me holding a gun to a mushroom: tell me the name of god you fungal piece of shit
mushroom: can you feel your heart burning? can you feel the struggle within? the fear within me is beyond anything your soul can make. you cannot kill me in a way that matters
me cocking the gun, tears streaming down my face: I鈥橫 NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU
i love it when "liminal space" pictures are described as "strangely familiar" because they do not ever invoke nostalgia in me. on account of me not being american. this is what eastern european liminal spaces look like
I was just grocery shopping and for a while I was in line behind the peak possible combination of parent and child, here is my 1 minute recreation from memory