@cheesymovie / cheesymovie.tumblr.com
the world doesnt make men feel beautiful and make women feel ugly. it makes women feel they literally exist for men’s use. that is why redefining beauty is idiotic. why are we trying to expand the parameters in which you can exist in to be deemed fuckable by men when the problem is this tyrannical idea in the first place
This caption on an instagram reel made by nuns is poetry to me
honestly big shout out to snoopy to be honest
earlier today i told an acquaintance in passing that i'll often be in the middle of a novel and think "man i wish this shit were more ambiguous" and had to reiterate twice that i wasn't being sarcastic before they believed me, so this post is to say: i love when writers don't bother to explain everything, i love when stories end uncertain and unsettling, i love being required to think as a reader, i love when stuff makes no damn sense, no i'm not kidding
why did he say this
happy we’re just normal men wednesday
writing to the romance columnist at his own job while staring forlornly at a framed photo of his crush he’s just too much
just got beat up by a bunch of monks no not the ones that are cool and fight eachother it was the boring ones yeah i said that to them thats why they beat me up
they tonsured your ass didn't they
Yeah and my head too unfortunately
lollll dude have you seriously not realized that all things are delicately interconnected yet? at your age?
always so touching and vibrant when you remember people a hundred years ago had profound lives full of fun and love
my great grandparents met because they were both telephonist-telegraphists and they used to communicate in spoken morse code so that their kids wouldn’t understand the dirty jokes they were saying. And my great-aunt was telling me the other day about how her father would sit with his kids during stormy nights and hug them as they looked out the window and he pointed out how beautiful the lightning was. Because he didn’t want them to be afraid. It isn’t far away but it’s easy to forget that people are people are people
isn’t it cool that we still take silly pictures where we pretend to put our baby niece for sale or where we pretend to officiate a funeral on the beach? I think that’s neat
It’s that month again folks! Happy February.
Superman & Lois in “Harley Quinn: A Very Problematic Valentine’s Day Special.”
you’re twelve years old and you break your father’s hand when he hi-fives you. the first thing you learn is that the smallest slip up can hurt the people you love. your (foster) father smiles and says it’s okay (it’s not).
your parents are not your parents. the idyllic farming community that raised you is not your home. you’re a You-Don’t-Know-What from You-Don’t-Know-Where. all you know for sure is that you’re not human.
so you can fly. so you can run fast. so you can lift cars. so what? why do you even have this power? what should you even do with it?
your father said do what’s right, so that’s what you do.
you stop a robbery. the man’s knife shatters against your skin and you see the same fear in his eyes that you saw in your father’s when you were twelve. you catch a falling child before it can hit the water. his mother looks at you like you’re a god.
they love you, even though they don’t know you. the most powerful man in the world hates you because they love you.
you wanted to write when you were younger. you wanted to tell stories that needed to be told. you never wanted to star in them. you never wanted super-geniuses and demi-goddesses looking to you for advice; like you have any idea how to handle threats to reality itself. you’re just a kid from smallville who’s trying to do the best he can with what he’s given.
you try and get back to the farm as much as you can. it feels normal being back among the open wheat; where everyone smiles because you’re that nice Kent boy.
when you were younger, you pretended to fly, hands out to your sides and running through the tall grass by the river. it doesn’t look as beautiful from on high; the details get lost and the colors of your hometown blur together from a mile above ground.
the problem with flying is that it puts you so far above people you care about
“oh but Superman is such a boring c-“ shut up shut up shut up forever.
I could be the person writing one time verification codes. 873726. 290971. 041452. 667656. It comes naturally to me.
They look so good
an incomplete collection of tweets i consider to be short poems
scientists are blowing up rats and shit in a lab trying to figure out how to make an even more refreshing mint, and they’re starting to get there
