Light Green Pointer banana splits
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Hi people! thank you for visiting my blog! my name is hannah but you can call me nanner

~previously known as dragontamer4~

When you RP with people and their posts are like fucking Shakespeare and yours are basically I CAN COUNT TO POTATO

Myers Briggs By Superpowers

readingontheroof:

INFJ: Visions of the future
ESTP: Superhuman strength
INTJ: Immortality
ESFP: Ability to freeze time
INFP: Literary manipulation
ESTJ: Power negation
INTP: Omniscience
ESFJ: Healing powers
ISFJ: Visions of the past
ENTP: Dimensional travel
ISTJ: Photographic memory
ENFP: Reality warping
ISFP: Shape shifting
ENTJ: Mind control
ISTP: Invulnerability
ENFJ: Empathic powers

annieleonhardt:

boys who hate bright lipsticks because “itll get all over them” fail to realize it will come nowhere near them

calm-thy-cannabis:

Awe little cats going on a little cat date walk ahh

calm-thy-cannabis:

Awe little cats going on a little cat date walk ahh

kimbras:

sadvaporwavebabe:

reminder to call your pets by their proper pronouns! use petself/dogself/catself/hamsterself etc because they are not able to communicate their preferred gender and pronouns thank you this has been a psa uwu

image

Animals literally have no concept of preferred gender pronouns or even pronouns in general. Remember that personification is a literary device and is not by any means meant for literal application.

"

Someone once told me that the saddest four words someone could string together were “I’m used to it,” but because the moment tasted too much like bicycle chains and not enough like laugh tracks, I made some offhand comment and everyone smiled.

I have been thinking about that since the moment it happened and how evolution has shaped the way we exist, how we are only the adaptions that our grandparents fought to handle for us, how my children might carry the same thick skin and frozen heart as the one that I do. I have been thinking about how many things we are used to and how many things we have had to grow used to throughout the ages, I have been thinking about the ways which I have adapted to fit into a jungle I never wanted to run in.

I have been thinking of what I am used to. In the back of a train when a man copped a feel I was as used to the grasp of his fingers as if I had always known the span of his palm. He was as familiar to me as a longterm lover and he whispered words in my ear with a kind of intimacy that I expect at weddings. I am used to it. I am used to every person who will take this body for granted. I am used to the expectation that my art gallery is open for the public or that to see it is to have to touch it.

I am used to it. I am used to how people will look at the scars and then glance quickly away as if they are made uncomfortable by the questions hanging in the air between us. I am used to how their eyes dart anywhere else as if they are expecting me to unzip at their feet if we exchange eye contact. I am used to the invisibility cloak I have painted onto my skin as if razorblades were just steel thread. I’m used to not being asked about it.

I am used to slurs, to being a joke, to requests for threesomes. For a little bit, I admit I even thought that statements like “that’s hot” in regards to my sexuality - I used to take these as compliments rather than blanks in a shotgun: I still flinch even if it doesn’t actually kill me because I know all it takes is for you to reload with the right ammunition. I am used to what I will hear if I try to explain myself to you. I have stopped trying.

I have thought about how we have adapted. I have thought about how girls have invented claws from keys, how sad teens can withstand long sleeves in high heat, how those of us who are different have long ago learned exactly what words to search for in a person’s speech so we know whether or not you’re going to be our friend or our bully. I have thought about how when I enter a new room, my shoulders rise up like skyscrapers as if I am expecting a knife through my jugular. I have thought about how when I am hurting, I never let all of the pain show because I’m afraid of letting other people see me vulnerable. I have thought about how last night all of my friends went to a party without me and even though I was asked after, I still didn’t go because I was terrified of the possibility of what could happen if I did show.

I have thought about our evolution, how I have my grandmother’s shaky hands and my mother’s sad brain and my father’s addiction. I have thought about dna and nature and how we have all shaped ourselves to survive in a hostile environment. I have thought about the kids who cannot conform or those of us who have lost ourselves while trying. I have thought of the things that have killed me.

I don’t know if it makes me sad. I think I’m just used to it, see?

"
I want to be happy because I survived but somewhere along my emotions all died. /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)

carlhagelins:

have u ever had your opinion of someone change so fast you were disgusted you liked them ever at all

gentledom:

A wonderful analogy.

scruffyfrank:

monoclesandtentacles:

having depression is not an excuse to be an asshole

having depression is not an excuse to be an asshole

having depression is not an excuse to be an asshole

HAVING DEPRESSION IS NOT AN EXCUSE TO BE AN ASSHOLE AND GUILT TRIP PEOPLE INTO THINGS OR TO SAY YOU HAVE IT WORSE THAN SOMEBODY WHEN THEY’RE HAVING A BAD DAY BECAUSE GUESS WHAT, YOU DON’T HAVE A SPECIAL SNOWFLAKE PASS THAT MEANS EVERYONE HAS TO PAY ATTENTION TO YOU AND YOU ONLY 

it’s emotional abuse

lohvleelunatic:

phibbnewton:

scoot scoot scoot

Look at this cute little fucker go

lohvleelunatic:

phibbnewton:

scoot scoot scoot

Look at this cute little fucker go

naninoojo:

n0t-quite-n0rmal:

kyungfucker:

datrhodie:

Dedicated to all te children who were most likely born from 1995-2003 who spent all their money on the cute cuddley webkinz.
Our vengence has finally come!

you have got to be shitting me good lord jesus

Time to build another mansion

THIS IS BULLSHIT BECAUSE I HAD 58 OF THESE FUCKS DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MONEY I SPENT AS A 6 YEAR OLD THEY WERE LIKE 9-20 BUCKS FUCK 

lizzorasaurus:

see the problem with finding a single bug in your room is that you constantly think there a are bugs every where

slight breeze blows by? thats a bug
foot is itchy? bug.
speck of dust on the floor? yep. a bug.
lint on your pillow? DEFINITELY A BUG

sherlock-awa-holmes:

Just to clarify 

sherlock-awa-holmes:

Just to clarify 

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