So last night I dreamt that I slept with the Grim Reaper. And not as in “sleep is the cousin of death”, either. There was no bony hands or scythe — he was a fairly normal looking, quite hot guy, but he was also Death. (But not even Neil Gaiman’s Death, which would have made some sort of sense, although it would have been weird for Morpheus to have to watch?) And wow did we bang.
So, yeah, that was a thing. I bet a Freudian analyst would love to get their hands on this one.
"And still, after all this time, the Sun has never said to the Earth, “You owe me.” Look what happens with love like that. It lights up the sky."
Hafez (via livingasheth)
#okay but this kind seems like an unhealthy relationship to me?#like the sun keeps trying to pull the earth closer#but the earth keeps running away#kinda sideways#dodging as best as it can the sun’s dangerous affections#barely avoiding falling into the sun’s fiery grasp#and the sun might see this but it just keeps pulling and pulling and pulling#it’s like the ocean and the shore all over again
Nooooooo that’s not how it works at all!
Long ago the Earth and the Sun were nothing but particles; forged in the hearts of ancient stars, reborn from the ashes of their fiery deaths, a glittering cloud of chaos. There is an irresistible force that holds the universe together; it is gravity that draws together that disparate cloud of particles into the center, where they swirl, condense, and ignite into our Sun.
There is a very small region in which terrestrial planets like Earth can coalesce; outside this, only gas giants can form. Even smaller is the region which can support water, an atmosphere, life as we know it. All of this would be impossible without the presence of our Moon, a latecomer without whose serendipitous intervention we would be just another Venus — beautiful, but lifeless.
The Sun, the Earth, the Moon — all exist in a perfectly balanced dance. Our orbit is settled, and the Sun is not jealous or drawing — we lean in closer, we arc away, and the Sun burns brightly for us throughout, however elliptical our orbit.
We should not fear the warmth of the Sun; what we should fear is entropy, the sucking cold which will dim the nuclear fires at the Sun’s heart and leave our planet a cold and barren rock.
(Source: observando, via livingasheth)
So my beloved steed Lilith died on the road yesterday; bleeding out transmission fluid, she did her damnedest down to her last mile. If I weren’t already in the process of moving back in with my parents, I would be royally fucked; as it is, I have borrowed my mother’s car in order to get to work, and then finish hauling the rest of my belongings back to the suburbs.
I am on the floor amidst the debris of my possessions; stript of furniture, my formerly lovely little apartment is a maze of half-packed boxes and scattered belongings.
Lacking the mental space or energy to feel properly about … any of this, I am forced to be philosophical. Once again on the nadir of life’s wheel, I shan’t bother to repine; what’s the point? I will play loud music, put my hair in pigtails, and pack. The wheel will swing ‘round again, and I will ride the apex once more.
hey internet, it takes a lot out of me to ask for a huge favour like this, but I am in dire need of a place to stay asap — does anyone in NYC have a couch, a floor, &ct where you might be able to house me for a week or two? (several people, even, if it takes longer for me to scrape together enough money to pay some kind of sublet-type rent somewhere?) if you can help at all please message me privately I’m kind of at the end of my rope here and I’m. not un-scared. signal boots would also be appreciated.
I can cook, clean, declaim obscure trivia, and keep out of the way; I’m amenable to sleeping on a pile of blankets on the floor. I just need a roof. thank you so much if you can help me at all.
It is times like this I wish all big cities were connected, like the way all woods can become The Wood, and are thus intrinsically linked (and shutup I know reality isn’t really like that BUT IT IS IN MY HEAD BECAUSE DIANA WYNNE JONES SAID IT WAS) Because then you could come stay with me in Chicago (you’d get here via subway, obvy) and then poof back to NYC like it was no big, and we could have muffin baking competitions, and Willow could meet River and Rose, and it would be just amazing.
However, if you ever consider Chicago an option at all (I won’t blame you if you don’t, I love my city with an unceasing passion but even my loveblinded eyes will admit its not **NYC** and Chicago in Winter is just like an unhappy cat, all icy claws and snarling winds and staticy hair) you absolutely have a place on my couch, and I could actually get you a job at the store where I work like, immediately.
Barring teleportation or major moves, all I can offer is hugs and signal boots. (Which I know is a typo but which is so utterly charming I’m going to keep it forever.)
Orbital path of asteroid near miss in 2002. Yah, that’s how close we came to nuclear winter and possible total destruction.
It’s like it’s trying so hard to hit us and it just can’t do it
So, my New Year’s Resolution now is every time I see a shooting star I’m gonna wish “Please don’t hit us”
the satisfaction of ~returning emails and texts like a proper human~
…slowly crumbling under the impatience of waiting for a reply.