hole, while simultaneously making another plot hole in their wake.

Overall Problems with the Series

Genre Confusion

I think we’ve already established that Amulet would have been better off as a fantasy series than sci-fi. That is honestly my biggest problem with Supernova, was that was a giant Sci fi wedge in what was predominantly a fantasy series (I know we started more in Escape from Lucien and Firebird, but this is where I feel we veered too off course)

We honestly could have completely cut the sci-fi bit, changed a few things around between Escape from Lucien and Firebird, cut out most of Supernova -which yes, would have wrecked Navin’s sideplot, but there was different options that could have happened.

We don’t need the additional aliens/planets. Those characters could have easily just been Alledian on different parts of Alledia and we would have never known. We don’t even know what most of Alledia looks like because we’ve only been to a handful of places that predominantly look the same.

Which brings me to

Ikol and his Masters

I was so confused by the end of their story. They’re aliens but not. They were created by Silas but they have been around for eons. Everything was Made by Silas to Protect his Family. I just…*sigh*

It felt like they were beating the already dead piñata (pun partially intended).

Silas died in the first book. The consequences of his actions were established to be that he got a bunch of students killed and he ended up passing a huge burden onto Emily that should have gone to her mother. I don’t know why he had to be brought out as this.

Ikol could have very much remained a Chaotic Entity that thrived on the turmoil, his “masters” being a lie to convince Emily that he too was not in total control of the situation so he could slip her more into his control. We already know he likes collecting powerful stonekeepers who are vulnerable enough to fall sway to his side.

Heck, he comes back every 500 years to wage war with the elves and probably (should he have remained the entity) thought of it as one big game.

Having him turn into a somewhat malevolent AI that was just following orders to a T just…does not make sense to me. Especially if he was causing havoc with the elves for so long as implied.

Time-Travel

Okay honestly this is my biggest gripe with the later books.

We established, Books 4 and 5, time-travel was not possible.

All it does is send them back to interact with their memories. They don’t actually change anything about their lives outside the Void.

So having Future Emily and her son come back and save Present Emily throws all of the continuity out the window. And Future Emily’s little interaction with Ikol where it’s implied that they’ve done this over and over? Felt so weird after they actually dealt with Ikol. It felt like a useless little tag on that we ended up not actually needing. (Again, Supernova is my least favorite book for a lot of reasons)

Stonekeepers Good but Bad

*sighs again* Yes. This part would feed into the Problem of Too Many Characters Amulet has going on. But. We were not shown examples beyond our current group (Meaning Emily Trellis and somewhat Vigo) of good stonekeepers.

The Guardian Council that ruled over most of Alledia for centuries? Corrupt.

Silas? Self serving. (Despite being called hero numerous times, we were not actually shown anything he did besides stopping the rampaging stonekeepers back in The Stonekeepers Curse, and even then we weren’t actually shown, just told he did it.)

The Elfking(s)? Corrupted by their stones.

Most of Alledia in the early books respect Stonekeepers enough to kinda hold them in reverence. But we’re not shown anyone (beyond a couple panels of someone building stuff) notable enough to say Yes. Stonekeepers good. Anyone else who is mentioned is “Yeah, they were good, but they listened to their stone and turned into a rampaging monster” (Honestly Gabilan has more of a point here)

I get that’s why Ronin and hers were introduced, but they were introduced way too late into the series for it to feel that there could be some sort of balance.

Emily is one big outlier too here. She’s good but because she feels she has to be and has been told she has to be. Firebird honestly put a nice spin in this because we do see her fall. But Supernova kinda nixed that development sooooo.

*cough*ThisiswhatOCsarefor*cough*

Conclusion

Now those are the biggest ones that have bugged me for a while in addition to the new stuff from the new book. @motherstone has already touched upon multiple times some of the other issues that I tend agree with (go check them out, their art is amazing and I love their ideas. Also looking forward to their rewrite!)

Is there some technical issues with the books as well that bug me? Yes. (The later books are very over saturated in comparison to the older ones and it kinda shows, and I believe that Motherstone already touched upon the “smoothification” that started taking place about book 4/5, and there were quiet a few panels that felt very unfinished in the later two books)

Am I sad to see the series end? Yes. But Kazu at least finished as best he could to the end instead of half assing it or completely dropping the series altogether, and I can respect that.

Do I already have my own post-book 6 AU that I’m willing to ramble about at the drop of a hat? Also Yes. (May also heavily be influenced by some OCs)

Overall, I enjoyed Amulet enough to see it through the end. Books 3-5 will remain my favorites. I still will cherish the characters that we got. Amulet is probably the first thing that actually got me into interacting with Fanart and Fandom, so I’d say it’s a pretty big part of what developed me. And for the newbies. Hi! I see you! I look forward to seeing what you do with the series!

