SOMETHING CLAWS OUT FROM THE CENTER OF YOU, THE FOUNTAIN OF PHILOSOPHY NESTLED IN THE SUPERIOR VENA CAVA

Donation post             

I hate to make one of these posts again but they recently cut my hours to part time. They have let 10 people go so far and im scared they might let me go next.  With my work cutting my hours I won’t be able to afford my electric bill or rent for the month of December.  My electric bill is due on December 9th and my rent is due on December 26th.  If anyone can help by donating or sharing this post it would help a lot. I already can’t afford Christmas this year  and i just need this micrale of paying my bills that i can’t afford in the month of December .

Venmo: AshleyMariexoxo

Rent: 350

Electric bill: 192.65

"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." - Emily Bronte

my daydreams lie buried in autumn leaves

listen all i'm saying is if the villain au reader studied execution methods through history while they were still in their world the acolytes are fuuuuuuuuucked

very lovely thought <3333

there are so many brutal torture methods, much too graphic for me to want to write them out...

but one that's non-brutal that I never forgot was where they constantly drip a single drop of water on someone's forehead (like where the third eye is?)

just thinking about it makes me feel crazy, it'd drive someone (reader's acolytes) insane <3

Excuses For Why We Failed At Love by Warsan Shire

Box with my photographs and poetry.

“When Van Gogh was a young man in his early twenties, he was in London studying to be a clergyman. He had no thought of being an artist at all. he sat in his cheap little room writing a letter to his younger brother in Holland, whom he loved very much. He looked out his window at a watery twilight, a thin lamppost, a star, and he said in his letter something like this: “it is so beautiful I must show you how it looks.” And then on his cheap ruled note paper, he made the most beautiful, tender, little drawing of it. When I read this letter of Van Gogh’s it comforted me very much and seemed to throw a clear light on the whole road of Art. Before, I thought that to produce a work of painting or literature, you scowled and thought long and ponderously and weighed everything solemnly and learned everything that all artists had ever done aforetime, and what their influences and schools were, and you were extremely careful about *design* and *balance* and getting *interesting planes* into your painting, and avoided, with the most astringent severity, showing the faintest *academical* tendency, and were strictly modern. And so on and so on. But the moment I read Van Gogh’s letter I knew what art was, and the creative impulse. It is a feeling of love and enthusiasm for something, and in a direct, simple, passionate and true way, you try to show this beauty in things to others, by drawing it. And Van Gogh’s little drawing on the cheap note paper was a work of art because he loved the sky and the frail lamppost against it so seriously that he made the drawing with the most exquisite conscientiousness and care.”

— Brenda Ueland, from “If You Want to Write: A Book about Art, Independence and Spirit”

Could u please do a tutorial on torture 👀

Edith Wharton ― The Age of Innocence

One time I shared a post that contained (unbeknownst to me) incorrect information about how big anglerfish are and people sent me anon hate about it for years and accused me of being the center of a conspiracy to spread fish-based misinformation, I would occasionally get messages in my inbox out of the blue like "You're a terrible person for telling lies about fish and I hope you die," and I think that that more than anything else is the real Tumblr Dot Com experience