i was staring at my stack of books in my room and i just realized wow it’s so cool, there are so many literal whole worlds there all stacked up in their individual little societies and aesthetics and plot events and i get to experience all of them
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real question to all of my fellow book reading people. how do you guys mark your place? do you use a bookmark, dog ear, memorize the page #, or a secret other thing???? 📚
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it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.
yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.
it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.
how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.
chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?
how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.
"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.
i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.
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I have taken to reading Agatha Christie in my free time and I am BEGGING tumblr to get on this train. I need there to be a Poirot renaissance NOW. His tboy swagger is off the fucking wazoo. His combined autism/ocd smoke is too real they're gonna kill him
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Spoilers for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
I fucking LOVE how in the epilogue the book starts to refer to Coriolanus as just "Snow".
No more "Coriolanus". Just "Snow".
He's not the sweet yet smart and manipulative boy that deeply cares about his cousin and grandma or the boy who gives sweets to a little girl and carry her around when she hurts her foot. He's not the boy who fell in love with a girl and did everything to protect her. He's not the boy that helped his classmates.
He's not the boy that uses his mother memory and her old powder case as a way to calm down and feel safe.
He's just Snow, cold and manipulative, with now only his father compass and rat poison
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Crowley stops arguing with Aziraphale about driving the car when Aziraphale tells Crowley he’ll be taking care of the bookshop. He realizes it’s a big step for them.
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They said that, sometimes, we make sacrifices so that the ones we love don’t have to. It’s part of protecting them—part of protecting you. Taking on hard choices and going to dark places is an act of love.
Dear Callum / Finnegrin's Wake
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do you even care about lycion. and his transgender otherkin swag
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Agents of Shield is one of my favorite shows of all time and the only reason it exists is because a minor character was so popular that Marvel Studios decided to bring him back from the dead in order to continue cashing in on him. I don't love AOS because it is part of the MCU, in fact the less reliant on the movies the better the show got, I love the show because the people who made the show loved it.
A work of art exists because of the oft-criticized foibles of franchising. The problem with franchises is the same problem that has always existed, the question, "Is this a labor of love?" is not being asked enough.
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