Detroit Free Press, Michigan, May 4, 1950

Fall

one of my greatest pet peeves in fiction, and it is truly stupid I know, is that no one seems to understand how genuinely hard it is to kill someone via stabbing. stab wounds have a mortality rate of like 5%. especially abdominal stabbing. tv shows and movies show dudes getting stabbed one time in the lower abdomen with a tiny knife and then they fall over. like what did he die of precisely. that man died of Small Knife

think it's a deep consolation to know that spiders dream, that monkeys tease predators, that dolphins have accents, that lions can be scared silly by a lone mongoose, that otters hold hands, and ants bury their dead. that there isn't their life and our life. nor your life and my life. that it's just one teetering and endless thread and all of us, all of us, are entangled w it as deep as entanglement goes. v neat i think.

Vladimir Mayakovsky, from a letter featured in "Love in the Heart of Everything; The Correspondence between Vladimir Mayakovsky & Lili Brik, 1915-1930,"

my easily jumpscared gf has her back to the door in our new place and every time i need to announce myself like im an angel of god

sorry i didn't text back i've been having a bad day since i was like 12 years old

I am reasonably fun to hang out with and my company is enjoyed by well over 10 people worldwide

I am taking everyone who made a poll to gauge the True Percentage of Queers on Tumblr and putting them through a statistics course

oh. hey.

A tiny family

so demanding

happy "everyone forgets that icarus also flew" monday. i want to throw up !