Had a dream last night there was a new Tumblr feature called “WANNA SHARE WITH THE CLASS?” (all caps) where if you thought about something too often Tumblr would reach into ur mind and post it for you
[Image ID: on a white background, there are three pink and insect-like creatures in an upside down triangle formation. The two at the top have translucent skin, allowing you to see their intestines. The one at the bottom has a white halo. They are flying above a hazy depiction of a rainbow, with soft yellow and green lights behind them. There is hot pink text at the bottom, written in all caps in a wavering light pink box. The text reads:
For a long time everything was hard and many of us died. This image is not one of rejoicing or hope but of harrowing and bedraggled survival. My mom knows I’m not straight now. My friends’ loved ones keep getting sick and dying. I like to talk to them about it because my father died in front of me. It’s good to talk. We are talkative creatures with soft bodies. I like to think that thoughtforms make the lights flicker around me and that they are also softbodied and talkative and fallible and warm. Believing I am connecting to other dimensions that speak to me with benign intent is one of an ever narrowing body of threads that keep me optimistic. My headlight has been stolen three times in as many months. Someone on my street knows I am stupid enough to keep replacing it. They must not see me as a person. To them, I am a shitty silver Volkswagen Beetle. They aren’t far from wrong. I have it easier than most people, I really do though I don’t let on, and I still slip into a poisonous delusion that I am in hell now. I am not. If you’re reading this, neither are you. Some things still may taste good. If not, there is at least one one that still works. Hell would never. /End ID.]
