So You Know How Chuuya Has Punched A Hole Through Lovecraft But Hasn't Punched A Hole Through Dazai Yet

blue sky sunny day

Holds truth but I'd definitely want to see dazai break down irl too (not the author but ykk)

This has been a PSA.

No joke you guys NEED to get more comfortable blocking people. No more insulting people in public over different blorbo opinions no more making 2k long posts on how whatever ship you don't like shouldn't exist we've grown past that shit. Consistent posts about shit that make you uncomfortable? Block. Rancid blorbo opinions? Block. Is mildly annoying in your replies? Block. Pisses you off for reasons so petty you could never admit it publicly? Block. YOUR mental health will improve from not being upset 24/7, THEIR mental health will not be at risk of you lashing out because you happened to catch their posts on a bad day, and EVERYONE ELSE will benefit from not seeing the most embarrassing arguments known to man on their dash. "Oooh but they didn't deserve it-" dude you're presumably running a personal blog as a hobby not a public service. Who fucking cares.

WHO ELSE CANT WAIT FOR THE DAY I PICKED UP DAZAI

beauty standards are so fucked up what happened to i love your body because it's you. what then.

Devotion is nothing like mindlessly killing oneself with hopeless sentimentality. There is an immense difference. Devotion is to live a worthwhile life forever. Humanity is immortal only by relying on this pure devotion. However, there is no need to dress up for devotion. Today, I should offer everything as I am. The plowman should show devotion as the field hand with the plow. You cannot be an impostor. You’re not allowed to postpone devotion. Every moment of life must have devotion.

Dazai Osamu, Pandora’s Box

Haven't been on social media for so long that socialising became scary on here

These new Spotify updates are ASS. WHY CANT I HEART MY FAV SONGS THEY NEED LOVE TOO

...I still wait for someone. Who on earth am I waiting for? For what sort of person? Maybe what I’m waiting for isn’t a human. I dislike humans. No, I fear them. When I meet someone and indifferently exchange such greetings as ‘How are you?’ or ‘It’s become cold,’ greetings I don’t want to make, I somehow get the unpleasant feeling that there is no such horrible liar in the world as I, and I wish I were dead. Also, the other people, too, are unduly wary of me and use diplomatic speech which tries very hard to be harmless and inoffensive, and relate their pompous, false feelings. As I listen to it all, I find their petty cautiousness deplorable, and the world becomes more and more unbearably odious. Are ‘people in the world’, I wonder, creatures that spend their whole lives greeting each other in stiff, formal patterns, being cautious about each other, then growing tired of each other? I hate meeting people.

Dazai Osamu, “Waiting”