the-haiku-bot:

dragonflea:

writing-is-a-martial-art:

You meet god and she’s mostly dead fish. You ask her why and she says most of the world is dead fish, and she’s made herself to appeal to the most common denominator, the everyman funnyman comedy show that runs for eleven seasons but with the entire universe in mind. You ask her how much of the dead fish is your fault, she says it’s far less than you’d think, in the grand scheme of things. You ask her if you matter at all. If you can do anything. She shrugs her rotting shoulders and says mattering is a made-up concept, like life, but sure, you can matter if you want to, on some scale. She has many scales. She doesn’t know what you mean by ‘anything’, but you can do everything you can. You ask her if it’s enough. She says there’s no base requirement for deserving to exist. She’s smoking a joint and the smoke filtering out of her gills gathers and forms gas giants and red dwarfs. You ask her if there’s any hidden secrets of the universe you should know and she says it’s not a secret if she tells, plus it’s fun to let you figure it out yourself. You ask her if any of your questions were right questions and she says you worry about being right so much it might keep you from fucking around, which is as close to meaning of life as she ever bothered to make. You don’t ask but she says she loves your hair, also your whole being, also your planet. She says she figured out what love is yesterday and is trying it out, which explains the ten thousand rainbows and sudden influx in rains of fish. She offers you a drag of her joint and you wake up half past midnight behind a chain restaurant clutching a smoked salmon. The new stars are winking like they’re in on some joke and you’re sure if you try hard enough you’ll remember what it is.

Idk what just happened but op’s right, writing *is* a martial art

Idk what just

happened but op’s right, writing

*is* a martial art

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

act1scene6:

a little life — hanya yanagihara

the king’s men — nora sakavic

aristotle and dante dive into the waters of the world — benjamin alire sáenz

red, white & royal blue — casey mcquiston

the house in the cerulean sea — t.j klune

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo — taylor jenkins reid

call down the hawk — maggie stiefvater

crooked kingdom — leigh bardugo

crustaceousfaggot:

lolawashere:

Meanwhile, on Twitter:

Brain farts, a thread

When I was in London I was waiting in line at a store, and this little British boy in his little British School Boy Uniform asked me “are you in the queue?” And my head just started racing because oh my god he said queue that’s just a British thing to say how do I reply to that? If I just say yes in my regular accent, he’ll think I’m American, because how would he know the difference between Canadian and American accents, and I don’t want him to think I’m American, but I can’t say it in a British accent because my British accent isn’t very good, and obviously he’ll see right through it and that would be embarrassing as all hell what do I do????

So after staring at him blankly for a second I said “Oui” and then moved out of the line to let him go in front of me.

I think about that day a lot.

whitmerule:

farisya-yodalmighty:

tiktoks-for-tired-tots:

This is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

Perfect example of an untranslatable joke. 😂

kazbiter:

due to Neil’s incredibly unreliable narration, readers of All For The Game often develop Neil Josten Syndrome ™️- that is, they also are rather confused about why the fuck is happening exactly and how Neil is going to get out of it but can and happily will talk about Andrew Minyard in intense detail

toastbutteregg:

artemis-in-space:

fieldbears:

chaoticgouda:

I’m sorry milord, but the peasants are nailing erotic artwork of you and your court jester to the church doors again

and the ship name, squire? what is the ship name

“… Kinglebells, m'lord.”

what-grace-has-forgiveness:

amotleycrew:

you know what’s a trope that never gets tired is when theyre bouncing around in the plot and suddenly an important name crops up- it’s blorbo bleebus. and some dude is like who the hell is blorbo bleebus. and we immediately cut to our new friend blorbo bleebus pulling the most absolutely buckwild shit you’ve ever seen

enhanced edition of this trope is when they cut to blorbo bleebus doing something entirely contradictory to how they were just introduced, like “i know a professional, someone discreet who can handle things quietly” cut to blorbo bleebus in the wildest fucking bar brawl you’ve ever seen, screaming their own name and stopping to down shots while still holding some dude in a headlock

what-grace-has-forgiveness:

amotleycrew:

you know what’s a trope that never gets tired is when theyre bouncing around in the plot and suddenly an important name crops up- it’s blorbo bleebus. and some dude is like who the hell is blorbo bleebus. and we immediately cut to our new friend blorbo bleebus pulling the most absolutely buckwild shit you’ve ever seen

enhanced edition of this trope is when they cut to blorbo bleebus doing something entirely contradictory to how they were just introduced, like “i know a professional, someone discreet who can handle things quietly” cut to blorbo bleebus in the wildest fucking bar brawl you’ve ever seen, screaming their own name and stopping to down shots while still holding some dude in a headlock

chosoxkamo:

book reads in 2022: [RADIO SILENCE by Alice Oseman]

Sometimes you can’t say the things you’re thinking. Sometimes it’s too hard.

paradoxolotl:

owochimuwu:

i encourage you to do whatever you want until someone kills you. this has worked out spectacularly for me

@amaliaisabel stop being so funny 😂