See y’all around!

(And btw, if you drop something in my ask box, I’ll apologize in advance if I don’t get to it. I tend to forget I have one)

[thegeekyartist]

Re: anti-intellectualism and those modern art posts floating around

Last week in my art class we discussed abstraction, both objective and non. The students had a pretty neutral reaction to objective abstraction (abstract art that has a tangible subject - think Picasso), but when we got to the non-objective abstract art (probably what pops into your mind when you think "abstract art"), things got heated.

They absolutely hated it. All of it. I showed Mondrian's Composition with Red, Blue, and Yellow ("This is stupid. It's just lines."). I showed Jackson Pollock's Convergence ("I could do that. What's the point?"). I showed Robert Rauschenberg's White Painting (abject rage). Just to name a few.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love discussing this. It's perfectly acceptable to have a reaction to fine art like this. However there was NO understanding or critical thinking about the pieces, even when I explained the meaning and process and context for each one. They firmly believed that art like this was entirely pointless because it didn't have a subject or message. They weren't even open to the idea. I even had one student leave.

Flash forward to this week. We had a student return to class after being sick. She missed the abstract lesson and discussion, but had a previous piece that she completed for homework and wanted to share. It was a digital collage that sort of resembled a flower. She said "It doesn't really mean anything, I just made it and I liked it." And all the students were praising it during critique. So I asked them, "Last week you said that art without deeper meaning isn't really art. That there needs to be a clear message and purpose for it to be 'good'. So why is this one different?"

No one had an answer for me.

Capitalism has poisoned our minds into believing that the only art that has worth is art that serves a higher function -- to inform, to entertain, to sell a product. It has to be 'good', it has to be 'pretty'. There is no art for the sake of art anymore. And it's affected our ability to look at artwork from the past through an objective lens. It's much easier to call something stupid than to ask yourselves the tough questions -- Who made this? Why did they make it? How did they make it? What was the reception and what did that mean for art moving forward?

You don't have to like abstract art. It's not a question about liking anything, in fact I'm sure (I'm positive) many of the abstract artists expected their work to be hated. But the point is that sometimes the meaning isn't in the artwork itself, but rather how we react to it and where this art sits in regard to what came before it and what was created after.

What is art? What is the line between 'good' and 'bad'? And who are we to decide when and where to draw it?

[mikonez]

and I've been slower than I thought at getting my life off the rocks,

nobody thinks I'm special yet

- Time Comes in Roses, Bess Atwell

[w0lp3rtinger]

Shadow's inhibitor rings inhibiting not just intake and expulsion of chaos energy, but also act as a antihypersensitivity/antipsychotic measure in which case the creature has had their mental function and wellbeing altered without their consent far more than we could or have ever realized send post.

[powerbottomblake]

if I think for more than 20 seconds about how the locked tomb tackles its central theme which is Love my brain propels itself against my cranium repeatedly and hard enough for a spontaneous concussion to occur bc!!! bc like!!!

it's about how Love isn't good or bad it just IS and like all human phenomena it is powerful it's a sword's edge that you either get to handle or impale yourself on love as a force of nature that can be just as destructive as it is healing love when it is codependent love when it is steeped in bitterness love when it is possessive love when it goes too far and erases the boundaries of the Self until it disappears into the loved's love turned to grief that is unresolved and mishandled and a timebomb that explodes and takes in its wake everyone involved

and through it all the lovers' journeys of both gideon and harrow who have to reckon with the mortifying ordeal of having to LIVE with loving each other, taking each other whole in their imperfections while still being their own separate people instead of competing for who gets to self-destruct the fastest and in the biggest grandest fashion on the altar of a love that is forever idealized frozen and unattainable anyway please read the locked tomb

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

Time for another obscure character comparison post! This time through excerpts from each story.

Connecting thread: a sad, traumatized man who just wants to go home to his family and thinks he’s a coward but is just out there doing insanely brave things like rescuing girls from crazy people who are trying to kill them.

