estufar

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trasno-personal:

makaeru:

funnytwittertweets:

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Related: at a neuroscience conference I was at once there was a talk on how the “microslippages” against your fingertip when you lightly pinch something are generally enough for you to work out exactly how much force to grip it with to lift it without crushing it or dropping it.

[ID/A tweet by Cliff 🦖 [dinosaur emoji] Jerrison (@ pervocracy) saying “one of the most amazing things a human brain can do is when you shake an opaque bottle and get an idea of how full it is by how the weight shifts. there’s got to be incredible math going on under the hood there” /End ID]

midwestmothman:

Being in your twenties is just

Have I eaten today? Do I have autism? I want a new job. Am I dehydrated? God, I want top surgery so bad. Where’s my birth certificate? Oh it’s nice out today! Should I get high tonight? I’m so hungry. I’m so sad. Do my friends hate me? I need a nap. I’d be so much hotter without tits.

evilwizard:

oh i can’t fucking believe this. the gods—they smote me. just smited me out of the blue. i’ve been smit. they gave me absolutely no warning before smating me. smoted my guts all over the place. with thunderbolts and everything. absolutely smurted me

chaumas-deactivated20230115:

chaumas-deactivated20230115:

chaumas-deactivated20230115:

Had a dream that I was reading a book called The Tiger, about a living city that slowly digested its inhabitants. The title annoyed me because the city was clearly not an ambush predator, but a passive hunter like a jellyfish or sundew. No one knew they were being digested—life in the city just wore them down little by little, and fate always seemed to conspire to keep them there. The book was ambiguous about whether the forces of economic instability and social injustice were supernatural qualities “the tiger” generated to subdue prey or natural occurrences that had attracted “the tiger” to settle in that city as its hunting ground.

wait fuck this was an ABBA dream wasn’t it

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The concept of a hard-hitting surreal political horror novel based on an ABBA song is great. Thank you brain keep up the good work.

arachnixe:

When are they gonna invent the HRT that gives me scales and gills, anyway?

I’ve been patient. I’ve been gracious. I haven’t turned to black magic or dangerous mad science. But maybe that’s the problem, isn’t it? I’ll never achieve my dreams if I play by their rules.