August302014
vitagraphia:

“Cynicism is not wisdom. Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but cynicism is a self-imposed blindness. You put the blinders on yourself to protect yourself from a world that you think might hurt you or disappoint you. Be a fool. Believe things will be good. Better to be hurt.” -Stephen Colbert

vitagraphia:

“Cynicism is not wisdom. Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but cynicism is a self-imposed blindness. You put the blinders on yourself to protect yourself from a world that you think might hurt you or disappoint you. Be a fool. Believe things will be good. Better to be hurt.” -Stephen Colbert

August262014

deskgirl:

nonbinaryviola:

talk street magic to me

drawing power from the metro lines

illusionists busking illegally, shimmering lights disintegrating as they run

plant mages tending tiny rooftop and windowbox gardens

elementary kids learning basic sigils on the playground

wixen taking a while to key into the magic in new cities when they move

alchemists dealing on the side to support their experiments

middleschoolers making friendship talismans and amulets for everyone

numerologists who’ll do your math homework for $5 or divine your fortune for $10

kids mass-texting luck and speed spells when their parties get broken up by the cops

Hell yeah, let’s talk about magic.

Like elementary kids learning silly (or inappropriate) charms from each other on the bus, the same way we learned our first swear words. Clapping games across the bus aisle, but with spells instead of rhymes.

Worrying that your friend is getting into dark magic, but not knowing how to talk to them about it. Intervention programs for kids abusing hexes and runes, because magic has given them control over something for once in their life, and they’re starting to make some dangerous choices.

Psychic teachers knowing when you’re cheating. Knowing when you’re having trouble with homework. Or at home. Knowing when you need tutoring or an AP course because you’re just not being challenged or a different teaching method because you can’t process what you’re learning in class no matter how hard you try, and the teacher tells you it’s okay, they know. They know.

Magic graffiti. Graffiti in wild places, and graffiti that vanishes when certain people roll by like the police. Or graffiti that only appears when the police walk by to insult them. Murals. Swirling, living murals on the sides of buildings. Murals that—if you listen closely—can be heard, not just seen.

In the evenings, kids hiding out in someone’s backyard or an alley passing around a joint and casting minor illusions to watch while high.

Chalk artists making works that are so realistic, they come to life off of the sidewalk.

One man bands in the park, with instruments floating around playing themselves.

Punk concerts in empty lots with amped out music and lights, but noise-cancelling spells and illusion hide them in plain sight from anyone outside of the lot.

Mediums predicting people in need, and making sure to be there at just the right moment to lend them a helping hand. “You seem upset, do you need to talk?” “Oh, you’re a dollar short? No, don’t put the milk back; I’ll cover you.” “I think your hair looks perfect today.” “You really ought to try taking your resume to this store. Trust me.”

Necromancers in forensics speaking with the dead to solve homicides and cold cases. Living lie detectors as beat cops and detectives and DEA agents.

Strangely cheap five star food diners that bake actual love into their apple pie, and they always know your dietary restrictions without being told.

Service golems in various sizes and shapes, making sure their magic users aren’t crowded, get medical attention, go where they need to, etc.They don’t get distracted, they can be hollow to hold things like medications, and in rare instances… they seem to develop loving attachment to their users despite not being alive.

Little old landladies who dabble in witchcraft brewing homeopathic remedies for people in their apartment complex.

Street magic is an amazing concept.

(Source: cpk4709, via winneganfake)

August242014

vandyt-xain:

jodiamandis:

sehboofs:

that one time a guy from my school was sent home for wearing a skirt and everyone wore skirts as a protest the following school day

image

That’s beautiful

Awesome.

Yes good.

August222014
6AM

iluvatardis:

polyamorousmisanthrope:

valkyriestrikeofthelashatterdome:

gotterdammerungs:

                             (x)

And then in the future, everything changes. He’s been through it all, of course-watched humanity rediscover the heavens above them, watched them begin to wonder what’s out there. He cheered with the rest of the world when they landed on the moon, cheered as if he’d found Isla de la Muerta all over again, because there was something new. New treasure, a new horizon. But then they stop going, stop exploring, and he goes back to riding tankers across the rising seas. So he’s surprised when one day he wakes up from a night with his bottle of rum (his truest companion), and hears that there’s colonies on Mars now, and they need ships to supply them. He spends the next decade crafting new identities, learning all he can to qualify for the job, and after several tries (and even more faked deaths-this immortality thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be in the age of the inerasable digital self) he gets it. The ships go nearly constantly now, the needs of the terraforming project creating an unbroken line of vessels from Mars to Earth and back again. “Show me that horizon,” he whispers to himself, his personal prayer of thanksgiving, each time they leave orbit, because the worlds, the stars are in motion and it’s never the same, with nearly three years for a round trip the ports are always different, even if they keep the old names. And finally one trip something goes wrong with the reactor, they’re too low on power and have to deploy the backups, and Jack (Lucky Jack, they call him, for he survives too many things he shouldn’t but science has yet to accept that maybe some things weren’t old wives’ tales after all) goes out for the spacewalk to bring up the solar panels. And as they rise, geometric patterns black against the sun’s glare, he’s struck by a powerful sense of déjà vu, because it’s all here-wind and sails, a ship beneath his feet and stars above his head, horizon in all directions. He wonders, for a moment, if the reason he’s still here is because the universe wanted a witness, to mourn the end of one age of exploration, and rejoice in the birth of the next.

Thank you for writing this. It made me cry, but oh I am so relieved to see the yearning for the stars.

That shouldn’t have given me as many feels as it did… 

(Source: jamesfrancos, via winneganfake)

August212014

phonestrumpet:

suricattus:

"um, it’s as though Twitter and Pinterest had an unholy love child that they abandoned to be raised by Livejournal."

- me, trying to explain Tumblr to non-savvy cohort

Accurate as fuck. 

(via ashbless)

10AM

fenrir-kin:

imgonnashoottothrill:

Dean’s 5th tattoo. It’s of the wolf, Fenrir, from the Norse Poetic Edda.

That’s AMAZING

*_*

(via ashbless)

August192014
August182014

abandonedography:

Abandoned Underground by 5isalive

Beautiful!

(via winneganfake)

August162014

moonykins:

tattle-crime:

lithefider:

A few more shots of my Nightmare Stag (Raven Stag, whichever you wanna call it).  The top one I did reminding me of some art I saw lambylimbs draw.  Others photos of this costume are under this tag [x].  Photos taken by wahrsager !

This is unreasonably beautiful! Lovely!

Holy fudgemonkey, what a beautiful costume!

Beautiful.

(via ashbless)

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