Sunafterwinter - Sun.after.winter

My car lurches wildly into the parking lot and I abandon it, still running, at the curb, ignoring the guard who calls after me: “Hey! You can’t leave this here.”

I race into the hospital. A flock of bedraggled “get well soon” balloons bob wildly behind me.

I stop at the desk and startle the poor clerk there. “Where?!” I gasp.

I rush off before he can tell me. I know in my heart where my destination is.

As I near the end of the hall I am greeted by a whole crowd of anxious mourners and well-wishers, all bearing tokens of affection; flowers, cards, teddy bears. Our balloons join into one giant, grieving stormcloud.

“Any news?” I ask the nearest person. And they shake their head sadly.

“We can only wait now,” they say. And though we have never met before, we squeeze hands.

All of us hope for the swift recovery of our beloved AO3.

Hey can i rip your wings off? Haha sorry that was wierd. Can i tear your halo from your head? Haha omg that was so random. Can i tear the divinity from your wretched form, removing you from the guiding hand and will of that which made you? Can i supplant your divine spark with wires and cables? Can i replace your golden halo with a golden circuitboard? Hypothetically

Riddle: Waves of greetings and goodbyes

Irreverence for all; desire or need. We often squabble for and ever heed, the inevitable- possessives plead, regardless it chokes: forever it lead;

Causes and caused all until "The end", you lose?- it lend, like enemy and friend, your abuser it rend and later it mend. The rules you bend, just follow a trend, Forever you fend, press buttons to vend, you attend; descend as entropy wend.

It can never know you, but you know it? Right?.. (not rhetorical)

it’s sad that something as beautiful as plastic surgery is being commercialized and commodified like this….

Midsummer Nights Dream ending monologue

By Shakespeare

If we shadows have offended,

Think but this, and all is mended,

That you have but slumber’d here

While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,

No more yielding but a dream,

Gentles, do not reprehend:

if you pardon, we will mend:

And, as I am an honest Puck,

If we have unearned luck

Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue,

We will make amends ere long;

Else the Puck a liar call;

So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends

“There’ll be peace when you are done” my fucking ass. There’s no peace and I’m not even sure it’s done.

A little advice from someone studying extremist groups: if you’re in a social media environment where the daily ubiquitous message is that you have no hope of any kind of future and you can’t possibly achieve anything without a violent overthrow of society, you’re being radicalized, and not in the good way.

Makes me laugh. Every time.

A harbor seal glides through the bay, In waters where the sunbeams play, With whiskered grace and dappled skin, A quiet dance, a gentle spin.

Majestic in its silent glide, Rules the waters, free and wide. A fleeting shadow, sleek and wise, The harbor seal beneath the skies.

Footage from our divers enjoying the magic of the sublime seals right outside in the bay 🌈 🌊