and very, very often, self care is not plants and ice rollers and fluffy blankets of peace.

it’s standing over your kitchen sink and crying while doing the dishes because you just want to go back to bed but the dishes need done. and you don’t know why you’re crying but you're trusting you need it. and you aren’t listening to the music that pulls you into a spiral; you’re listening to some cheerful shit your friend sent you. it’s getting up and staring at your fridge and closing your eyes and then cooking yourself food even though you hate it and it’s miserable. because you know that you’d cook for your friend, and you are trying to befriend yourself. it’s dragging yourself into the shower because you know you’ll feel better afterwards. it’s doing mundane tasks with patience, cursing under your breath, trying desperately to give yourself grace. grace is the beginning of care. care is the beginning of love.

we think it’s supposed to be peace and yet the most powerful self care moments are when we hate everything but especially ourselves. and life does not feel worth the loving. to look into that pain and yet choose to care for yourself in however many pieces you are — that is care. love. grace. trust. belief. it hurts because it’s love where there was no love before. it heals because it believes there will be love, one day, soon.

There needs to be a rebrand on self care because taking care of yourself is more than taking care of your looks even if capitalism and influencers have tried to frame it that way. Treat yourself with love.

Let us just appreciate that this person’s dad didn’t know when they would be home and so he couldn’t plan for them to be able to join the family for dinner, but he knew with no doubts that dear sweet Meatloaf staying in that exact position for hours was an absolute in this scenario. Truly, that cat was named well.

one of my favorite posts on tumblr over the course of 5 fucking years.. clearly i need a life

Meatloaf is a reliable cat and did not steal the money for selfish reasons. A rare friend.

I love Meatloaf. :)

Bless Meatloaf

Reblog Money Meatloaf to get surprise $40

Always reblog Meatloaf!

system of a left

system of a right

This is a comment someone appended to a photo of two men apparently having sex in a very fancy room, but it’s also kind of an amazing two-line poem? “His Wife has filled his house with chintz” is a really elegant and beautiful counterbalancing of h, f, and s sounds, and “chintz” is a perfect word choice here—sonically pleasing and good at evoking nouveau riche tackiness. And then “to keep it real I fuck him on the floor” collapses that whole mood with short percussive sounds—but it’s still a perfect iambic pentameter line, robust and a lovely obscene contrast with the chintz in the first line. Well done, tumblr user jjbang8

I hate that my aesthetic sense agrees with this but everything you just said was correct

I went back to dig up this post because I was thinking about poetry.

This is one of those non-poem things that are among my favorite poems.

As the OP stated, the use of alliterative consonants is aesthetically just great, especially the placement of the strongest use at the end: “fuck him on the floor.” The use of “chintz” is indeed great word choice.

Because I’m insane, decided to scan the poem:

Not only is the second sentence, indeed, perfect iambic pentameter, the entire poem is perfectly metered, though the first sentence has four iambs rather than five.

There are further things I love about this poem, though: I like the casual connotations of “keep it real” juxtaposed with “chintz.” It causes me to interpret the “chintz” more strongly as meaning something fake, a facade. There is also of course the coarseness of “fuck,” which is a contrast with “chintz” but a different kind of contrast, gutsy and carnal where “chintz” is flimsy and inanimate.

And then there is the storytelling: there is SO MUCH storytelling in just these two lines. To break it down: The speaker is having sex with a married man, in the house he shares with his wife, which is “filled with chintz”—something that here connotes fakeness, in contrast with “keep it real.”

The illicit encounter in the poem takes place within a house filled with facade, the flimsy construction of the wife’s marriage and domestic sphere, but the encounter itself is a taste of something “real.” That’s a story, and it’s just two lines.

This is EIGHTEEN SYLLABLES, y’all. The amount of meaning condensed into these eighteen syllables is stunning, and it is so elegantly done.

From a technical standpoint (and ive taken 300- and 400-level poetry classes so I can say this) this is damn near flawless as a poem.

Kept thinking about this ever since I saw it and had to do something

there's art now

Ah dang to go further; the floor is framed as a refuge. As if there is literally no other space in this house that hasn't been populated by his wife with flimsy inanimate fakery. There is no space for this man in this house save for the floor. There is no space for him on the sofa, oon the counter tops, and most notably, no space for him in the marital bed.

I’d also like to point out the use of the word “has.” The wife has filled the house with chintz. She isn’t filling the house with chintz. She doesn’t fill the house with chintz. She has filled the house with chintz. Use of the past-tense makes the wife a subtly removed element in the story, someone whose presence we see in the environment, but who is blissfully distant during the actors throes of passion. There is an element of physical as well as emotional separation from the wife that is catalyzed by being fucked on the floor. Use of the past tense is an end to the wife presence in the actors life, a carnal catharsis amid cold fragility and emotional distance.

How do u get diagnosed with autism?

happy pride month from the one and only hatsune miku

M-M-M-MULTIKILL!

hobbits were so real for being interested in peace and quiet, food, beer, weed, and not ever wearing shoes

i hope every assignment. dies

reblog to eat all of your mutuals assignments like a dog

LEGO - Rubber Duck 

almost didn’t hit reblog till that last image 

“why do i believe this” and “who benefits from me believing it” are the first steps to decolonization and we should all be doing this more

since this is on my dash again another two steps, a little harder this time

“who do i hurt when i do this?” and “could i look them in the eye, validate and acknowledge that hurt, and then keep doing it anyway?”

feels like a good day for another two.

“whose voice is missing from this story” and then “how do i seek out those voices/how does a story i think i know change when i add new perspectives”

Rb if you would not be S+P approved

reblog to give the person you reblogged from a cool rock you found

anyway please look at this

As a final goodbye, Blue Sky Studios came together and gave Scrat a send off on their own terms.

He finally got his nut.