#the end society

[the-end-society]

The end society

I'm lola💮

Feel free to browse the aisles. We have reblogs of art, quotes, memes, social commentaries, poems and the odd cute animal video (who doesn't like seeing a bunny eating a strawberry)

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°October prompt list

Writing prompts, remember to @the-end-society us on posts written that are inspired by our prompts for a reblog. Include prompt used.

[sunnyanddumb98]

Sitting, playing cards, Talking with my nephew, Sipping iced tea, Watching butterflies, Fighting with someone, Dreaming life away, Of all that I could do, The time that I spend Between birth and death. So much more than verbs, Antonyms, acronyms of What you never tell, Never show, never do. Most time is up there Where nothing happens But existence itself. The time spent Wishing for a way out, Pitch-black garage, Still stagnant clocks, Faraway, muted, dusted, Blurry friends and family, Drowning in a bathtub Keeping the charade. holding my breath Keeping time away from walking from them or finding a way to my end Could never take back. Slowly, I drink my tea, Slowly, I start to see Everything that wastes time, Screaming life goes by, Daggers in my back Of words I never trust. Minutes are mine, And I use them freely, I know their worth In those I play cards with And laugh at jokes, Bring tiny tasks to Completion, fold the Clothes, and write Some more, about Wonders of never having been Really gone, just lost In the time I spend Between birth and death

February Prompt 12. to live @the-end-society

[deadpoets]

DEAD POETS SOCIETY (1989) dir. Peter Weir

[the-end-society]

me just about every time I've overdone it socialising.

The store lights are too bright. Headache inducing, White, artificial, buzzing above me showcasing all my flaws. I feel on display. I'm in the way.

The people are too many. Bodies pressing in from all sides, an arm brushing against a shoulder, eye contact that lasts a minute but feels like forever. Is there a trap door. Pull the lever.

Clothes are too big, then too tight and nothing ever looks right. Wanting to shed the extra layer, the fabric that constricts, restricts and predicts how I'll feel forever.

The feeling of the choas is too much, everyone is in such a rush, they push and I turn to mush. All the lights, sounds and conversation choke me, it forces its way into my lungs and grips the bronchi tight. It's a daily fight.

February Prompt 7. Chocking on the feeling @the-end-society

[pandadrake]

Okay future boy. They should hang out.

(Jefferson completely absorbing everything his Spider-man says is peak. Miles, all your dad wants is to listen to you. Water you doin'?)

[corpsentry]

a glass sun 1/2

[coveredinsun]

i’ve seen gimleaf fics where they each try to find out how to court by the other’s traditions. and i love those, so i think they ought to be taken a step further. and i think the way to do that would be, naturally, to make bagginshield real. allow me to explain why. ahem. after the ring is destroyed, girlfailure legolas spends two weeks poring over The Ancient Texts and stressing because his one (1) friend who WOULD help him (that’s aragorn) knows jack shit about dwarves beyond the surface (no pun intended) (well gandalf knows things but gandalf is a bitch) (he would just smile at legolas knowingly and wish him good luck instead of giving him answers).

so alas, girlfailure “shit tier ass elf” legolas is left to like, idk, sulk or something in the garden he starts at the Bestie Residence in minas tirith. and after like 2 days sam’s had enough he’s like “dude your vibes are upsetting the plants.” and legolas is like “my bad bro. it just seems i know nothing about dwarves which i probably should’ve thought about before, by elf standards, getting hitched in vegas.” and sam is like “oh dwarves? just ask mister frodo ^_^ he knows tons about dwarves!” and legolas is like “what the shit? him in particular? why does he anything about dwarves?” and sam leans in reaaaalllllll close and whispers behind his hand, “well you see mister elf, mister legolas, sir, there’s always been a very healthy amount of rumors that go around in the shire about mister frodo’s uncle, mister bilbo, and the letters he used to exchange with a certain king under the mountain.” and legolas, who was THERE, is like

[hypothetical-library]

imagine being the one to open the door and seeing the stoats. imagine. how would you tell anyone that.

[onawhimsicot]

i know not many people would want to read a 10,000 word article about the minecraft end poem and how the author, Julian Gough, was never fairly compensated for his work and has made it public domain.

But it's a very well-written and heartfelt read, and he makes it very clear that none of this is a cash-grab and despite the fact that he is essentially a starving artist in this capitalist society, he only mentions his financial struggles despite Minecraft's huge huge success at the bottom of this article and not in the tweets so as to not dilute his message.

