Remembering - Tumblr Posts
The ensemble of musical instruments that collectively constitute jazz are capable of influencing one another to achieve a collective peak performance.
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The mutual play of rocking upwards is as impressively beautiful as it is confusing.
The allusions to jazz in The Simpsons are a source of great enjoyment.
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John Coltrane Quartet - Naima / Live In Comblain-La-Tour 1965
Personnel:
John Coltrane - tenor saxophone
McCoy Tyner - piano
Jimmy Garrison - double bass
Elvin Jones - drums
Carlo Acutis Sticker
I think these are beautiful stickers for my class. I want to buy them asap. I would encourage anyone who needs extra protection when surfing on the daily web to get one and place it on your laptop, phone or other other internet device, to help keep your soul safe from any influence out there. I've had my fair share experience of running into wickedness on socials. It's sad, it truly is. But I also recall that it was Carlo who had reached out in spirit back in 2020 to uplift me when I'd see posts of him by others on remaining close to Jesus. I even recorded the moment on Instagram. I had a bit of synchronicity with some of his pictures along with other positive messages, but I don't have them anymore dismissing them as coincidences. But now I see, it's not so much a coincidence anymore. Jesus reaches out! Don't miss out!
Carlo Acutis will be canonized in 2025 but there is no exact date set yet.
And if you are like me you go through the book again to go over you absolute favs of the book and then write a mental fanfiction in your head about it and then type up an actual fanfiction about the book AND finally read everyone else's fanfics that are based on the book.
do you know when you read a book that’s just so well written that when you finish it you can’t help but just sit there in silence for a few minutes just thinking about it, and then you reread the last couple pages, and just close the book and kind of stroke the cover in a weird sort of way and just keep thinking because it leaves such a strong impression on you that it just kinda haunts you in the back of your mind for the next few days
Ada Limón, from Bright Dead Things; “Some place like montana”
Dark Corekai: Rho
does anyone remember this guy from the episode Toxsa 2.0?
and how he -to an extent- was more a lot competent then Granox and how he -unintentionally, on his and Granox part- showed to Vilius just where the boys live: Earth. and I just wished that they made him more than just a villain for that episode and actually made him an actual villain . What about you guys would anyone of you want him back?
Here's my LMK OC Inkmoon variation reminiscing on all the friendships she had with other LMK OCs (ALL OTHER OCS DON'T BELONG TO ME BUT BELONG TO FRIENDS)
A reminder that the majority of us don't watch the show on places that would make any sort of money for the show.
in regards to the LMK S5 trailer
I'm actually a trustworthy person but I either don't understand what they say or don't give a shit because it's either dumb or not that big of a deal so I forget it
But in general I do tend to forget alot of important shit so I don't have trouble accidentally spilling secrets I can't even remember that's why I'm basically a human confessional
So I'm either like this
Or this
love being trusted with “you cant tell anyone this” conversations and nodding a lot and forgetting everything they told me like god intended and going down as a trustworthy individual while doing literally zero work of ill or good
“Alan Turing ended his own life on June 7, 1954. He bit into an apple laced with cyanide and ate a bite of it. He did it because the British government chemically castrated him, humiliated him, and prosecuted him for being gay. For that reason there is a bitten apple in the Apple logo… In honor of Alan Turing. He invented computer science and using his early designs cracked the Enigma code - the encrypted machine that the Nazis and the German Army used to communicate secret commands to each other during world war - thereby saving millions of human lives and bringing us to the modern computer age. Pride month isn’t just about dancing on floats in gold shorts and waving a rainbow flag. It is about remembering that everyone has the right to be happy, to love who they want to love and to recognize the outstanding contribution that everyone can make in a society free of fear or prejudice.”
Vía: Alejandro Jodorowsky/Samira HM
[Thanks Paul Corby]
Love me after I leave (I'll be in your memory)
You know who truly loves you when you're about to walk away and they grab your hand one last time to remind you your worth
Loving doesnt mean you wont hurt someone
Loving means you do what you can to ease their pain...
even letting them go.
I hope this eases your pain, whoever, wherever you are. Love, Mercury.
One year ago today, you crossed the rainbow bridge. And I still miss you.
