Howling Timber Wolf By: Karl H. Maslowski From: The Order Of Wolves 1976

I know it’s not hard to point out reactionaries hypocrisy when it comes to like safe spaces or hug boxes or whatever but genuinely how much of an echo chamber do you have to exist in for you to think this is a reasonable thing to say

Swallowed by the fog

Hope isn't ethereal, soft, and gentle. It's not naive or blind and it's not a passive state.

Hope has dirt behind its nails and blood all over its face, as all seems lost - but it's still getting up for another go, if only to protect just one more person.

Hope works its fingers to the bone to make the slightest difference. You may fall for its easygoing masks but it's hilt is heavy and to wield it is one hell of a workout.

Hope exists despite suffering. It knows the oppressive darkness intimately; yet stubborn as a mule, that's where it sees stars shine the brightest.

Hope doesn't wear rose-colored glasses. It can only envision a better tomorrow because it knows exactly how fucked up the today is; without ignoring problems of the present, it simply prefers to look towards the future.

Hope can be afraid but it doesn't cower; facing its fears head-on, it claws its way out of any pit life dug for it.

Hope can be stained, dirtied by the world around it. There can be no glory or recognition found within it - and still it doesn't cease bending over backwards in the name of its ideals.

Hope sees potential where there's good intentions. Whether someone has been a victim or a perpetrator, it wishes to support a path to change and breaking free from past cycles; because the option of growth proves that nothing has to stay horrible.

Above all, hope is a daily choice, made against all odds - to keep living, toiling, trying. It's often mundane, it takes small steps; and yes, it really does take time.

Hope smiles in the face of hardship and sees past the temporary. It's seeks to be constructive rather than destroy; its paths may not be the smoothest but it trusts they lead towards a bright-lit aim.

Hope is complicated. And yet, don't we kind of need it?

when your dog is asleep next to you and you reach over and pet them and they do a little stretch and get cozier reblog if you agree

Franz Kafka, 1912

☀️

|Commission design, not for use|

stretches my legs out so far with all toes spread out wide

“Fyp” we don’t do that here. I mean, Tumblr the app and website tries, but we don't do that here.

“But then how will anyone see it?” peer review.

“How do you get engagement?” by talking and engaging with other people. Or making a devastating typo. Either way.

“But—” Listen, you’re not doing solo stand up anymore. This is a group improv class being held in a SAW dungeon. Good luck.