Everything here is not even half of what I see. I really need to reblog more. But. So. Lazy. Sad I know

putridpink:

I’m goal is to be fashionable and cute but also terrifying

(via graveyard-whimsy)

Notes
229
Posted
2 days ago
reading in head:i'm practically a master of linguistics my pronunciations are perfect beyond compare
reading aloud:*chokes on spit*
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389924
Posted
6 days ago

valkyriestrikeofthelashatterdome:

gotterdammerungs:

                             (x)

And then in the future, everything changes. He’s been through it all, of course-watched humanity rediscover the heavens above them, watched them begin to wonder what’s out there. He cheered with the rest of the world when they landed on the moon, cheered as if he’d found Isla de la Muerta all over again, because there was something new. New treasure, a new horizon. But then they stop going, stop exploring, and he goes back to riding tankers across the rising seas. So he’s surprised when one day he wakes up from a night with his bottle of rum (his truest companion), and hears that there’s colonies on Mars now, and they need ships to supply them. He spends the next decade crafting new identities, learning all he can to qualify for the job, and after several tries (and even more faked deaths-this immortality thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be in the age of the inerasable digital self) he gets it. The ships go nearly constantly now, the needs of the terraforming project creating an unbroken line of vessels from Mars to Earth and back again. “Show me that horizon,” he whispers to himself, his personal prayer of thanksgiving, each time they leave orbit, because the worlds, the stars are in motion and it’s never the same, with nearly three years for a round trip the ports are always different, even if they keep the old names. And finally one trip something goes wrong with the reactor, they’re too low on power and have to deploy the backups, and Jack (Lucky Jack, they call him, for he survives too many things he shouldn’t but science has yet to accept that maybe some things weren’t old wives’ tales after all) goes out for the spacewalk to bring up the solar panels. And as they rise, geometric patterns black against the sun’s glare, he’s struck by a powerful sense of déjà vu, because it’s all here-wind and sails, a ship beneath his feet and stars above his head, horizon in all directions. He wonders, for a moment, if the reason he’s still here is because the universe wanted a witness, to mourn the end of one age of exploration, and rejoice in the birth of the next.

(Source: jamesfrancos, via garrulus)

Notes
189541
Posted
1 week ago

nicholasdunnes:

winkbooks:

Dead Inside: Do Not Enter — Notes from the Zombie Apocalypse

Dead Inside: Do Not Enter
by Lost Zombies
Chronicle
2011, 160 pages, 8 x 10 x 0.5 inches
$15 Buy a copy on Amazon

Some of my favorite things about zombie movies are the details of the changed world. The dead grass, broken windows, toppled telephone poles, abandoned cars with missing wheels and trunks left open, boarded-up buildings, spent ammo shells, and other signs of struggle and desperation serve to create a fascinatingly creepy environment.

And that’s why I like Dead Inside: Do Not Enter so much. The book consists entirely of letters, hand-written warnings, and pages torn from journal entries that were written during the zombie pandemic. The notes are on matchbooks, napkins, photographs, advertisements, shopping lists, road maps, scraps of cardboard, and gum wrappers. Some of the notes are written with pen and pencil, others are written with lipstick, burnt wood, crayons, and blood.

The messages of the notes themselves tell the tale of the rise of the zombie pandemic, from tentative, joking questions about a “really bad flu,” escalating to confused panic, and later to grim acceptance of the new reality that the survivors now must live in.

In the introduction to Dead Inside, we learn that these notes had been found in a Dora the Explorer backpack. The first note presented in the book was written by the man who killed the owner of the backpack, a girl who was about 10 years old and had been bitten by a zombie (but had not yet turned into one). The man wrote “I opened her backpack and found all these notes and letters. This stuff is poisonous. No one in their right mind should read it. Reading this is like looking into the sun.” – Mark Frauenfelder

September 16, 2014

hopeheisagentleman

(via terrorfromtheyear5000)

Notes
48549
Posted
1 week ago

(via sleepysylph)

(via xtoxictears)

I love that sweet smell of decay that surrounds me in forests and woods. A kind of mulchy, deep, rich rot that has no connotation of death or ending, but rather of life and age. A sense of perpetual destruction and rebirth.
Notes
21865
Posted
1 week ago
anzujaamu:

New outfit post is up~! Check it out here for the links!Outfit RundownHorns: Handmade by meWig: My friend’s! 8DTop/Skirt Set&Cape: SheinsideBat Tights&Shoes: TaobaoMelty Socks: Sweetbox Store

anzujaamu:

New outfit post is up~! Check it out here for the links!

Outfit Rundown
Horns: Handmade by me
Wig: My friend’s! 8D
Top/Skirt Set&Cape: Sheinside
Bat Tights&Shoes: Taobao
Melty Socks: Sweetbox Store

(via nayaroo)

Notes
5252
Posted
1 week ago
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