A Not So Little Night Musing
Joan snuggled closer to Tom’s chest, easing herself into a more comfortable position while making sure not to wake him. She thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of lying beside him, just his bare skin against hers in the dark, still but for the sound of their still slightly ragged breathing. Tom was spent and had quickly fallen deeply asleep, though not forgetting to encircle her in his arms; the cosy little spoon. His chin rested just above her head, and the hairs on his shins tickled her feet. She turned to kiss him once more, and moved the fringe of her bob out of her eyes before settling down. She took care not to focus too much on the evening’s events, lest the savour keep her from sleeping. Still, it had been wonderful she thought to herself, stretching in contentment. After a little too much wine at the restaurant they had ambled five minutes late to the theatre. Apparently those few had been pivotal to the plot, as neither of them had been able to make head nor tail of the story, which only served to make it funnier for the tipsy couple. There had been quite a few stares in response to their sniggers when one of the heroines was murdered. The bus ride home had been all a rush, and the effort of walking had left her memory a little vague. Joan could, however, recall vividly the passion of the last hour. She felt a tingle and cursed quietly under her breath. She had told herself not to do this again. Too late now… she put one finger, and then another, into her already surprisingly damp slit, and began to curl them heavily but slowly, still conscious of her boyfriend sleeping beside her. She wouldn’t give Tom the satisfaction of knowing she was masturbating to him.
Keeping her breathing low, she slowly shifted her elbow out from under his arm. She watched him as she slowly rotated her forearm, all the while still stroking her inside, and gently sucked on her fingers. She shook her head to rest her curls behind an ebony shoulder. Her libido loomed with lewd thoughts, making shrewdness difficult. Her breathing increased - she couldn’t help it, and she closed her eyes as she imagined she was sucking Tom’s thick, juicy cock. She curled her toes at the sensation as her feet brushed the ends of his. It had been so wild, and they still hadn’t even moved the bed back against the wall. It was shoved up against the dresser, the better for Tom to push against the wall with his feet while the bed and her cunt were trapped and his for the taking. Beads of sweat slowly trickled down her, pooling in the burgeon of her dark cleavage. He was so hard, and as his muscles strained, pushing him further and further into her, he grunted like some ravenous animal, his blood pumping – all into his dick, which seemed to get bigger and bigger and harder and harder by the second. Her hand now moved down from within one set of lips to just above another, wetter and slicker, and the fingers began to rub her already engorged clit. She craned her neck back, her head beside his on the pillow. She imagined his cock becoming erect, and spread her fingers a little in simulation which felt surprisingly good. Joan was shivering slightly, straining not to move, as Tom behind her lay, his heavy arm across her. As she breathed her chest rose and fell, her nipples brushing between his fingers a little more with each rapid rise and fall, lifting Tom’s arm with greater and greater force. Despite how furiously Tom pumped, his stamina had not lessened, and continued fucking her, sliding his dick out and shoving it back in with an alacrity and reckless abandon she could only ever have fantasised about before… as she did again now, her fingers moving more quickly inside and out of her between her crossed legs, her upper calves nestled beside his feet. She began to give little intermittent bucks, unable to stop herself from moving, as much as she did not want to wake the sleeper beside her. She had had to make him stop, it was too much. He thought he was hurting her, and when he pulled out, concern on his face, she had bowled him over and seized his manhood. Oh God, was she being too loud? She had then determinedly started to blow him, her hands working over his junk to enhance the pleasure, and unexpectedly found that he had had even more to give, his dick growing harder and more augmented, stretching her jaw to aching as she tongued and moved her head back and forth ferociously. She bit her lip and to hold back a moan She planned to make this cock hers, and she was so hungry… He could scarcely concentrate on her tits, and though they strained for his touch his inability to do even that was a turn on in itself. His hand now rested on the breast closest too him, and her nipple practically pulsed beside the twin peak of his thumb. When she could suck no more and was forced to admit defeat, she released him and watched as his hips continued to convulse in the air, before she ordered him back inside her and to fuck her until she broke or he came. Joan had never before let Tom come in her. She was never sure why, though she had made several excuses before. They weren’t unfounded, of course she didn’t want to get pregnant, and when they were first dating she wanted him to get checked out just in case. However, they had taken every precaution, and whatever was left of those small inhibitions was blown to incinerating oblivion by a single, aching, urgent need. The bed felt uncomfortable, and there just didn’t seem to be room for subterfuge when you were so horny. She felt a wave of pleasure overcome her as she worked a little