Anyway, I just think it'd be cool if those who are able to could support him in some way whether it be subscribing to his substack or donating to his paypal (that's linked in the article, you can ctrl + F to find it easier), that's all.

[the-end-society]

October prompts

@ us at @the-end-society and include which prompt you chose for a reblog. Write like its the end

Lazy evenings

Despair

Milk and poppies

Angels and demons

Drowning

Lest we forget

Breath of life

Wounded pride

Cornfields

Rainbow

Candle wax

Shoreline

Regrets

Reborn

The last

Dust

Fragrant attitudes

Maybe not

Tangerines

Comments

Tree stumps

You promised

Left over

Dinner conversation

Crumpled paper

Sea salt

Golden leaf 🍂

Patchwork

Sweet and sour

Pumpkins

Hollow

@ us at @the-end-society and include which prompt you chose for a reblog. Write like its the end.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

while teen while goblin while aroace while injured while doing your best

[sunnyanddumb98]

If I were about to die,

I would not struggle with it.

I would not make a big deal,

been keeping up with big deals,

enough for one life.

I would make the objective of my day

to remember what life looks like,

take everything in my daily life

just one more time.

I don't think I would take a big trip or skydive,

I don't think I would bother myself

recording mi though or face for posterity,

no list of lessons, no advice.

I don't think I would spend it with my loved ones,

no lovers, no family, no friends,

too many tears, I have never liked

to console anyone.

I think I could not even change at all,

even go to work,

not tell a soul,

but I would take my time.

For the first time, I would watch

the tea bag infuse over three minutes

and find it fun, entertaining even.

I would take it away and properly squeeze it

before disposing of it,

I would not leave it in the corner of the sink

as I always do in a rush.

I could open the bin and leave it gently there.

In my daily routine, I would question the names

of every cloud, every plant, and

stop in my tracks to look it up,

just to nod and say ahh,

repeated out loud, tasting the sound in my mouth

until full and satisfied.

I would not search for a quick fling,

I think I would bake

those recipes where you have to leaven for hours on end,

several times, those where you measure and sift.

I think it would make me a better person,

a better listener at the very least,

not because I particularly care

or fear the eternal pain,

but I had nothing better to do.

I don't think I would stay still,

even in pain, I wouldn't rest,

there are so many stains on the ceiling,

there's so much self-pity.

I think I would pet every dog I see

and ignore every cat without feeling guilty.

I would remember if not immediately,

I would ask, not a hesitation in my mind,

the name of everyone,

even at night, I would sleep right away,

if day, I would do it anyway,

in the supermarket, in the job, in the street,

in the car anyway anytime.

I would like to think

I would insult way too much,

but I find it doubtful I even care that much.

The most I think about my imminent demise,

recoiling, more activities come to mind,

long tedious and fun,

that I've never been able to do.

The more time it took,

the more overwhelming my death became,

a long list of tasks to be made in a limited time.

The farther away I am,

the less time I have to just wait.

Oh, this again I was not supposed to struggle

this much when I'm about to dead.

February Prompt 10. Why this agony @the-end-society

[kuj0goth]

An au where fiddleford “saves” ford before he can complete the portal and renders him a husk of the person he used to be

This hurts me more than it hurts you ❤️

[octaviasdread]

Thinking about Carpe Diem and the cinematography of falling leaves to falling snow.

Seasons as cyclical as generations. It's tapestries and banners. It’s photographs on the wall. A structure, a system; tradition in the bones of buildings and boys.

There's a choice to be made - Nolan's hollow, ceremonial Light of Knowledge, or Neil's scavenged, man-made God of the Cave?

They’re children living for the future through a lens of past. Fireside stories embraced by woodland caves. They chant, dance, and recite from a sacred book - the heirloom they claim from a father they chose.

The window is finally open, but time froze at Welton lake. Forever winter. Forever youth. A moment in time, a feeling, a community turned to dust.

It's all so fleeting. Carpe Diem. Teenage years, childhood, a lifetime in three months. It’s a tragedy of classical epics.

The tale is old, but this wound is fresh. Falling to your knees. Shouting at the sky, praying and wailing, and clutching at the earth.

But the snow never stops.

Spring is up to us.

[daily-bipper-brainrot]

[bree-paints]

My copium where they all survive and they are an iconic one eyed trio

Also some random sketches because 266-267 have been killing me emotionally thank you