k, could someone explain why my best jokes and comebacks come when i’m in a shitty mood? Like whenever i’m in a great mood or i’m actually having a good time, my jokes are always so dry and stupid, but whenever i’m mad or moody, my comebacks are GOLDEN
If you're wondering what song im hopping along to in my room then a high chance is that its this one
happy two whole years on testosterone !!
It's gone so fast and I'm so happy to be at a place where I'm seeing changes and I'm happy with how far I've come.
here are some fun pics from a project on normalising trans bodies.
📷: @queenofallrainbows on Instagram
✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ bodycheck ✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'15h of fasting rn'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*
😴: lmao what if macgyver is actually a time lord his swiss army knife is his biodata thing or whatever that keeps the time lord bit at bay so he appears totally human
😳: *he’s canonically traveled back in time dealt with various supernatural phenomena and mythical creatures too using only his wit and the laws of fucking physics*… WAIT
O veado dourado e o menino
1
Light streamed through the water as shadows danced across the surface coming from shore lined trees. Wind rippling the surface, as underneath, the sea ridden plants danced and swayed. The rustling sound of leaves as the very same trees carry the wind to some unseen location. Birds squawking and chirping the only sound opposing the quiet
The salty smell of the sea, freshly cut grass contrasting against the smell of an inviting BBQ, always seeming so near, it's somehow out of reach. Smooth, warm pebbles litter the clearing, somehow pleasant despite their rocky hard nature
Fish wandering, swimming endlessly in search of something, somewhere, air trapped in the water rising to the surface.
Blub...Blub..Blub
The pattering thump of footsteps come from somewhere between the trees as, not even a minute later, a boy, with long reddish brown hair, bangs lightly grazing his eye lashes, squinted grey eyes and sun kissed skin, appears in the clearing.
He was wearing a slightly too-big green bomber jacket, tight fitted black turtle neck, loose brown cargo pants and some black and white checkered loafers.
He was running. He was running from something or perhaps someone. He had a feeling he already knew.
He huffed, trying to gain his lost air back. He dared to look behind him. No-one in sight.
With no exact measurement of how long he had been running, he graced himself, allowing a short break before he realised that he had come far. So far that there was no more to go. He had hit the end.
'Great' he thought
'where to now?'
He stared off into the distance, for he did not know. The only thing he did know however, was that he could not return. Not now at least.
Thinking of how stupid he was, leaving without a plan nor supplies, not a single idea of how to make this work.
'perhaps I should return'
'no' he only denied the thought
'all that's waiting for me to return is humiliation and suffering'
Rustling sounded far behind him, heart racing, adrenaline pumping, spiking his every move, he looked back.
Expecting someone, perhaps he already knew of this someone, he just hoped, to whatever god was out there, it would not be them, there to ridicule him, make him turn back.
But instead of being met with a someone he was met with a something.
A pair of coal black eyes stared up at him, their fur as brown as chestnuts and, how on earth could anyone not notice this, golden antlers, that shined and shimmered through the light.
'almost as bright as the sun' the boy couldn't help but be amazed with wonder.
Standing still, not quite knowing what to do, the boy's thoughts were running in a circle.
'do I move?'
'or would that just scare the stag?'
Looking up he noticed that the stag was still there.
After a long winded internal battle, he had come to a conclusion.
He had decided to approach the stag.
Quietly, slowly, he held out his hand, trying to indicate he meant no harm.
Of course, that only goes so well when your approaching wild animals.
Snapping, echoing around the clearing, the only indication that could suggest the fact that, not only had he stepped on a twig, it had snapped.
Chestnut fur moved and ruffled as the majestic animal hurried to lift its head. Pitch black eyes finding the red heads own grey ones.
The stag had done what all wild animals do best, fled.
The boy gave chase after it, weaving in and out plant life a like. Careful as to not trip and end up going back early but, not too careful as to slow him down.
Alas, that didn't matter.
The stag had been considerly faster than him. He had no doubt about the speed it could run, he only had hope that he could keep up with it.
But that wasn't the case.
Slowing to a stop, heaving and panting, he desperately tried to figure out where the stag had gone of too, when he heard a voice.
A certain gruff voice
The voice of who he didn't want to hear and had prayed he wouldn't hear.
His father.
~~~~~~~~ End of part 1
"jerry check it out. sale on plywood down at bunnings.”
“oh fuck we can get some to make sick skate ramps”
Odio tener un vacío en el corazón, ¿cuando llegará la persona que lo llene?
-$xpertrvmp.$vd-
i've had a headache since yesterday :((
anyways some th*nspo ♡
smoking weed doesn't help with restraining from binging for shit but yk it helps me lose weight during fasts so :)
♡dm for removal if this is you; not me♡
Also. I made a reference to undercutting the Residents by 40 seconds.
I was referring to the Residents' Commercial Album. The Residents are not a "commercial" band. They don't get airplay, except for on those weird college radio stations at 3am. But they did get a lot of airplay on MTV in the 80s, because they had really good music videos, many of which came from the Commercial Album—pretty much a commentary on outdated expectations of track length that even then no longer mattered. Songs are three minutes long because once upon a time, that was the maximum length that could be recorded at a time. There's no reason for this to still be the case, outside of tradition. And yet, still in the 21st century, the Top 40 is stacked three minutes at a time.
So the Commercial Album was basically a fuck you to this outdated rule that governed air play. It was 40 tracks of very radio-friendly (for avant garde) music. Except every single song was one minute long; unplayable by radio standards. Nobody would touch it, because as soon as you get into it, the song ends.
The music videos from this album, however, were perfect filler for MTV's format at the time. Sixty-second clips to fill gaps in programming. MTV loved these guys, back when MTV still played music.
It feels like I am. Always.. floating through the emptiness of time and space. A useless waste..