           Suddenly, Slarb’s growl was cut short. Trembling, Leeli opened her eyes and saw the Fang’s claws clutching desperately at an arm locked tight around his throat.            She couldn’t see the person’s face, only a tuft of white hair sticking up from behind Slarb’s shoulder- but the arm around Slarb’s throat had a dirty knitted sock pulled up to the elbow.            Slarb’s black eyes wheeled in their sockets as he scratched and dug into the socked arm, but it did no good. The arm held firm. Slarb staggered backward and turned away from Leeli, revealing lanky Peet the Sock Man, who was either brave enough or foolish enough (and maybe both) to attack a Fang barehanded, or sock-handed, as it turned out.            Peet’s eyes were squeezed shut as he hung on desperately to the thrashing Fang. Slarb’s teeth were bared and oozing with yellowish venom, but his movements were slowing down.            Leeli began to hope that just maybe she would live to see her family and Nugget again. Peet was grunting, straining to keep his grip on the twisting beast; though blood was soaking the sock where Slarb’s claws were digging into Peet’s forearm, he showed no sign of pain.            Slarb spun around, so fast that Peet’s feet flew out behind him. The Fang lurched this way and that, his tail whipping the underbrush. Finally he fell first to one knee and then to the ground, unconscious.            Peet lay on top of Slarb, gasping for air. After a moment, he loosened his grip and carefully slid his arm out from under the creature’s neck. When Peet saw Leeli, he relaxed and stood up, brushing himself off as if embarrassed Leeli was still crouched down in the brush at the edge of the trees, looking warily at her rescuer.            “Thank you,” she said timidly. “That was very brave.”

-The Wingfeather Saga book one: On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness by Andrew Peterson (tv show based on the book coming December 2nd!)

 *

           “Well how about it?” inquired Dustfinger, taking a step back. “Do you dare come in here with me, or would you rather go on hitting little girls?”            Basta stood there motionless, like a child whose ears have been suddenly and unexpectedly boxed. Then he seized Meggie’s arm and dragged her toward him. She felt something cold on her throat. She didn’t have to see it to know what it was. Her mother screamed and pulled at Dustfinger’s hand but he only held it higher in the air. “I knew it!” he said. “What a coward you are, Basta! You’d rather put a knife to a child’s throat than venture in here. Of course if Flatnose were here to back you up, too, with his broad back and his great fat fists- but he isn’t. Come along, you’re the one with the knife! I’ve got nothing but my hands, and you know how I hate to misuse them for fighting.”            Meggie felt Basta’s grip relax. The blade was no longer pressing into her skin. She swallowed and put a hand to her throat. She almost expected to feel warm blood, but there was none. Basta pushed her away so hard that she stumbled and fell on the damp, cold floor. Then he put his hand into his pants pocket and brought out a bunch of keys. He was panting with rage like a man who had run too far and too fast. Fingers trembling, he put the key into the lock of the cell. Dustfinger watched him, his face impassive. He gestured to Meggie’s mother to step back from the grating and retreated himself, nimble as a dancer. You couldn’t tell from his scarred face whether he was afraid or not, but the scars looked darker than usual.            “What’s that for?” he said, when Basta came into the cell and held out his knife. “You might as well put it away. If you kill me you’ll spoil Capricorn’s fun. He won’t forgive you for that in a hurry.”            Yes he was afraid. Meggie could hear it in his voice. The words were spilling out of his mouth a little too fast.            “Who said anything about killing?” growled Basta as he closed the cell door behind him.            Dustfinger retreated as far as the stone coffin. “Am you were thinking of adding a few more decorations to my face?” he was almost whispering. There was something else in his voice now- hatred, scorn, rage. “Don’t expect it to be so easy this time,” he said softly. “I’ve learned a few useful tricks since then.”

…

           “I’ll cut your filthy fingers off if you try to touch me!” yelled Basta, his face red with rage. “Every one of them, and your tongue into the bargain.” He lunged with the knife again, cutting through the air with the bright blade, but Dustfinger avoided it. He was leaping around Basta faster and faster, ducking, retreating, advancing, but suddenly he found that his fearless dance had trapped him. He had only the bare wall behind him now, and the grating cutting off his retreat to the right- and Basta was coming straight at him.            At that moment Meggie’s mother raised her hand. The stone hit Basta on the head. Astonished, he spun around, looked at her as if trying to remember who she was, and put his hand to his bleeding face. She never knew how Dustfinger did it, but suddenly he had Basta’s knife in his hand. Basta was staring at its familiar blade in amazement, as if he couldn’t grasp the fact that the faithless thing was pointing at his own chest.

-Inkheart, by Cornelia Funke

 *

Tillman had knocked the white ironstone bowl off his tray, shattering it on the tile next to him. “I told you!” he yelled, swinging his feet off the bed, and kicked at the shards to make room to stand. “I said they were here!”

Belle wasn’t sure whether the bowl being sent to the floor was purposeful or an accident, but it had to be cleared up either way, before he cut his feet on it. “Stay right where you are,” she said. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I don’t take orders from your kind,” Tillman said, fixing her with that severe look again.

