— Milk Hurts

We don’t talk about John Jett enough

He’s one of my favorites, and he has a PhD in what I believe is marine biology or biology!

CLAUDIA And Claudia, for reasons she would not yet divulge, used our advantage sparingly. But make no mistake, Claudia was plotting, quiet in her deer blind. Lestat de Lioncourt. 179 years in the Savage Garden. 148 years the blood-drinker, the bringer of death… the deer come up the trail.

if i think about them too long i’ll go insane (text from @/veniennes on tiktok)

i'm listening to gathering moss, by robin wall kimmerer, and she is talking about a very odd job she was consigned to do, where an eccentric millionaire recuited her to consult on a "habitat restoration". when she arrives, the job they actually want her to do is to tell them how to plant mosses on the rocks in his garden. he wants it to look like a specific, beautiful wild cliff in the woods nearby, with centuries-old beds of moss growing thick and strong. she tells him it is impossible. such a thing would take decades to accomplish.

later, she is called back to look at the progress of the moss garden and is amazed by the thick, well-established mosses. how did they do it? she asks.

then they take her out to the woods and show her that they have been blasting huge chunks of rock out of the cliff, packaging them in burlap, and moving them to the owner's garden.

This quote really got me: "The owner is a man who loves mosses, and the exercise of power. I have no doubts of his sincerity in wishing to protect them from harm, once they conformed to his landscape design.  But I think you cannot own a thing and love it at the same time. Owning diminishes the sovreignty of a thing, enriching the possessor and diminishing the possessed. If he truly loved mosses more than control, he would have left them alone, and walked each day to see them."

- Gathering Moss by Robin Wall Kimmerer 

“What sort of world is this? Someone’s body is made into shoes, into meatballs, sausages, a bedside rug, someone’s bones are boiled to make broth… Shoes, sofas, a shoulder bag made of someone’s belly, keeping warm with someone else’s fur, eating someone’s body, cutting it into bits and frying it in oil…”

“Can it really be true? Is this nightmare really happening? This mass killing, cruel, impassive, automatic, without any pangs of conscience, without the slightest pause for thought, though plenty of thought is applied to ingenious philosophies and theologies. What sort of world is this, where killing and pain are the norm? What on earth is wrong with us?”

Olga Tokarczuk, Drive Your Plow Over The Bones of The Dead

them beating each other up is gay sex actually

"i want to kill you but i cant so lemme put you in a coma while i figure my emotions out" and then its an endless cycle until one of them is physically removed from the country or the earth

César Chávez (March 31, 1927 – April 23, 1993) was an American farm worker, labour leader, civil rights activist and vegan.

March 31st - Cesar Chavez Day - is a national commemorative holiday in the U.S. It is aimed at celebrating the birth and legacy of Chávez.

will i always be this angry?

—emma (2009) x, x.