You know how in action movies the main guy is always like “Yeah I’ve got a contact here in Uzbekistan that owes me a favor” for no discernible reason but it occurred to me that like that’s basically what internet friends are like if I was in that situation I’d be like “Yeah don’t worry leave it to me. I’ve got a mutual in the Netherlands whose selfie I reblogged one time.”
Tag: text
Lucifer: LISTEN DETECTIVE ITS NOT REAL AND WE ARE OVER DO U HEAR ME IM GON-
Lucifer: *sees Chloe crying and bleeding*
Lucifer: I will kill anyone who’s ever touched you looked at you or breathed in your presence and I will walk my ass into hell to make sure you live and I’m never letting you out of my damn sight and
Date a boy who worships you. Date a boy with talent, intellect, and snark. Date a boy with an angel’s voice. Date a boy who knows more languages than you. Date a boy who can sing. Date a boy who can serenade you with music and roses. Date a boy who kisses the hem of your dress. Date a boy who’s tall, dark, and mysterious. Date a boy who can teach you. Date a boy who would kill and kill for you again. Date the phantom of the opera.
25 Lives, by Tongari
The very first time I remember you, you are blonde and don’t love me back.
The next time you are brunette, and you do.
After a while I give up trying to guess if the colour of your hair means anything.
because even if you don’t exist, I am always in love with you.
I remember most fondly those lifetimes where we get to grow up together,
when you share your secrets and sorrows and hiding places with me.
I love how you play along with my bad ideas,
before you grow up and realize they are bad ideas.
(And in our times together I have many bad ideas.)
When we meet as adults you’re always much more discerning. I don’t blame you.
Yet, always, you forgive me.
As if you understand what’s going on, and you’re making up for
all the lifetimes in which one of us doesn’t exist,
and the ones where we just, barely, never meet.
I hate those. I prefer the ones in which you kill me.
But when all’s said and done, I’d surrender to you in other ways.
Even though each time, I know I’ll see you again, I always wonder
is this the last time?
Is that really you?
And what if you’re perfectly happy
without me?
Ah, but I don’t blame you; I’ll never burn as brilliantly as you. It’s only fair
that I should be the one
to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes
until I find the one where you’ll return to me.
‘are you decent?’ not morally, but im wearing pants, if thats what youre asking
Me watching my favorite character: OH MY GOD LOOK AT THEM! THEY ARE SO PERFECT, SO GOOD, A CINNAMON BUN TOO PURE FOR THIS WORLD!
Favorite Character: *kills 10 people*
Favorite Character: *robs a bank*
Favorite Character: *cheats the innocent*
Me: *looks around nervously and whispers* Too Pure
I am rarely bored alone; I am often bored in groups and crowds.
me: *displays affection by giving you links to posts i think are relevant to your interests*
It’s not ‘natural’ to speak well, eloquently, in an interesting articulate way. People living in groups, families, communes say little–have few verbal means. Eloquence–thinking in words–is a byproduct of solitude, deracination, a heightened painful individuality.
Mom: How is school going?
Me: Fine.
Patrick Warburton enters the room*
Patrick Warburton: In most situations the word ‘fine’ means ‘well’ or at least ‘good enough’. But as you, dear viewers, know school could not be further from ‘well’ or ‘good enough’. A selection of more appropriate words to use would be ‘dreadful’, ‘atrocious’, or ‘abominable’, a word which here means ‘dreadful or atrocious’.
persephone's corner 