faster, and fell to the sensation. Her dark locks tickled her sultry, flaring hips, and she shivered, flaring Tom several inches to the other side of the bed. She wanted him, wanted him inside her, wanted him to fill her, to fill her up. She wanted to finally feel his cock swell, harder and bigger than she had ever felt before and explode inside her. Her moans became louder as he began thrusting again, her legs around him, drawing every delicious inch of him into her like a vice. She was absorbed by the fantasy, and only a shred of propriety kept any attempt at silence. Her chest surged, muscle memory piqued from Tom’s unintentional caresses, and pressed out further. Considering how much he was clearly turned on by her urging – a mantra of dirty talk, gasping that she wanted him to come for her, to fill her up with his hot seed, that she wanted to feel him get enormous as he blew his load into her, and every other dirty term that came to her he actually took longer than she expected. Her rubbing now reached a frantic speed and she let out soft whimpers as she felt waves of pleasure begin to course through her. She did not stop, and neither did her growth as her feet slipped off the end of the bed and hung above the floor. Neither had he stopped then. His pounding ministrations made her feel like she would go off at any second, but she held herself back from the edge, and all the while her pleasure mounted, higher and higher, ready to break over her like a cataclysm. She could feel something similar happening from inside his member. Her hand pressed a forcefully against the head of the bed, and a quiet splintering could be heard creaking. He pushed more forcefully than before, and her pussy somehow continued to take his entire, still-swelling trunk that seemed be trying to split her in two, more eagerly still than before. Every push of his was getting them closer and closer to a finale, but she didn’t know if she could hold out. Her ass bucked on the mattress, filling out along with the rest of her curves. She was becoming more of a giant hourglass by the second, and was completely unaware, even at this accelerated stage of her expansion. Even now, as her fingers twirled, curled, pulled, and tugged, she wondered if she would get to the end of the memory. She allowed her breathing to increase, and her chest rubbed up and down beneath Tom’s hand, which was again upon her breast after the last bit of growth, faster than before, pleasuring her nipples. Her eyes were still shut and her mouth was open, crying out almost silently as she played with herself in horny, hot desperation. Her back arched, gargantuan, and she felt her juices gush out of her, wetting the sheet below her. Tom stirred, and the nervous excitement of almost waking him did nothing but heighten her ecstasy. Oh, it felt so good she thought she thought as she unconsciously continued to stretch, well past nine feet. Even now, she could still recall the moment… It was going to happen, she could feel it. She couldn’t get any wetter, she surely couldn’t take any more. Yet still it held off, and moments stretched, like the sides of her sex, as ever more of this mammoth creature continued to force itself upon and into her. Then he bit down hard on to her nipple, and she cried out in pleasure, but then her scream reached new heights as she felt him finally explode inside her. It was indescribable, it felt so good. Most of her legs were hanging off the bed, and her left arm was no longer on the bed, but still she continued to fuck herself. She felt so tight, he felt so big, huge, gigantic, as the head of his penis expanded and fired wad after wad in a seemingly endless torrent of hot, white cum inside her. A sudden spasm sent her into the twelve foot mark. After a moment, she realised it was still going and time had not in fact stood still, and this cannon-like python was still spewing more and more into her. He really was doing it – filling her. She felt a rush from inside her meeting his as she too came for all she was worth. She was close now, so very close, as she arched her back towards the room ceiling, her efforts at subtlety almost shredded like the tattered nightgown strewn beneath her as the thrill coursed through her entire body, pushing outwards. It wouldn’t end, and she kept on crying out in pleasure- Stretch …it felt so exquisite, so magical, until she felt the- A throaty moan escaped her, and she clamped her hand over her mouth, brushing the ceiling with her hand …hot liquid began to spill down her legs as there seemed to be no more room in her cunt. She squealed and he groaned, both shuddering in ecstasy that was overcoming. She felt it now, almost upon her. She loomed, huge enough to be sitting along the entire length of the bed, her lower thighs and legs hanging off the edge and her shoulders touching the ceiling. Tom had pushed and pushed, driven on in a spasm of primordial instinct, till he had no more to give and beyond, thrusting into her splashing wet cunt. Even now the bed was getting really soaked for a second time, and for the first time it occurred to her that her own juices were rapidly seeping closer to him, whom she was unaware but was now lying prostrate on her. He rolled, and his arm tugged her fingers jostling her out of rhythm. Her hands scrabbled to get back into place and resume their work, but she was too sensitive and too clumsy with the shock to properly do anything. She could not stop, it wasn’t enough. She moved, pushing Tom’s legs apart and pressing his whole dick into her mouth. Hardness overcame him, and they both opened their eyes.
