Love How Tumblr Has Its Own Folk Stories. Yeah The God Of Arepo We’ve All Heard The Story And We All

Percy Jackson episode 3 + text posts

Rowan Whitethorn: Where is Aelin? Where is my wife?

Cardan Greenbriar: This is my room. And that is my wife.

Reid Diggory: You are my wife now.

Thomas Cresswell: My best friend, the absolute love of my life, now until forevermore, I call you my wife.

Casteel Da’Neer: She is my wife.

Desmond Flynn: Years I have waited for this, anticipated it. My wife.

Rhysand: Though also calling you my wife sounds mighty appealing too.

Me:

"The chimera is the demi-god killer. Someone has to stay back to slow her down and buy everyone some time."

I respect poetry so much because it does what I cannot do - say so much with so little.

When I have something Much to say, it takes me just as many words to say it. I say it with words that are each of them bland and common, unimaginative by their lonesome, with the hopes that if I stack so many together and squeeze a single drop of Much from each that it might flow into something meaningful.

When I have something to say, I say it twice. I say it three times. Because the first or second may not have captured the point. Because I do not trust myself to express the full essence saying it just once. Like just now, those last two sentences. I’ll repeat myself a third time for good measure - because I do not say it right just once or twice.

Poems say things in only a half, only a quarter. They choose single words worth more than ten of mine. I want to know how their minds shop for words. I want to distill myself like poets do. I want to trade in all my too many common words for the way they use an extraordinary few.

If I keep writing this, I’ll write it forever. I’ll explain myself again, as I have already, as I’m doing now. With more and different other words, with the hope of saying myself fully, like how all the hatched and messy wanton scribbles from a pen might finally color in a page. I want to change that. I want to not rip the page I’ve oversaturated by the tip of my pen.

I’ll start tomorrow, maybe, to explain myself less.

Me watching 5 millionaires get crushed knowing that a class of year 9’s got out of this exact situation:

Reminder that aru shah is an underrated series that is just as good if not better than pjo with genuine rep and meaningful relationships and fantastic writing and a fabulous plot and such wonderful world building and roshani chokshi deserves more credit for what she has created

Naomi: [eating a cinnamon roll]

Pippa, whispering: Cannibalism.

Naomi: [confused chewing noises]

being aromantic is like. hey btw you're going to live a life that is the culmination of most of society's worst nightmares. sorry lol ✌️ but then you turn around and take a really good hard look at it and it turns out that living in that nightmare is fucking awesome and you get to wake up every day and take that fear that other people have and laugh and hold it close until it's a great joy for you instead. and being happy is a radical act that you define instead of someone else. and you're sexy as fuck that's just a fact of life i don't make the rules on that one

thats the spirit ayyy

someone tell me a way to earn money