northisnotup:

vampireapologist:

admittedly I don’t normally like modern shakespeare adaptations but once I went to see my cousin in a midsummer night’s dream and it opened with a high schooler saying “I don’t wanna read this play” so he sits down and eats an entire chipotle burrito on stage and then immediately falls asleep and the play begins but instead of the forest the faeries all hang out in a rainforest cafe TM and at one point in the middle of a scene the guy from the beginning just slowly drifts across the back of the stage on a skateboard, staring at all the characters as the events of the play transpire in the form of some sort of chipotle-induced coma lucid dream

THAT is EXACTLY what Shakespeare would have wanted

fables-of-the-reconstruction:

Do you remember when we met
in Gomorrah? When you were still beardless,
and I would oil my hair in the lamp light before seeing
you, when we were young, and blushed with youth
like bruised fruit. Did we care then
what our neighbors did
in the dark?

When our first daughter was born
on the River Jordan, when our second
cracked her pink head from my body
like a promise, did we worry
what our friends might be
doing with their tongues?

What new crevices they found
to lick love into or strange flesh
to push pleasure from, when we
called them Sodomites then,
all we meant by it
was neighbor.

When the angels told us to run
from the city, I went with you,
but even the angels knew
that women always look back.
Let me describe for you, Lot,
what your city looked like burning
since you never turned around to see it.

Sulfur ran its sticky fingers over the skin
of our countrymen. It smelled like burning hair
and rancid eggs. I watched as our friends pulled
chunks of brimstone from their faces. Is any form
of loving this indecent?

Cover your eyes tight,
husband, until you see stars, convince
yourself you are looking at Heaven.

Because any man weak enough to hide his eyes while his neighbors
are punished for the way they love deserves a vengeful god.

I would say these things to you now, Lot,
but an ocean has dried itself on my tongue.
So instead I will stand here, while my body blows itself
grain by grain back over the Land of Canaan.
I will stand here
and I will watch you
run.

Karen Finneyfrock

mortallyoptimisticwhispers:

dateagirlwhosweird:

Date a girl who has seen the end of your relationship. She has seen how it burns down into ashes, to be blown away like nothing was ever there.

Date a girl who loves you anyway.

You both happily marry and live on in marital bliss for the rest of your lives. Eventually, though, as is inevitable for all living things, your health begins to deteriorate with age, and you die peacefully in your sleep. There was no sadness upon hearing the news of your death, everyone knew it was time, and you had made peace with the world.

Many years earlier, you had made your final wishes known, and planned your cremation. You never liked the idea of being locked in a box six feet underground for the rest of eternity and especially disliked the idea of being pumped full of harsh and harmful chemicals, at high expense for your family.

The service was lovely, and your family and friends gathered in your home to tell stories about you and remember your life. Your friends and family then piled into your niece’s car and drove to the funeral home. People thought it was strange that your wife requested that she be able to be there when the cremation was to begin and that she be able to light the machine, but accepted it nonetheless. She saw it as a sort of final goodbye, a brief, personal way to send you off onto the next leg of your eternal journey, sending the atoms of your body back into the earth to create more beautiful things.

As she pushed that button and said her goodbyes, she remembered that she had seen the relationship end like this, in flames, crumbling into ash, and was glad that she decided to continue your relationship, realizing that both of you had become better people because of each other’s companionship. 

Later on your wife decides to scatter some of your ashes in the garden near the flowers and trees that you had lovingly cultivated together, the fragments of your ashes floating away, off to create beautiful things for the entire human race.

tilthat:

TIL that the salvation army is not a charity. They are an Evangelical business that spent thousands of dollars of donated money to fight gay rights last year. In fact, lots of donated money goes to promoting their beliefs, not charity.

via reddit.com

upthewitchypunx:

midnight-forest:

Me, a secular witch: Shit, I’m in trouble if I don’t find the thing.

Something: Pssst look in that drawer.

Me: Finds thing that will work better in the drawer.

Me:…

Something: Raises eyebrow

Me: Was that, are you..?

Something: You’re welcome.

In my practice that a is what I refer to as my soft animism. I project a need and something goes “I can help with that! I’m over here!” it could also be spirits or whatnot.

orriculum:

orriculum:

I bought a little pink rock salt lamp, and i licked it just now….can confirm it is very salty

Im glad this is Relatable

I used to work at a craft store and once wondered aloud in front of my boss (a grown woman with children) if one of the pink Himalayan salt lamps we’d gotten in tasted salty. She gave me a strange look so I thought that was that, except about thirty minutes later over the radio she says, with no context to anyone else: “Yeah, it’s salty.”