Figmentary Feelings - Adam Stanheight / Reader
A/N Another one of Melanie Martinez’s songs, called Haunted, inspired this. Omg, I think I need help with this addiction.
Spirals spun in the walls, the air smelled smokey, the atmosphere was crisp, and the scenery was foggy. You sat in Adam’s apartment dazedly, not fully awake, and tried to solve the crossword puzzle that was displayed on your phone. You had found three words.
It had been a month since you had gotten proper sleep. Tiredness tugged at your eyes, but you kept them open. You didn’t want to sleep, but you were lucky; you couldn’t sleep - not anymore.
Adam Faulkner Stanheight was supposed to come home four weeks ago. The newspapers had announced him dead two weeks ago, but you didn’t want to believe it. Adam’s belongings were still situated in their proper places, it was as if he was still here. There couldn’t have been a way that he wasn’t ALIVE anymore. You refused to believe it.
But alas, four weeks was a long time. Adam still hadn’t come home, something that occurs when a person dies, the evidence couldn’t have been more clear.
You ignored the bright lights flashing in your eyes, or the ringing in your ears, and focused on finding the next word. It was ‘lightbulb,’ and you discovered this after about twenty failed attempts.
You put the phone in your pocket. You had a visitor coming over today. You didn’t know who it was, the landlady only said you had someone coming over. You wondered why the said ‘visitor’ hadn’t given you a heads up on their supposed arrival.
You got to your feet numbly. Immediately you spotted the black couch in the living room, and your heart sank low. You could remember when you would watch horror movies with Adam on Friday nights. You could remember when you would come home and find Adam smoking a cigarette after a shitty day ATTEMPTING to take good pictures of his clients but his camera’s lens had been dusty or misty, making it difficult. This was a common case.
There were also the moments when you would find yourselves laughing and joking with one another on the couch. Sometimes it would lead to tickling, other times it would lead to making-out. The mood decided it.
You turned harshly, hearing Adam’s voice in your ears. You flinched, but you could hear his words so clearly, so… real. You groaned in agony. “I love you.” But your words were met with silence.
You turned around and made for the kitchen, but this was also a bad idea. Adam’s presence was here, too. You could sense him standing by the oven, leaning on it with his back, and gazing at you while you tied an apron around your waist and walked over. There were many times when you would bake together. Adam had never liked cooking or baking but he seemed to have fun when he was with you.
Usually you made pies or cakes, but sometimes you would make dinner together. Those were the best nights. It was always inspired by the thought that you would play a game together. You had plenty of cards and boards in the gaming cabinet, it was more thrilling to cook dinner together first though. It helped to ripen the mood.
Right now you swore you could almost smell a baking pumpkin pie, but you knew that couldn’t be true. The oven was off, and you hadn’t gone to the store in at least two weeks.
You left the kitchen then, hurriedly, and headed for the bedroom. It was dark, and though most of your time spent here was sleeping, you still got a lot of memories. Memories you would have preferred to have left untouched. This was not because they were bad memories. In fact every memory you had with Adam was beautiful, even the bad ones, but that only spelled out the problem. You didn’t want to remember them because they were good, way too fucking good. And you couldn’t stand that.
The first thing that came to your mind was the time when you got locked out of the bedroom. The lights were off, and all you had was the sunlight shining in from the living room window. It was bright enough, but now that you thought of it, why hadn’t you turned on the lights? In the end, you ended up having to take the door off its hinges because you couldn’t find the key. But because neither of you could reach the last hinge on the top, you had to stand on Adam’s shoulders and use the screwdriver to undo it. You had felt really unsteady in that moment. The noise the door made when it fell to the floor was so loud, it was memorable. You shuttered.
You stumbled forward a little as a barrage of more images went through your mind. They were different from the last one. All of them were of Adam sitting patiently for you on the bed. Either he was sitting or laying but in some way or another there was something quite risque about his positioning. You grit your teeth hard, trying not to feel…
Well that was just it. You didn’t want to feel. You were trying not to. The statement was fine as it was, but… what you had been thinking was more like: ‘I don’t want to feel sad anymore.’
Both sentences were true.
Those weren’t the only things you recalled. You could still see Adam by the dresser as he picked out a dress for you to wear. And you could see him reaching for his camera on the bedside table.
He was staying up all night with you when you couldn’t sleep.
He was holding you tightly as you cried into his shoulder in the dark.