Turning back to Captain Gold, she sighed, giving him a smile. “I’ll be right back - I’m going to clean up before he and Gardner can start something over it.”

Belle took the tray from the end of the bed and sat it on the floor so that she could place the broken pieces on it. Tillman squatted down next to her, apparently having snapped out of it and deciding to help. “Thank you,” she said. “Be careful, don’t cut yourself.” At least ironstone didn’t shatter to virtual sand as some china did. She concentrated on picking up the small fragments he’d scattered, and he reached for a larger piece.

Before she knew it, he’d hauled her to her feet, holding her against him with an arm wrapped in an iron grip around her chest and upper arms, pressing the point of the ironstone shard to her neck.

Belle pulled at his forearm on instinct. “Lieutenant Tillman!” she cried, and she heard running footsteps. “Lieutenant Tillman, it’s all right, it’s Nurse French! You know me!”

“I know damn well what you are, and you’re no nurse,” he snarled near her ear.

Rummond’s heart pounded so hard against his ribs that his breastbone ached. He’d been watching Belle; it was difficult to take his eyes off of her. Tillman moved so fast, though, he hadn’t even time to get a word out before she’d been grabbed up in a hostage hold.

He knew he couldn’t have gotten across the aisle quickly enough, but as soon as Tillman turned and Rummond was out of the Lieutenant’s line of sight, he slipped from the far side of his bunk and crossed to the other side of the ward, where he could move more quickly without being seen.

“Crazy bugger thinks she’s a German,” Lieutenant Booth snorted as his bunkmate snuck away.

Belle vaguely knew as more and more people gathered. Other nurses and orderlies dared get closest, their voices muddled as they all tried to talk to Tillman, each thinking they could talk sense into him. Her ears hummed and she felt lightheaded and too hot, and she knew it was adrenaline, but that didn’t help to clear her whirling thoughts. She had been in dangerous situations since becoming a nurse, but this was the first to threaten her so directly, and terror grew in the pit of her stomach.

“Lieutenant Michael Tillman! Let her go!” Dr. Whale barked above the other voices, and Belle zeroed in on him. Dr. Hopper stood next to him, face blanched, and Ruby stood on the other side. Graham stood beside Dr. Hopper, his hands raised, and Belle couldn’t hear what he said over everyone else, but he looked frightened. Well, at least she wasn’t overreacting to her situation, then.

Some of the patients were hovering at mid-range, most keeping a few feet back from the staff, and she saw worry in their faces, as well. Dr. Glass watched from the ward doors with an almost neutral expression. She didn’t see Captain Gold, though. She should have been able to see him on his bed when she shifted her eyes that way, but he was gone. If she could only see him, see the look on his face, she thought she might be better able to gauge just what kind of trouble she was in. She felt as if his face would give her the truth.

Jefferson whispered, “What are you doing?” as Rummond passed. Rummond swatted a hand in his direction, giving him a look sharp enough to quiet him immediately in return for the question.

He crept between the beds at the far end of the room and made himself as small and low as he could as he moved back up the other aisle. Less than half the length of the room away. He slowed himself to silence the pat of his bare footsteps.

“No one would believe me! And look where we are now!” Tillman ranted, shaking her.

“Lieutenant,” Belle said, praying she could calm him long enough for his delusion to break, or for something to stop him. “I know it feels real, but I promise you-”

“Shut up!” he snapped, shaking her again.

Belle clenched her eyes shut, feeling the piece of ironstone move on her skin. When she opened them again, Tillman had turned enough that she caught movement in the reflection of the window beside his bed. She saw just enough to tell her who it was. Captain Gold.

She could have sobbed, though whether in relief that someone was making an effort to do something or in fear for him, she couldn’t be sure. Tillman was easily fifty pounds heavier than Captain Gold, and if he turned the shard on the other man…

“It’s all right,” she continued, hoping to distract Lieutenant Tillman and keep him from noticing the reflection. It was right in front of him - he only needed to look that way to see. “If you’ll just let me go, we can finish cleaning up the bowl, and perhaps you can talk with Dr. Hopper? I’m sure he-”

“Shut your mouth!” he yelled right behind her ear, digging the shard harder against her neck, and she choked back a cry when she felt the sharp point puncture her skin.

Tillman stood against the side of his bunk, and Rummond could see there was no way to get between. He would have to go over top, and that would mean a very narrow moment during which he could do anything before Tillman knew he was there.

His lungs burned when he held his breath to cut off that sound, as well, and he stepped between Tillman’s bed and the one to the left of it. With his knees at the edge of the mattress, he leaned, putting all of his weight on his good foot, and lunged. He had his hands on Tillman before the springs squeaked, wrenching the hand holding the piece of broken ironstone to force it as far away from Nurse French’s skin as he could.

