“The Trees Cry Out As They Die, But You Cannot Hear Them. I Lie Here. I Listen To The Pain Of The Forest

concept: Faebook 

When I was in high school I managed to get myself haunted by this really helpful passive aggressive ghost. I’ll elaborate: one of the times I lost my phone, which was on silent, I started panicking and I asked my friend Jessie who was with me if she’d seen my phone anywhere, and at that moment the ghost threw it across the room with enough force to dent my wall.

I still think about that ghost anytime I loose my phone. If you’re out there reading this, please come back; I can’t find any of my shit.

Just tried to play an ancient flute and it started filling the room with this awful miasma that wont go away

How long has your physical form been residing on earth?

i’m just a tourist

Salem the cat from Sabrina the Teenage Witch

Salem was sentenced by the Witch's Council to spend 100 years as a cat, as punishment for trying to take over the world.

And he’ll be dammed if he ain’t gonna be a sarcastic attention whore the entire time

I like the idea of witches familiars being monstrous beasts that witches have trapped in the bodies of small animals. They can no longer wreck havoc on villages for fun or whatever monsters do, so they just sit there being a convenient source of magical power and acting grumpy about it

hey so being autistic is a defining part of my personality and identity. most of the good and interesting things in my life stem from that. and most of my friends are autistic or neurodivergent, and are my friends because we’re neurodivergent and have cool things in common. I like myself, and my life, and the people in it, and i’m getting damned tired of seeing our mental divergences portrayed as innately negative and scary. being autistic means we face unique challenges and deserve respectful accommodations, full stop. Our lives are full and very much worth living, thanks

love to purchase items but at what cost

I laughed so loud someone asked if I was okay

This reminds me of the time my old roommate asked me to cut an apple for the dish he was making and the absolute, utter disappointment in his eyes when he looked over and saw me cutting it with a fillet knife.

He did most of the cooking after that because apparently I “couldn’t be trusted with basic tasks” or whatever.

This

nothing brings me more joy than repeatedly doing a bit that my mother dislikes