Like, I want to be made into a beautiful glass thing. I want to be something treasured for a long time and rarely talked about. I want to live in the home of someone who loved me, and touched now and then in silent memory.
I want people to forget that I’m in there, I want the memory of what I am to pass out of the family’s knowledge. I want to be given away, and put out in a thriftstore somewhere.
I want someone to buy my ashes for $4.99 and put me in a window and love the colors. I want to cast beautiful, fractious and curving sunlight across the wall, sparkling and glowing and shimmering, depending on the time of day. I want someone to take a picture of me with the moon behind me, luminous and mysterious.
I want a witch to buy me and put me in her work room. I want an artist to leave me on their worktable. I want to inspire people and make them smile. I want to be warm from sunlight or chilly from the cool air. I want to be packed in newspaper carefully when they move. I want to be given as a holiday or graduation present to someone’s kid, I want to be given as a housewarming gift as a reminder of home.
And god, then, hopefully some day, I want to roll off the table, I want that globe to crack.
And then I want to haunt the living shit out of the future.
Holy shit, the comment made this sixty times more awesome and now I want this to be done to me too.
my great-grandchild: this is grandma orb, I don’t like calling her that she just put in her will that if she wasn’t addressed as “the orb” or something similar then she’d be pissed
What TV writers think is good LGBT representation: *protagonist teary eyed* My attraction to the same gender is so painful I wish I did not feel this way…but alas it’s my burden to bear. Also I have dated both men and women but I don’t like labels. *dies* What is actually good LGBT representation: *protagonist wearing sunglasses playing the saxophone in front of a giant bisexual flag* How am I doing? Well I’m just getting BI!!! Haha get it?? Because I like both men and women so I’m bisexual.
That picture doesn’t do this scene justice, it’s a musical number:
This shook my very existence
HOW HAVE I NEVER SEEN THIS BEFORE?? THIS MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME.
buying peaches is so stressful because you have to consume them so quickly…it’s like the moment the cashier types in that number the alpha peach turns to its brothers in the bags and says “alright listen up boys, it’s time to remember your training. i want to see immense bruising by sundown. i want to see you near inedible by sunrise. remember it is better to die a free man than to be eaten.” you gotta wolf down all of your peaches at the check out counter while the trader joe’s employees eagerly look at the Peach Consumption Countdown Clock and cheer you on. these peaches have sensors on them that can tell when they come into contact with human hands so they can begin their self-destruct sequence like you’re in a spy movie and the peach just relayed a message to you about the whereabouts of jimmy hoffa’s decayed remains
Or if you’re like me, you get the fucking stoic stalwarts who have apparently trained in resistance to all known ripening stimuli like martial artist monks exposing their body to the freezing mountain cold and searing desert sun, and stay as rock hard and grainy and flavorless as possible until the last fucking minute. And if you ever try to test them, they’ll leave you with a mouthful of dry, bland fibrous mess, like a goddamn act of defiance to your will, like “I know on this day, I will fall to you, but I will be certain that not a single moment of your victory will be enjoyable.”
brianna's tumblr exports 