qwib's personal

happy Mother’s Day to these two queens

Nothing gives the same kind of random ego boost like managing to finally clean up your home and making it nice. Like ooh look at me, I'm living like people do, I made myself iced tea and I am eating my snack from a real plate. I got floors and shit.

@belmar.tattoo on Instagram

@vicissitude @juiceph @cruddyart

Iris van Herpen Fall 2023 Couture

there’s such an unbelievable multitude of this type of (straight) woman who’s like “when he mentions a ‘she’ 😡🥺👀” “when he calls some girl his ‘friend’ 👀👀🔪” etc and this person is like a different species to me. this person is a space alien. this type of person makes me feel like amy adams in arrival

there might be some major auroras tonight! look up at the sky (and send me pictures)

hey hey hey

you should look up

Shout out to Linda. The he/him asexual woman from my psychology quiz from a few years ago

Oh my god????

Oh my god.

THIS IS THE FUNNIEST FUCKING RESPONSE IVE EVER GOTTEN ON ANY OF MY POSTS EVER

Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.

All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.

No need to keep this in the tags, you're completely right about this scenario!

Falin, Oil on paper and digital

rejection sensitivity is so fucking lame. like boo hoo look at me i felt mildly ignored for 30 seconds and already started planning my own funeral liKE BITCH CHILL it was never that serious

Tumblr users be like

Ich fleh euch an. Geht wählen und wählt GEGEN NAZIS.

Wenn ihr nicht zum Wahllokal gehen wollt: Für die Briefwahl müsst ihr nur den QR Code auf der Wahlbenachrichtigung einscannen und eure Kontaktdaten angeben. Dann wird euch der Wahlzettel nach Hause geschickt!

Man darf diesmal sogar mit 16 Jahren schon wählen. Nutzt dieses Recht!

Wenn ihr nicht wisst, wen ihr wählen sollt: Der Wahl-O-Mat zur Europawahl 2024 ist seit heute online. Dort einfach bei den 38 Thesen auf stimme zu/neutral/stimme nicht zu (oder überspringen) klicken und dann kann man sehen welche Parteien zu einem passen. Dort kann man auch die Stellungnahmen der Parteien zu allen Thesen finden.

Auch wenn ihr nicht mit den großen Parteien zufrieden seid, geht wählen! Bei der Europawahl haben wir keine 5% Hürde in Deutschland, sodass auch kleinere Parteien 1-2 Abgeordnete stellen können (Nico Semsrott, der für Die PARTEI ins EU Parlament kam [wobei er dann aus der Partei ausgetreten ist], gibt einige interessante Einblicke ins EU Parlament auf seinem Youtube Kanal). Ich würde aber trotzdem empfehlen ein paar Prognosen zu verfolgen und nicht eine Partei zu wählen, die mit großer Wahrscheinlichkeit nicht genug Stimmen bekommt für mind. eine*n Abgeordnete*n.

Grundlegende Infos zur Europawahl 2024 von MrWissen2go:

Last week I accidentally took an edible at 10x my usual dose. I say “accidentally” but it was really more of a “my friend held it out to my face and I impulsively swallowed it like a python”, which was technically on purpose but still an accident in that my squamate instincts acted faster than my ability to assess the situation and ask myself if I really wanted to get Atreides high or not.

Anyway. I was painting the wall when it hit. My friend heard me make a noise and asked what was wrong—I explained that I had just fallen through several portals. I realized that painting the wall fulfilled my entire hierarchy of needs, and was absolutely sure that I was on track to escaping the cycle of samsara if I just kept at it a little longer. I was thwarted on my journey towards nirvana only by the fact that I ran out of paint.

Seeking a surrogate act of humble service through which I might be redeemed and made human, I turned to unwashed dishes in the sink and took up the holy weapon of the sponge. I was partway through cleaning the blender when it REALLY hit.

You ever clean a blender? It’s a shockingly intimate act. They are complex tools. One of the most complicated denizens of the kitchen. Glass and steel and rubber and plastic. Fuck! They’ve got gaskets. You can’t just scrub ‘em and rinse them down like any other piece of shit dish. You’ve got to dissemble them piece by piece, groove by sensitive groove, taking care to lavish the spinning blades with cautious attention. There’s something sensual about it. Something strangely vulnerable.

As I stood there, turning the pieces over in my hands, I thought about all the things we ask of blenders. They don’t have an easy job. They are hard laborers taking on a thankless task. I have used them so roughly in my haste for high-density smoothies, pushing them to their limits and occasionally breaking them. I remembered the smell of acrid smoke and decaying rubber that filled the kitchen in the break room the last time I tried to make a smoothie at work—the motor overtaxed and melted, the gasket cracked and brittle. Strawberry slurry leaked out of it like the blood of a slain animal.

Was this blender built to last? Or was it doomed to an early grave in some distant landfill by the genetic disorder of planned obsolescence? I didn’t know, and was far too high to make an educated guess. But I knew that whatever care and tenderness and empathy I put into it, the more respect for the partnership of man and machine, the better it would perform for me.

This thought filled me with a surge of affection. However long its lifespan, I wanted it to be filled with dignity and love and understanding. I thought: I bet no one has hugged this blender before. And so I lifted it from its base.

A blender is roughly the size and shape of a human baby. Cradling one in your arms satisfies a primal need. A month ago I was permitted to hold an infant for the first time in my life, an experience which was physically and psychologically healing. I felt an echo of that satisfaction holding my friend the blender, and the thought of parting with it felt even more ridiculous than bringing it with me to hang out on my friend’s bed.

1908 (10 May) Corset-less dress by Jeanne Margaine-Lacroix worn at the Prix du Prince de Galles at Longchamp by ?. From rbkclibraries.wordpress.com/2013/07/12/margaine-lacroix-and-the-dresses-that-shocked-paris/; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1278X2616