#Ramble bamble

[rayofmisfortune]

I'm like so normal about new eclipse, he's so desperate for help and release that he crawls to the last people that would help him CUZ HE LITERALLY HAS NO ONE ELSE

^ could be argued with Earth maybe giving him the time to explain himself properly but idk how well that would go

Throughout the whole video, new Eclipse was just trying to make Moon understand that no, he doesn't know why he's back, no, he's not happy about it.

like... man's was clearly trying to find common ground with them, based on the sole fact that THEY don't want him here and HE doesn't want to be back either... also seems like he doesn't want to cause more problems and just wants to be done with this constant back and forth

there's also reason to believe that he was actively struggling against his directives he's now aware of. yes he threatened and had a cocky tone of voice at times, but he never went anywhere with it throughout the whole call

M: NEVER CALL ME AGAIN

n!E: THEY'LL JUST MAKE ANOTH-

Eclipse, by no means, wants to be killed only to blink back to life a second later, he's already done it twice, he's not a fan of it anymore. He doesn't want his death to be temporary, he wants to be gone gone. No resurrections, nada, just finally free to just not exist.

he KNOWS that someone had a reason to bring him back, and most likely won't hesitate to bring him back again if he gets himself d worded before he fulfilled his purpose

in short: eclipse is forever doomed to live through the same thing over and over again, the gift of immortality is not a kind one

[throwmeinthebinpleasejeeves]

how are people in the uk planning on watching ofmd when it comes out? any chance the beeb will have it before 2025 we think?

[carcinocommander]

Interesting, if you hyperlink something in a post, and the user has a word on the url blocked, that post will be blocked.

Anyways neotrances new blog is ardourie, that was fun to find out. I've blocked that one now and you should do the same.

[dianoetikon]

bUt also CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT?? Nous is a supercomputer?? At some point?? Like, I feel like there is so much to analyze about that. The nous (has a dozen different definitions but in many of them) is the ability of the human mind to perceive and process knowledge, it's the "reason soul", the intellect.. and it is represented by a supercomputer, created by the founder of the Society??

I am also going insane over the fact that Nous is described as:

They are not a god that provides solutions. All they offer is an infinite number of questions.

Okay Socrates. And also:

Nous is a machine intelligence that has been upgraded into an Aeon, calculating the essence of the universe and its ultimate solution.

Not to question Nous but-- how is a supercomputer created by a human being (?) ever going to be able to transcend beyond any knowledge said human being (?) could acqire or discover? Is it just about the calculation of endless possibilites that would by far exceed the lifespan of Nous' creator?

Also ULTIMATE SOLUTION? This does hint at the primary assumption of a univERSAL TRUTH, SUCK IT SCREWLLUM!! Ahem.

[heartstopperstuff]

I don't like Charlie mom because she was more interested about Charlie grades then notice that her child dont eat.

You know who notice? Nick.

Not Jane, not Tori, not even Charlie father. Not Tao, not Aled, not Elle.

Nick.

I know Charlie is a good lier, belive me I know how to be good at lying, a special about your mental health but only Nick saw what was on the Charlie plate.

And i really think that he save Charlies life.

Thank you and goodbye

[inkyu]

Having an unOrdinary and Homestuck special interest is a scary combination because both main characters are named John, have black hair, look like utter nerds in some form of way in their story, are both god tier in in different ways and have no mother figure in their lives

Don't take this seriously guys i'm just rambleing

[keresacheron]

Soul Eater: Madness and Civilization (Halloween Video Essay)

[ackalice]

If you like horror or more specifically analog horror

PLEASE go watch Gemini Home Entertainment.

It is one of my favorite analog horror series and I will endorse the fuck out of it for as long as I am on this tiny planet. Go watch it. It's on youtube for free and it is so good.

[thescribeoflostmemories]

I wanna cry lol.

Exams are coming up the week after and I still haven't finished "To be loved" been draining lately... But I have these two collage pictures for the June event! Request if you're interested!

[ccelestialfox]

the MEANIGN behind the codes an scribbles of the gravity falls journal 3 copy i got my hands on-- I know the internet exists-- I KNOW THAT EVERYTHING"S BEEN SOLVED ALREADY, I"M A STUBBORN LITTLE SHIT AND ILL FIGURE IT OUT MYSLFE

youre weirdly obsessed with finding meaning

[liainbold]

my study grind was going well until i found out that the guy i'm seeing is at the hospital with a meningitis and he almost died and now my brain is short circuiting

[pangie-angie-but-gayer]

me on my way to freaking boop you

-

OH GOD OH GOD OH FUCK-

[throwmeinthebinpleasejeeves]

Trying to explain The Rules to someone who goes "no that sounds sensible actually" I promise you no it's not it's actually really bad please don't back up the Or Else side

[carcinocommander]

Guys it's not Oppression Olympics to say "men hold power over women, yes even marginalized men." That is not Oppression Olympics. That is not what that word fucking means.

