Matporr – porr om mat
When you die, the room you’re in necessarily becomes a library. There are more shelves than you remember, and packed two layers thick on these shelves are all the books you promised to read but never got around to, each one you bought but forgot. There is wall where there used to be doors. Curtains fall over the windows. You sit down to read the books, one by one, until your thumbprint is on every page and you have lived all the lives you wanted. There will be a door where there were walls, and you are allowed to leave.
Tsundoku - Johannes Punkt (via magicae)
animalstalkinginallcaps:

WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M A “ONE-UPPER”?
I MEAN THAT YOU EXAGGERATE OR OUTRIGHT LIE, NOT ONLY TO MAKE YOURSELF SEEM FAR MORE INTERESTING THAN YOU ACTUALLY ARE, BUT ALSO OUT OF A MISGUIDED SPIRIT OF COMPETITIVENESS AND/OR ENVY. THAT YOU WILL NOT ALLOW YOURSELF TO JUST ENJOY SOMEONE ELSE’S EXPERIENCES AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS BECAUSE IT ERRONEOUSLY MAKES YOU FEEL INFERIOR, SO YOU FABRICATE WIDLY IMPROBABLE TALES TO SUIT YOUR NEED FOR SITUATIONAL DOMINANCE. THAT IS WHAT I MEAN BY THAT.
I DON’T DO THAT.
I’D ARGUE, BUT I HAVE A DATE AT 5:30 AND I NEED TO GET READY.
WELL THAT’S FINE WITH ME, BECAUSE I HAVE TWO DATES AT 5:30.

animalstalkinginallcaps:

WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M A “ONE-UPPER”?

I MEAN THAT YOU EXAGGERATE OR OUTRIGHT LIE, NOT ONLY TO MAKE YOURSELF SEEM FAR MORE INTERESTING THAN YOU ACTUALLY ARE, BUT ALSO OUT OF A MISGUIDED SPIRIT OF COMPETITIVENESS AND/OR ENVY. THAT YOU WILL NOT ALLOW YOURSELF TO JUST ENJOY SOMEONE ELSE’S EXPERIENCES AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS BECAUSE IT ERRONEOUSLY MAKES YOU FEEL INFERIOR, SO YOU FABRICATE WIDLY IMPROBABLE TALES TO SUIT YOUR NEED FOR SITUATIONAL DOMINANCE. THAT IS WHAT I MEAN BY THAT.

I DON’T DO THAT.

I’D ARGUE, BUT I HAVE A DATE AT 5:30 AND I NEED TO GET READY.

WELL THAT’S FINE WITH ME, BECAUSE I HAVE TWO DATES AT 5:30.

madeleineishere:

😴Post-it-Love Note Sleep Talk Edition😴

madeleineishere:

😴Post-it-Love Note Sleep Talk Edition😴

bigyiff94:

Horror movie idea: a succubus who picks up guys at bookstores by playing manic pixie dream girl. They go on a date and everything’s perfect. The entire movie is an indie rom com until they sleep together for the first time and she rips out his heart and eats it. The movie ends with her “accidentally bumping into” another guy at a bookstore. The cycle begins again

how to become invisible again

thebookofnights:

Here. Hold your breath
             until your eardrums shudder with
             your heartbeat.

Press your wrists down
             flat against the table,
             hide those tangled capillaries
             and bite your tongue instead.

Say nothing. Say nothing.
Open your mouth, quick, let out the nothing
in case it’s as hungry as you are.
 

There is no such thing
             as an incantation.

exfatalist:

trekual-innuendos:

Lets have a dystopian future movie where none of the actors are white

Not a single one

No reason

No explanation

There’s just no white people and not a single character questions it

Watch how quickly people notice and get pissed off

but wouldn’t it be better to put one white extra in the far background of a huge crowd shot for a few frames, so we could point to them every time someone gets pissed off?

canadianslut:

*at a presidential debate*

"And why should you be the leader of this country?"image

leaveyouapen:

every boy I meet thinks he’s Charles Bukowski
every boy I meet thinks he’s Charles Bukowskisauntering with a finely tuned drunken shuffle (though it may be a gait)meeting my eyes through a fog            of nicotine and dimly lit streets            full of stories about hookers they knew in 1965
stopyou were born in 92and your false nostalgia is nauseatingthe booze stains on your off-white button down aren’t randomthey’re self-induced and purposefulwhich defeats the purpose of booze stains            becausebooze stains (red wine or dark beer) don’t have a purposethey’re more like birthmarksyour mouth is perverted and lazy in the darklicking me while mumbling “your cunt is amazing”           and                        “humanity, you never had it to begin with”you’re no great American antiheroand negative musings of the human condition            won’t make me cumyou’ve grown swollen with borrowed wisdom and fake nihilismif you really thought that life had no meaning            you wouldn’t have let me see you cry            when I took your virginity on the third floorthat night you screamed out for the son of god (twice)            but all you got was me
if you had it your wayyou’d ask me to call you “Charlie” or “Hank” when we fuckedbut your confidence is buried deep in your skinny gut            or probably in that dumb ponytaillet your hair downyour bangs aren’t that weirdyou’ve left me alone beforewith your lingering cigarette slut smell            and you didn’t come backI watched you walking from a window                    Smoke stack and wine rack are words            you’d like me to use to describe you
but generic fits you just fineif you read this I know you’ll objectin your world you’re the center object of individualism            so stark and rigid in your uniqueness             Ayn Rand would quiver with ecstasybut you boy of nihilism and booze stains on your button down            lazy tongued and perversely mouthed              you self-appointed antihero of empty bottles and dead eyed hookers
don’t you know that every boy I meet thinks he’s Charles Bukowski?
- ottalaus-og-hrein

leaveyouapen:

every boy I meet thinks he’s Charles Bukowski

every boy I meet thinks he’s Charles Bukowski
sauntering with a finely tuned drunken shuffle (though it may be a gait)
meeting my eyes through a fog
            of nicotine and dimly lit streets
            full of stories about hookers they knew in 1965

stop
you were born in 92
and your false nostalgia is nauseating
the booze stains on your off-white button down aren’t random
they’re self-induced and purposeful
which defeats the purpose of booze stains
            because
booze stains (red wine or dark beer) don’t have a purpose
they’re more like birthmarks
your mouth is perverted and lazy in the dark
licking me while mumbling “your cunt is amazing”

           and
                        “humanity, you never had it to begin with”
you’re no great American antihero
and negative musings of the human condition
            won’t make me cum
you’ve grown swollen with borrowed wisdom and fake nihilism
if you really thought that life had no meaning
            you wouldn’t have let me see you cry
            when I took your virginity on the third floor
that night you screamed out for the son of god (twice)
            but all you got was me

if you had it your way
you’d ask me to call you “Charlie” or “Hank” when we fucked
but your confidence is buried deep in your skinny gut
            or probably in that dumb ponytail
let your hair down
your bangs aren’t that weird
you’ve left me alone before
with your lingering cigarette slut smell

            and you didn’t come back
I watched you walking from a window        
            Smoke stack and wine rack are words
            you’d like me to use to describe you

but generic fits you just fine
if you read this I know you’ll object
in your world you’re the center object of individualism
            so stark and rigid in your uniqueness 
            Ayn Rand would quiver with ecstasy
but you boy of nihilism and booze stains on your button down
            lazy tongued and perversely mouthed  
            you self-appointed antihero of empty bottles and dead eyed hookers

don’t you know that every boy I meet thinks he’s Charles Bukowski?

- ottalaus-og-hrein

beatonna:

Here is a sketch comic I made called Ducks, in five parts.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Ducks is about part of my time working at a mining site in Fort McMurray, the events are from 2008.  It is a complicated place, it is not the same for all, and these are only my own experiences there.  It is a sketch because I want to test how I would tell these stories, and how I feel about sharing them.  A larger work gets talked about from time to time.  It is not a place I could describe in one or two stories.  Ducks is about a lot of things, and among these, it is about environmental destruction in an environment that includes humans.  Thank you for taking the time to read it.
-Kate

beatonna:

Here is a sketch comic I made called Ducks, in five parts.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Ducks is about part of my time working at a mining site in Fort McMurray, the events are from 2008.  It is a complicated place, it is not the same for all, and these are only my own experiences there.  It is a sketch because I want to test how I would tell these stories, and how I feel about sharing them.  A larger work gets talked about from time to time.  It is not a place I could describe in one or two stories.  Ducks is about a lot of things, and among these, it is about environmental destruction in an environment that includes humans.  Thank you for taking the time to read it.

-Kate