He was stroking your hair after a long, late, night.
He was pushing you to the mattress very dominantly - it wouldn’t have lasted very long though.
He was kissing you.
He was caressing you.
He was making you feel something, you know the kind.
And he was touching you, feeling you.
Your eyes stretched wide at the recollections. You backed away tensely, not even glancing at the master bathroom, and slammed the door closed. You were cursed to feel Adam’s hands and mouth on your body. Desperately, but failingly, you tried to ignore it.
You ran out the door, but it felt wrong. It was like Adam was still inside calling you to come back. And you clasped your hands together tightly. What the hell were you still doing here? You should have left long ago, like your therapist had told you.
You began to make moving plans. Hopefully you would be out of here by next week.
I’m sorry, Adam. I’m leaving you here. But just know that I will always love you. I would never stop. I just… need to get away from here, you thought miserably. It was about time you moved out anyway.
You got into the car and started driving. All you needed was some fresh air, and a long drive with the windows down. This was your escape.
When Adam had been with you he had always insisted on driving. But you hadn’t seen his car since he went missing. You only had yours now.
You connected your phone to the blue-tooth speaker. Your car speakers had died a long time ago, so you had bought a blue-tooth speaker. It worked well enough but it wasn’t like the car speakers, unfortunately.
You shuffled the playlist, and let it play. You didn’t have the energy to care about listening to your favorite songs first; whatever song played, played.
This was one of those times. The first song that played was a song you had forgotten about. It was Melanie Martinez’s song, “Haunted,” and you listened to it intently. Your heartbeat started hammering anxiously once you heard the lyrics again. It made you feel cold on the inside, and a little bit daunted by the real world. You wanted to crawl into your bed and feel nothing ever again.
This song was depressing! You realized it morbidly as the lyrics started.
“I could pull the sheets over my head and never get out of this bed. But what would that do?”
You rounded a corner quickly, but not too sharply.
“I avoid all mirrors ‘cause I’m scared to look into my eyes when I only see you.”
You inhaled painfully.
“It’s like you're always creeping on the walls and in my feelings. All those stories about ghosts are really true.”
You slammed on the brakes suddenly as the light changed red. You didn’t know where you were going.
“I put one foot in front of the other, in front of the other.”
You gazed around. There were people walking with their families on the sidewalks, there were cars with people laughing in them, there were stores with happy customers, there were children waiting at the bus stop together. But your life seemed so excruciatingly low right now, you didn’t even know how to comprehend it.
“Slowly, I turn every corner, turn every corner. Even when you’re nowhere in the room, I’m haunted by you.”
You tried not to relate, but the deeper meaning was too pressuring.
“I light all my candles, light all my candles. The darkness is too hard to handle, too hard to handle.”
You were losing your mind, listening to this. What the fuck, this song hit way too close to home, you needed out of here.
“Sleeping is just something I can’t do. I’m haunted by you.”
You were crying by the time the light turned green.
“I can hear your talking in the distance, your persistence is so cruel. And all your words pull at my feet and I fall back in love with you.”
Your hands trembling, you crashed them against the dashboard, thrashing and searching for the volume. You found it and twisted it violently to the right. The music got louder, and you screamed in shock. You could feel Adam’s arms around you still as you tried to breathe. Honking erupted from behind you, and other drivers started going around. You fumbled with the volume again, after your shock had worn away, and turned it off completely. That was enough for today. Now it was time to go home, and try to get some sleep.
You made a U-Turn at the intersection, and drove home in the silence. Your heart was the only sound you could hear, or even concentrate on. It was so loud you thought everyone could hear it.
Once safely inside the apartment, you grabbed a blanket, and a hot cider, and laid down on the couch. You had made it about a quarter of the way through your cider when you rested your head on the pillow. It was soft and squishy, and perfect. The spirals in your vision disappeared finally, and the atmosphere warmed up. Your mind was getting the sleep it needed at last.
Hopefully in the morning you’d be able to round the corner to the bathroom without getting lost in memory lane. That was something you had yet to accomplish, but right now you had achieved sleeping. Your therapist would be thrilled.
Just for a Little While
Just for a Little While
I was born in 1995, and I have spent my 25th year of existence during the onset of the 2020 pandemic. I have heard of the quarter-life crisis before, but I never did expect that I would be experiencing it while the world is in literal viral chaos. I have been in isolation before, but this imposed an unrelenting imposition of both internal and external turmoil. This, in turn, has given me an…
