Rabbit Mayor is still missing









Have you seen Rabbit Mayor?


a thing i wrote while high

if i never sleep i can never die,
whispers the part of me that takes over when I’m broken and alone. Eyes like an animal’s, heart pumping seratonin instead of proper aeration, not that I give a damn. Tremble like a leaf on a hot summer wind, dropped from the host with no reason to land. Pain is a thing of the past; society has moved on, or I have at least, and what matters but euphoria? How can you feel bad with powdered and scheduled joy in your gut, how can you ever want to come down? Questions are the default and suddenly I don’t even care for answers, because when I use I am untouchable and deadly. Femme? No, but fatale for sure, a hazard to myself and others, a honey trap that doesn’t even bother hiding. I will impale myself on whatever the hell i want, thanks; it’s a free country (says you anyway; i don’t believe it for a second but who doesn’t like to turn arguments on their head?) and my head is a fucking pantheon. My mind is lightning and thunder, my bones are carbon and steel, alloyed lovingly with spider silk. My heart is my temple, come and worship, come and drink my kool-aid. Fire is the force that lifted us from primordial ooze, and fire is what courses through me when I whisper in your ear, too fucking late to save me. Too late to be disappointed babe, I’m in the fucking zone—or is the zone in me? I’m a deity. Sixty now, but eighty tomorrow, or more? Milligrams of nectar and ambrosia replace the cheap gas station lighters, replace any food i thought I needed—life is overrated, anyway. People exist to transform—chemical and physical reactions? I missed that unit, darling, let’s study your notes, between sheets (of paper? ha) and secrets we’ll learn enough to pass each other’s final, oh, but not enough to get the hell out. Get out of trouble before the frying pan melts into the fire and takes the forest with it.

I will regret this, yes, but they say to not regret what you once wanted. And dear god, have i wanted this.



aidosaur:

Several weeks back, I mused on Twitter that I was considering buying $100 of Thor: The Mighty Avenger to give away because I consider it to be one of the stellar examples of what superhero comics could and should be.

And then $100 of books kind of made it into my Amazon cart.

oops

So…

Hi! I’m Zoe and I want to read these because, well, I’ve never really been able to get into anything you might call a superhero comic. I love webcomics, sure, but print stuff has always been either too expensive (the Flight books, for example) or seemed too dumb, gory, sexist etc. for me. However I really enjoy your comics, and I trust your taste! So I figured I’d enter this… i guess you’d call it a giveaway? If I won, I totally promise to make my brother read it, and theoretically my friends, despite their lack of interest in this kind of storytelling, haha. Anyways, thanks so much! I think it’s great that you’re doing this.


"Ice-cream is exquisite.
What a pity it isn’t illegal."
—  Voltaire (via vvolare)

placebokatz:

Anxiety x Beethy
thekuratorr

blogut:

The Cardigans | Lovefool

from First Band on the Moon (1996)


icarusing:

I constantly feel like people don’t actually like me or want to spend time with me but do it because they feel guilty or obligated to or something because why would anyone want to be friends with me I just don’t understand


jtotheizzoe:

Viewing the world through the senses of those who experience synesthesia, the crossover of sensory experiences.

A truly mind-bending video by futureshorts.

(via sketchlock)


1 in 5 teens had thought about suicide, about 1 in 6 teens had made plans for suicide, and more than 1 in 12 teens had attempted suicide in the last year. As many as 8 out of 10 teens who commit suicide try to ask for help in some way before committing suicide. Reblog if you’re always there to listen.

604x778xstfu:

damn.

(Source: angelsandanch0rs, via princessinaforgottenfairytale-d)


"We value love not because it’s stronger than death but because it’s weaker. Say what you want about love, death will finish it. You will not go on loving in the grave, not in any physical way that will at all resemble love as we know it on Earth. The perishable nature of love is what gives love its profound importance in our lives. If it were endless, if it were on tap, love wouldn’t hit us the way it does."
—  Jeffrey Eugenides, My Mistress’s Sparrow is Dead (via serialnegligence)

(Source: sweetandsassy-sauce, via raruraru)



louis-vuitomlinson:

toocooltobehipster:

well that was unexpected

(via princekarkat)


inkblotoftheday:

Inkblot #201
Instructions: Tell me what you see.
Note: Makeup blot from yesterday.
-Enjoy


pregnant alien goddess? man i think i’ve got issues

princekarkat:

for the record my sexuality is ??!?!?? and my romantic orientation is :(


podling:

city-stained:

kay-mama:

lol omg please.

going on bucket list. omg. 

if i played this i would slip over then break a limb and/or get a brain hemorrhage