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Anybody else think the magical lens is problematic like being able to see into a persons darkest desires is kinda fucked up

asked my cat if he wanted dinner or the slop that kills him and my twin was like "he can hear you, you know?" and when I looked down at my cat he was like this

crazy that there are lights that dance in the sky and mountains that spew hot molten rocks and reefs of coral and fish that span for miles and canyons deep enough to hold skyscrapers and people expect you to be happy just working your life away in the suburbs.

this picture is so funny to me divorced from context. i think more amusement centers should just remind you of your mortality

one thing I really like about my relationship with my boyfriend is that we can express negative feelings about each other's actions without assigning blame or requiring apology. I mean like for morally neutral things like "it drives me crazy when you leave a wet towel on the floor instead of hanging it up"

cause now like instead of "oh I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to drive you crazy, I'm terrible and unsocialized" or "um well that's dumb, who cares" it's like

"it does? I didn't know that. how come?"

"because it will mildew and I keep tripping over it and I don't know whether you intend to reuse that towel or whether it needs to go in the wash"

"okay so usually if I intend to reuse it I hang it up, and if it needs to go in the wash I drop it on the floor. I guess because I thought I shouldn't put it in the hamper because it would get all the other dirty clothes wet and then THEY might mildew before we do the laundry."

"that's valid. what if we have a specific place to hang wet towels that need to be washed? how about this one hook here"

"perfect!"

no hurt feelings, nobody being made to feel shitty and sloppy on one hand or uptight and bitchy in the other hand. just, we're partners right? let's workshop this

The poetry of the universe echoes endlessly around everything, etched into walls of chapels and doors of dungeons and light-seared into the backs of your eyes when you fall through the void. It's all in a language you can't understand and you aren't meant to learn, because if you did, you'd understand the terror of it. The wretched human soul that resides within your skin would cry out at the injustice of it.

The nether is not meant for you. Your blood boils and the sand you stand on cries out and grabs at your feet. It's just as lawless as the land above, but the evils of this world are as striking as a match. They do not shroud themselves in leaves and sea and earth, hiding from your human eyes. The nether is not meant for you.

But perhaps it wasn't meant for the creatures here, either. Perhaps the land turned them vile and bitter, instilled in them a taste for blood as red as the fire in which they were born.

You hold this creature in your hands now, one you found abandoned within the remains of its kind, and you can see the humanity in its withered white frame. The poetry that echoes around everything, that the universe is kind, and you are the universe itself. Within this creature is the part of yourself that aches to leave.

You can save a ghast and you can set it free.