this can help

it’s so weird hearing americans talk about Target© as some kind of semi-religious holy space of reasonably priced goods and services, bc in it’s short, fever-dream existence up here in the frozen north it was… Not Good. 

in my experience with the three (3) i went to in the surrounding area it was. uh. you know when you step into a place and there’s nothing immediately noticeably wrong but you can just Feel that this is a Bad Space? like the kind of space where if you catch a glimpse of your mother walking down an aisle and turning a corner you know it’s a demonic trick and if you follow her it’ll lead you down a path to a dark space you can’t return from?

or you go in with your friend who’s right next to you but you get a text from them saying “hey i’m in the shoe aisle, you should come here” and you know it’s a trap from the devil? like other things:

  • only half of the dim, washed out, often flickering fluorescent lights were lit at any given time, usually only every-other set, leaving these valleys of darkness that made entire aisles inaccessible for fear of shadow people latching on to your soul like a dark passenger. 
  • entire sections were just Empty. empty shelves with no product, never any employees filling them up, no boxes waiting to be unpacked, no signs saying what should be there.
  • no employees at all actually? wandering around the store even though the parking lots were full and you walked in with a group of 20 or so felt so lonely. you could walk the whole place and it was dead silent and the only other “people” around always were several aisles away with their back turned, unmoving. there was always only one cashier and there was never anyone in her line.
  • there was never any music on or announcements played? another place that does this are all the dollar trees in my area and it gives me anxiety. i feel like i’m being hunted, like i have to hold my breath and listen for the footsteps of beasts in other aisles. 
  • the fitting rooms had a strange, dark energy to them. it felt like if you ever used them, whatever universe you closed the door on would not be the same one you stepped out into when you were done. the washrooms also contained this same dark energy.
  • passing the employees-only doors felt like wandering too close to a bears den. the glass windows never showed anything going on back there, no racks of product, no employees milling around. it was just pitch black, complete darkness. a hungry void.
  • leaving a target was the same disorienting feeling as leaving a dark theatre and exiting into the light. sound and colour and feeling rush back in. you feel like you can breathe again. a weight is lifted from your shoulders. you can’t remember any of the time you spent inside the target.

it is my sincere belief that the targets in canada never existed. the storefronts were put up, yes, but the stores themselves were vast empty caverns filled with dark dreams and sinister interlopers attracted to the malignant leftover energies from zellers. passing through the automatic doors was meant to teleport us to the nearest american location, but something went wrong and we entered an unnatural zone halfway between the upside down and whatever it was that happened in the langoliers. 

i believe the balls outside target are carefully crafted and powerfully attuned magical artifacts that keep up the illusion known as Target©, but were incorrectly spaced in canada due to a mixup between the metric and imperial systems of measurement, and that is why the brief twilight zone episode that was canadian target collapsed virtually overnight.

honestly it’s actually the small, mundane, boring things that someone does for you out of love which mean so much rather than grand gestures and proclamations

when it’s september so you’re skippin this town to get yoself back to Hogwarts where everything is magicool and totally awesome

happy september first to all the hotties nerds and tools (but mostly the nerds)

2

wolfstar babes

7

A doodled comic about my many inconsequential quirk related questions 

Slytherin: Hey, Ravenclaw, you said you would help me out if I needed something, right?

Ravenclaw: Yeah, what’s up?

Slytherin: The password to my dormitory is something bigoted again, and I was hoping I could stay in your dormitory. Could I have the password?

Ravenclaw: Of course! Just knock on the knocker and answer the Eagle’s question.

Slytherin: Wait, I have to actually think of things to get in?

Ravenclaw: Yeah, what’s the problem?

Slytherin: Fuck it, I’m asking Gryffindor, they can’t possibly be asked to think.

hi I’m kelsey.

I’m in a really bad situation at the moment and it’s really hard for me to even write this, I’m not one to usually ask or even open up when help is needed but this is really urgent and apparently this is all I have left. 

So my mum was recently diagnosed with a disability called MS which is basically like brain damage and it affects the whole body, she had to leave her job because she’s in so much pain and she was on sick pay for a while which did help but now she’s not getting any money and even the government won’t give her money. 

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les amis inktober day six: ‘sword’ 
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i just wanted to draw eponine in reading glasses

Reigen ran his thumb along the candle nearest him. Rain still pelted outside, a shivering chorus, as a last bit of water dripped from his hairline and curved along his scarred cheek. He lifted the candle and sniffed it, and the smell dragged him to a time when he’d been just a bit happier than he was now.

Read here!

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everybody screws up. that’s what happens. it’s what you do with the screw-ups, it’s how you handle the experience - that’s what you should judge yourself by. i have a great life and an amazing kid. and i took a detour, i ended up some place good.