Belle felt herself yanked backward, and for a second she feared Tillman had done it, slit her throat. But then she heard, “Drop it, boy. Drop the weapon,” in a low voice, somehow dispassionate and chilling at once, almost as near her ear as it was to Tillman’s, and it made her skin crawl. It took a very long beat of her heart to recognize that Captain Gold had gotten to them.

Rummond snaked his hand in behind Tillman’s arm across Nurse French’s chest, wrapping his hand around the Lieutenant’s wrist from the inside with a vice grip. With a sudden push stronger than the pulling hold Tillman had on her, Rummond gave her room to get away, and she took it.

When the grip on her loosened, Belle dropped away, hitting her knees hard enough to bruise, her hands flying to her neck. Graham rushed in to get her, pulling her up and away, and she was surrounded by he, Ruby, and Dr. Hopper as they saw blood and tried to check her. She turned among their hands, trying to see what happened between Captain Gold and Lieutenant Tillman.

Tillman twisted his hand, trying to cut his attacker’s arm, but found himself held at the wrong angle to accomplish it. “I won’t be held prisoner again!” he shouted, fighting. “I’ll kill myself first!”

“Graham, help him!” Belle pled, pushing his hand away from her neck and urging him toward the patients who were still the center of spectation.

The adrenaline in Rummond’s system was waning, and he wasn’t strong enough to hold onto Tillman without its help. He felt his muscles beginning to tremble. To his relief, Humbert knelt one knee on the mattress and Gardner overshadowed them on the window side, each taking one of the Lieutenant’s arms, and he could let go. He scrambled backward off the bunk, just keeping his footing as he put the piece of furniture between himself and Tillman.

-Better to Face the Bullets by @ishtarelisheba

how did it ever get into their heads that they’re cowards

[ectolemonades]

What if I just came out of left field and updated felt it in my youth, feel it when i'm old or wrote a sequel to prom queen

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[sylvies-kablooie]

i do unironically think the best artists of our generation are posting to get 20 notes and 3 reblogs btw. that fanfic with like 45 kudos is some of the best stuff ever written. those OCs you carry around have some of the richest backstories and worldbuilding someone has ever seen. please do not think that reaching only a few people when you post means your art isn't worth celebrating.

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

god i love my friends. shout out to people who love their friends. this is a post for friend lovers

[catskullery]

[qiinamii]

we'll do fine.

[uncanny-tranny]

I think so many people are so deeply alienated from themselves that they have no clue how to exercise their free will and autonomy. For some, this alienation runs so deep that they are afraid of their own autonomy and humanity. It is completely understandable why one would have those feelings, but it can be worrisome.

I want to help others who feel this way, so here are small things I have done to exercise my free will:

Add "guilty pleasure" songs to playlists and actually listen to them (I have a ton of late 1990s-early 2000s music I listen to now proudly that I never listened to in the past out of shame)

Getting the décor item, bath set, bed spread, ect. in the patterns you like, even if it's "childish" (I got a dinosaur-themed wastebasket from the kids' décor section and I adore it)

Taking a new route to get to a place you go to often

Eat dessert first

Celebrate well, and often

Collect things that are "odd" or don't seem like an "acceptable" thing to collect (somebody on my "for you" page collects dandelion crayola crayons and it was so cool!!!!!!)

Incorporate one new piece in an outfit you wear frequently (e.g., a new chain, a necklace, ribbons, bracelets, ect.). Challenge yourself to add onto the outfits if you feel up for it.

Sing along to songs without worrying that you sound "good" or your intonation is completely accurate

Read a book from a genre you weren't allowed to read as a kid (comics, thrillers, mysteries, anything!)

Walk without having a specific destination or goal

Pick up a new craft without expecting yourself to master it or to ever be "good" enough. Get your hands messy.

I don't want to shame anybody for not feeling as though they have free will or that they are exempt from exercising it. However, I wanted to give ideas so that you might read this list and find your own ways to express your intrinsic autonomy and will. You deserve to be a person, to feel alive, not just living. That is what our lives are for.

[allthatdivides2]

my dealer: got some straight gas 🔥😛 this strain is called “public transit” 😳💊 you’ll be going wherever you want for an affordable price 💯👨‍💻

me: yeah whatever i dont feel shit

5 min later: dude i swear the bus should have been here by now

random guy at the bus stop with me: the transit app is lying to us

[kushexi]

A mermaid au that has been on my mind for some time now 🥺✨