kneeling down beside my bed and folding my hands and closing my eyes: dear god please let me have some gay sex soon and also maybe let me win the lottery so i never have to get a job again. okay goodbye i mean amen
honestly it’s actually the small, mundane, boring things that someone does for you out of love which mean so much rather than grand gestures and proclamations
free, florence and the machine / tumblr user @jediheretic / road to hell (reprise), hadestown
[Image descriptions in order: lyrics that read “Is this how it is?/Is this how it’s always been?/To exist in the face of suffering and death/And somehow keep singing?”]
[tumblr post which reads “I love when tragedies are like quote “the love was there. It didn’t change anything. It didn’t save anyone. There were just too many forces against it. But it still matters that the love was there” unquote”.]
[lyrics which read “To know how it ends/And still begin to sing it again/As if it might turn out this time”.]
fiction is like im going to totally make up a guy and we’re going to get emotional about their plight and their grief and their joy and this is because we are human
REBLOG IF YOU’RE ENDING 1881 SINGLE AND IN LOVE WITH YOUR NEW FLATMATE AND WITH AN INEXPLICABLE SENSE OF CERTAINTY THAT YOU WILL BE IN GAY HELL FOR OVER A CENTURY!!!
sometimes i think about the golden record and i want to cry
there is a disk. it is 12 inches in diameter, it is made of copper, plated with gold. there is an inscription— “To the makers of music – all worlds, all times” on its surface. it lies on the space probe, Voyager 1, launched in 1977, to explore interstellar space beyond our solar system.
it contains human existence.
116 images— the sun, the location of our solar system, mathematical and physical unit definitions, and our planets, including a blue and swirling white sphere simply labelled “Home.” it contains images of human dna, of our atoms, their structure, the way they divide, our anatomy, our conception, our birth.
it does not contain an image of war. nor of disease, nor poverty, nor crime, religion, or ideology.
it does contain a father looking lovingly at his daughter. it does contain the picture of a tree toad in a gentle hand, of a woman eating a grape at a supermarket.
the remainder of the disk is audio. a 90-minute selection of music from all over the world, sounds, and greetings. there are greetings in 55 different languages, one akkadian, spoken in sumer about six thousand years ago, and one wu, a modern chinese dialect. the greetings call out to a friend. it wishes them well. it asks them if they have eaten yet.
but it contains other sounds too. it holds the sound of rain, of thunder, of a volcano and an earthquake. it holds the sound of mud pots and trains. it holds the sound of a mother kissing her child.
with little to erode it in space, the golden record would probably outlast all human creation. it will be 40,000 years before it approaches another planetary system. if it does, it cannot find intelligent life. intelligent life will have to find it, retrieve it from where it floats silent and small through space. we still don’t know if they would understand it.
in 7.5 billion years, the evolution of the sun would burn the earth up, and we would not exist any longer, but the voyager would fly on, bearing a memory.
bearing a disk with a little inscription etched by hand on its surface.
