This Is Not A Poemas Much As It Is A Reminderthat Its Okay If Today Feels Just Like Another Dayand Not

this is not a poem as much as it is a reminder that it’s okay if today feels just like another day and not the special event everyone makes it out to be it’s okay if you have to search for festive feelings and it’s okay if you turn up finding nothing sometimes we can’t force it, or fake it til we make it sometimes we have to just let ourselves feel what we feel instead of pretending because pretending is so exhausting and if there’s anything you should do right now, it’s rest release the weight of this past year off of your shoulders and allow yourself to just exist without the pressure of being merry if there’s one gift you deserve it’s the freedom to feel however you feel

(cc, 2022)

REMINDER TO THE TWITTER REGUGEES THAT TUMBLR IS AN INTERACTIVE SITE.

See how your dashboard is covered in posts? Yeah, that's because people reblogged them. Reblog posts. Reblog artwork and gifsets and text posts. If you like a post, reblog it.

"Oh but I'm nervous about social interaction" reblogging isn't social interaction. It's not. It's adding things to a virtual scrapbook by yeeting the additions into a swirling vortex. No interaction necessary. Someone makes a post you like, you reblog it, that's it. Job done. Zero interaction, but a post has made it one step further in finding its way to people that might enjoy it.

Reblog stuff. For fucks sake.

i wish loving someone as “more than” a friend wasn’t limited to romantic implications  because i do love you as so much more than a just friend there aren’t words to adequately say just how much you mean to me how important you are to me how lost i’d be without you just “friends” is nowhere near enough you are my family you are my home you are mine

(cc, 2019)

Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.

It is a glory and a privilege

To love what Death doesn’t touch