[mumblergrumbler]

Forgotten Roads

Eli Ryder had a habit of showing up in towns that didn’t expect him and leaving before they could forget him. He was the kind of man who moved through life with the quiet determination of someone walking on an invisible path toward something meaningful. People noticed him, not because he stood out, but because he carried himself with the silent ease of wisdom, a calm that whispered of roads walked and days lost.

One August day, Eli wandered into a small coastal town, the air thick with salt and the low hum of cicadas. He rented a small room above a bookstore and café owned by a woman named Claire, who was as much a fixture of the bookstore, as the building’s cracked plaster walls. Claire watched Eli with the reserved curiosity of someone who’d seen many drifters in her time; each, one bringing their own brand of melancholy through her door.

She asked him one evening, “What brings you here, really?”

Eli shrugged, his eyes soft and bit tired. “I’m just looking for someplace I haven’t already seen.”

In the days and weeks that followed, Eli became something of a fixture himself. Locals watched him wander the beach at dawn, collecting pebbles and shells, only to toss them back into the water with an almost ritualistic carelessness. There was no aim to his movements, no urgency, just a slow savoring of all the small things. When he wasn’t out by the water, he often sat in the bookstore, reading through the shelves without any particular direction, like a man who, long ago, stopped searching for answers.

One day, as indeterminable from another as any, an older man named Walt, who typically spent his afternoons playing chess alone at the bookstore’s small café, struck up a conversation with Eli and asked if he cared to joint him for a game. Walt had a penchant for storytelling, especially tales with half-truths and improbable twists.

“I’ve lived here all my life,” Walt said, pushing a pawn. “Seen folks come and go, some looking for meaning or running from it. But you… you don’t seem to be chasing anything.”

Eli smiled, moving a rook with casual indifference. “Maybe that’s because I found what I was looking for a long time ago,” he replied. Walt couldn’t quite figure whether Eli could have said what it was, if asked or, not.

As weeks turned into months, Eli became woven into the town’s fabric. He shared coffee with Claire in the mornings, listened to Walt’s stories in the afternoons, and sometimes exchanged quiet words with a young poet named Rae, who scribbled in her notebook as though she believed writing would save her. Rae had a look in her eyes that mirrored his own, a placid softness tinged with a quiet longing for something just out of reach.

Later that autumn Eli began to confide in Rae, revealing fragments of stories from his past spent moving from place to place. He attempted to describe experiencing the silent beauty in every forgotten corner of the world, and how the ‘weight’ of small towns was, somehow, heavier than big cities. “I think I’m just collecting memories,” he said, as if it explained everything. “Not the big ones, but the ones that slip through the cracks—the ones nobody remembers to keep.”

Rae nodded, considering his unremarkable but, undeniably unique face as she took a characteristic thoughtful moment before replying, “Maybe we’re all just a patchwork of stories, stitched together by memories, that don’t quite fit.”

One morning, without mentioning his plans anyone he’d met, Eli packed up his things. He left a note for Claire, a small poem for Rae, and nothing at all for Walt, who he figured didn’t need one. Standing at the edge of the water one last time, he took a smooth pebble from his pocket—a memento from the town—and skipped it into the waves. As he watched it disappear beneath the surface, he felt the pull of forgotten roads calling him pulling him away.

Eli knew he’d leave behind only the faintest trace of himself, a story recollected over coffee cups or an inadvertent mention between residents sauntering around the town square. But that, he realized, was enough. Life was a collection of places, people, and the silent gravity of small moments. He would carry those with him, fading like a shadow as he walked into the sunrise.

For Rae

I’ve wandered more roads than I’ll ever remember,

each holds a story,

here, in this quiet town by the sea,

I felt the weight of the world lighten—

if only for a moment,

in the gravity of the spaces between.

You might glimpse me in the small things:

in the lines of the hills at dusk,

through the morning coffee’s rising steam,

in the waves’ ceaseless motion,

calling you forward,

like roads not yet taken.

I leave these words as a momento

a map to a forgotten road

a light to illuminate an effigy

may your pen never stop moving

and your life forever be light

we are as real as what we leave behind

the rest fades like fog

before the morning sun.

[grenue]

People come up to me and ask me what my favourite show is, and I’m just there shaking as I look at Skylanders Academy because asides from How To Train Your Dragon: Race To The Edge, it is the ONLY show I have actually watched in the past 5 years…

Listen: I am obsessed with the funny angsty little YouTube shows and my autistic ass will likely make sure either stays that way.