pure:

pure:

Yeah it’s cool to pretend you hate this site despite logging in via oxygen mask every day like a coward but I’m gonna miss this site when it tanks. Never have I interacted with a piece of media that is this entertaining and outrageous. It’s historical.

Tumblr’s polarity is truly only outmatched by Twitter to me. There are amazing and creative people here and then there are demons and scoundrels and the insane amount of micro-societies created by both would make any sociologist have a field day. You are always two degrees of separation away from mind-blowing confusion if you click any link on your dashboard. The constant stimulation…is terrifying.

kuanios:

“All unnecessary weight is eliminated… . Even the brain cells needed for song are lost and replaced seasonally in some birds.
—All the Birds of North America, p. 63 At midnight, in the sunroom of the ward,
when you’re locked in your pyjamas, stupid
with heartbreak, and your throat a frozen stream,
you’ll read how birds in winter lose their minds,
or lose that part that urges them to sing—
each glad cell dying in the blood, until
they know no love but the sparse, sterile seed,
the bitter pills that fatten and preserve
their hearts against this thoughtless cold, this dark.
And yet they seem at peace with this: they love,
they turn away from love, they wait for love
to come for them again, and trusting, sing
the song they knew was gone for good—I knew
you’d come back, I knew it, I knew you’d come.”

— “After Visiting Hours”, Leon Weinmann.