@[email protected] heart is a muscle the size of your fist.————Zackariah/Zack. 26. Queer. Nb. Disabled. ☭ Ⓐ adhd and autistic (bastard syndrome)D1sability (disability justice) especiallyinterestedinearth (cool stuff about living on earth), sciunce (well.. science) itspolitical (discourse) are some other tumblrs of mine you could check out.
saw a tiktok of a mother taking her very tiny daughter to an art museum and she’s just walking around going “whoooa” “woooaah” to everything but then they got to a marble statue of a nude woman lying on her back and the girl points and goes “mommy🫵” and i just immediately welled up with tears and all the comments are just laughing about it and of course it’s funny but how are you not insanely moved by the way art connects everyone on earth from a centuries-old sculptor to a toddler in 2023
J*hn Gr**n still being a meme on this site has made me feel kinda sad when no one seems to know or talk about his current campaign to raise awareness of TB and to force Johnson & Johnson to relinquish its patents on anti-TB antibiotics. Particularly drugs used to treat extremely drug resistant (XDR) TB and make them available to people living in globally impoverished regions as TB is a curable disease that killed 1.3 million people in 2022
If we're gonna still meme him we should at least use it to push for TB treatment equity
not all kinks are sublimated anxieties, but the readiness with which we turn our sublimated anxieties into sexual fantasies is one of the most endearing things about our species to me. like our brains are like, “hmm. don’t like this. i should jerk off about it.”
"Guy" and "man" have different connotations with adjectival nouns. Like "tree guy" = arborist but "tree man" = he lives in a tree, or maybe he is a tree.
Never understood the collective vehement resentment of small talk lol i hate the painful grind of small talk as much as the next person but i think id rather shrivel up and die than be denied nuggets of joy found in standing in an elevator and having a middle aged woman compliment my nails or bonding fleetingly with a cafegoer over the city's temperamental weather it's so integral to nurturing & cultivating the soul i think
Blackout poetry exists on a dual axis from "banal" to "insightful" on the input side and "kind of deep" to "incredibly fucking dumb" on the output side, and while taking something banal and producing something kind of deep is well and fine, for my money taking something insightful and rendering it incredibly fucking dumb is where the real art is.