I told sunset about you.
I told sunset about you.
The way those deep dark eyes saw me;
or a reflection of your kindness through that smile;
about your sun-kissed skin that I fell in love too;
and my addiction when you said my name.
I told sunset about you;
about those scars that you have to hide;
about those people that you have to cheer;
about those feelings... that you cannot endure.
But sunset will keep it a secret.
as they were here for a glimpse of the moment;
as a sign of beauty,
between you and the eventide;
that made me fall in love with both of you once again.
–written by Z.
[P.S. This write was inspired by this photo of Lee Dokyeom of Seventeen hahaha]
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"Absolutely no one comes to save us but us."
Ismatu Gwendolyn, "you've been traumatized into hating reading (and it makes you easier to oppress)", from Threadings, on Substack [ID'd]
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A customer contacted our team with questions, and then finished their email with: "I am daunted by the complexities and unknowns." I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.
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— Ursula K. Le Guin, from “A Rant About ‘Technology’”
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Damian: Baba. I’ve acquired an enemy at the academy. He’s been ripping my drawings, teasing me about my lineage, and smearing your honor. I understand murder can’t happen. How shall I proceed?
Bruce: [Has a flashback of Thomas driving to his bully’s house, spiked brass knuckles on his hands, petting his head and smiling dangerously, ‘I’ll be right back, chum!’]
Bruce: …I’ll talk to his parents.
Damian: Todd?
Jason: Finally, an excuse to tackle a 10 year old.
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“In the war film, a soldier can hold his buddy—as long as his buddy is dying on the battlefield. In the western, Butch Cassidy can wash the Sundance Kid’s naked flesh—as long as it is wounded. In the boxing film, a trainer can rub the well-developed torso and sinewy back of his protege—as long as it is bruised. In the crime film, a mob lieutenant can embrace his boss like a lover—as long as he is riddled with bullets.
Violence makes the homo-eroticism of many “male” genres invisible; it is a structural mechanism of plausible deniability.”
–Tarantino’s Incarnational Theology: Reservoir Dogs, Crucifixions, and Spectacular Violence. Kent L. Brintnall.
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Sometimes, it isn’t the one who takes your breath away, it’s the one that reminds you to breathe.
k.b. // by jennifer johnson
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— Franz Kafka, from Letters to Milena (via lumamonchtuna)
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Y/N: Hi I'm your medic and I'll be drawing your blood today, as soon as I finish this capri sun
Y/N: *misses the hole four times then finally punches the straw through the side*
Ghost, sweating: PRICE
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Damian: [walks into Bruce's office with his hands behind his back]
Damian: Father, I would like to congratulate you. You are now a grandfather
Bruce: [seconds away from a heart attack] W- what?
Damian: [reveals the hamster he was holding behind his back] Meet Ferdinand
Bruce: [slumps against desk] Next time... please- please lead with that... I'm begging you
-
Jason: [hiding in the vents with a camera] He actually did it, the crazy little son of a bitch
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