Some people, they can’t just move on, you know, mourn and cry and be done with it. Or at least seem to be. But for me… I don’t know. I didn’t want to fix it, to forget. It wasn’t something that was broken. It’s just…something that happened. And like that hole, I’m just finding ways, every day, of working around it. Respecting and remembering and getting on at the same time.
There comes a time when the world gets quiet and the only thing left is your own heart. So you’d better learn the sound of it. Otherwise you’ll never understand what it’s saying.
if you ever feel bad about yourself, just remember this one time in my english class, we were writing horror stories and one of the girls wrote “it was friday the 13th, the night before halloween” for her opening sentence
if you want to understand the psyche of our generation take a good look at the stories we tell ourselves about the future
because it isn’t flying cars or robot dogs, it’s faceless government surveillance and worldwide pandemics and militarized police brutality and the last dregs of humanity struggling to survive
our generation isn’t self-centered, or lazy, or whatever else they wanna say about us. we are young, and we are here, and we are deeply, deeply afraid.
the world is NOT a beautiful place
there is a fish that swims up urethras, anglerfish males dissolve their own face and turn into a gonad in order to reproduce, and there is a bug that drills his dick into the female because they don’t have vaginas
the world is a horrifying place
if you put an e on the end of clitoris it’s like an obscure yet pretty name
concept art - the prince of egypt, 1998, dreamworks animation