🍄 Safe space for respectful ppl, bigots will be blocked. 🍄
🌸 I ♡ cottages, animals, nature. I don't ♡ old values or industrial farms.
🌷 Pansexual. She/they, AFAB. I was a fairy in my last life.
🌼 Ex-SDA, critical of fear-based religion. I respect your beliefs, but won't hold back if you debate.
🪻 Original photos. No reposts (unless in moodboards, then tag me) ♡
🍄 Below are my frequently used tags, including warnings: 🍄
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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.
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We're not appreciating the Weird Barbie enough. It's said in the movie that she helps everyone who need help while they always see her as someone who's not as good as them. She was friends with all dismissed Barbies and Kens, was there to offer support and safe shelter for everyone who needed it in Kendom, without her nothing in the movie would've been alright. When Stereotypical Barbie calls her "ugly and unwanted" she still helps her.
She was representing a woman in women's world who was pushed aside by other women because she didn't fit in but still had more wisdom and kindness than everyone who thought they're better than her.
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why is religious Christmas imagery all so joyful and pleasant? where is the inherent horror of the birth of Christ? A mother is handed her newborn child, wailing and innocent. Her hands come away sticky. Red. Simply by giving her son life she has already killed him. He is doomed from the beginning. Her love will not save him from suffering. Because the thing cradled in her arms is not a baby, it is a sacrifice: born amongst the other bleating animals whose blood will one day be spilled in the name of what demands it. the night is silent with anticipation. Mary, did you know? That your womb was also a grave?
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butter dishes get me so horny
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anthony j. crowley really is the character ever. he's the snake of eden. he's millions of years old. he can stop time. he likes to feed ducks. his vintage car is cursed to forever play queen. he invented the selfie. he drinks six shots of espresso straight. he lied about starting the spanish inquisition and they believed him. he lost the fucking antichrist. she's genderfluid.
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It always upsets me so much when I see interpretations/illustrations of the two headed calf poem that show a living calf being torn away from its mother and killed to sell to a museum and framing the poem as being "humanity kills beautiful things for being different".
Two headed cows almost never survive more than a few hours after their birth. The farmer finds the *body* the next day. The calf was destined to die, and that's a tragedy, but for the time it was alive, it had a beautiful and unique experience.
It's not a poem about the cruelty of man. It's a poem about the beauty of life in an indifferent universe. It's about purpose and beauty being able to exist even in an existence doomed to come to an end, as all our lives are. It's not a poem about how a calf dies, but how, even for only a brief moment, it was alive.
And, for that moment, because of that life, however fleeting, the sky had twice as many stars.
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