unsociallmothball
i lack the basic functioning skills of a normal human being
38 posts
Latest Posts by unsociallmothball
other things that have been censored on the cdc website by the trump administration are included but not limited to:
guidelines for prep
guide to taking patient sexual history
sti treatment guidelines
the CDC Youth Risk Behavior Survey Data Summary & Trends Report
a health education analysis tool
reports on queer youth
reports on substance abuse
a 2025 report on health equity for intersex people
intimate partner violence prevention resources
sexual violence violence prevention resources
a cdc national partner violence survey
again, all of those things are being archived here. you can read them and share them. in fact we should talk about them even more than we wouldve before- make this counterproductive for them
this is what it means to be human
Everything, Mary Oliver
The Breathing, Denise Levertov
A Prayer by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
The Laughing Heart by Charles Bukowski
Like a Small Café, That’s Love by Mahmoud Darwish (translated by Mohammad Shaheen)
Having a Coke with You by Frank O’Hara
Eating Together by Li-Young Lee
The Orange by Wendy Cope
The Quiet Machine, Ada Limón
To Go Mad, Paruyr Sevak
Our Beautiful Life When It’s Filled with Shrieks by Christopher Citro
Hammond B3 Organ Cistern, Gabrielle Calvocoressi
Peace XVIII, Khalil Gibran
Your Unripe Love, Paruyr Sevak (from “Anthology of Armenian poetry")
Here and Now by Peter Balakian
Ich finde dich (I find you) by Rainer Maria Rilke
The Thing Is by Ellen Bass
One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
Miss you. Would like to take a walk with you. by Gabrielle Calvocoressi
I Want to Write Something So Simply by Mary Oliver
What's Not to Love by Brendan Constantine
Where does such tenderness come from? by Marina Tsvetaeva
You Are Tired (I Think) by E. E. Cummings
Living With the News by W.S.Merwin
What the Living Do by Marie Howe
Bruh there's something comforting in knowing that no matter what I do or where I am, some part of me is always back here or back there with those characters and those stories that changed me, sometimes in small ways, sometimes in fundamental ways. And I know it's not real, but it's nice to imagine, to feel, that no matter what's going on with me, somewhere out there teenage boys in armor are chasing things that go bump in the night and two kids are experiencing a love story on the streets of New York and princesses and kings are sleeping underground while a group of friends are becoming family, orange cars are driving the streets, Spiderman is off to school, horses are being raised and raced by another love story on a faraway Celtic isle, and adventures are happening even if I'm not there to see them. But man is my heart out there with them
obsessed with mass market paperbacks. their pleasing rectangular proportions. how they fit badly in a hoodie pocket so you can drag them around everywhere with you like a temporary little buddy. the way they fit in your hand because they're MADE for human hands and not as bookshelf decoration. the way the pages feel when you riffle them gently with your thumb. How pristine and crisp they look when you get them and how creased and folded they look when you're done, even if you try to be nice to them. how that wear is okay, how that's correct actually, because they're made with the philosophy that books aren't meant to be PRETTY, they're meant to be read. that little ripple new ones get on the left side from where you hold them when you're reading, the way the ripple only goes as far as you've read, because u change stories by reading as they are changing you. how you can find thousands of these creased and folded and loved little dudes in every thrift store and used book shop and neighborhood library and you can instantly see the ones that someone carried around in a backpack for weeks or read to pieces or gave up on halfway through because they wear being read like fresh snow wears footprints. I love these poorly made, subpar little rectangles so much. truly the people's books.
friends
I like how the only times I go on tumblr is to recover from books that mentally destroyed me
me: *finishes a book*
me: it's time to go on tumblr and reblog every post about the book
someone tell the grandma to put the sword down
approximation does not sound like what it means and it makes me angry
like, it sounds like it should mean something like precise
but it doesn’t
it’s a deceiver
idk broskis i think aglamation sounds better than amalgamation even if it’s not a word
my tumblr isn't even a blog, it's just a hideous amalgamation of all my hyperfixations from the last decade.
i’m at my bridge and i’m ready to burn it
learning multiple different languages just for the sake of trying to lay my thoughts bare
why do all the words sound heavier in my native language? scratch that. why did I choose to seek refuge in a language of another instead of training my tongue to bear the heaviness of my own?
dear author of my life,
respectively, what the actual fuck
currently...
Life is always better when everyone else is asleep so I can be a complete lunatic and not worry about getting caught
I read. Obsessively. Because, when I read, there is purpose to my loneliness.
my kindle watching me unload the five books i bought today 👁👄👁
me buying more books because the ebooks i download “don’t count”
whoever is writing my life has got mad writers block bc wtf am i doing
Someone better tell me my beauty never ever scared them or I’m suing
I'm once again fighting the urge to fake my death and move to a small city and open a little florist shop or cafe filled with books
thinking about libraries genuinely makes me want to cry. like that is the pinnacle of humanity right there. we love learning things for their own sake, and we want you to learn it too, in a quiet little place so you can build your own world. the only thing missing is a soup kitchen
the fact that is impossible for me, in one life, to study classical studies, archaeology, international relations, all the literature in the world, get a languages degree in italian, german, greek, latin, russian and french; learn how to play the violin and also piano, cello, guitar and the flute; learn how to sing, both modern singing and classical singing/opera; is my villain origin story.
Sometimes I read so I don’t have to be stuck inside my mind with my thoughts, sometimes I read when I feel burnt out and feel like giving up and letting go of everything, sometimes I read when I feel like the world is against me and there’s no one I can rely on so I escape to a different world instead. But mostly I read because of the stories I can relate to, to the happiness, sadness, and struggles of people who exist only on paper and in my imagination.
I hope you find your voice and that it echos to the edge of the universe. If you think it cannot reach that far, I hope you let it try.
Ok fine, I’ll make one of these too
Please interact:
lgbtq+ people, aspiring marine biologists, people who have pins on their backpack, tired people, dog people, bookworms, bakers, folks who don’t own boats, canadians, people who wear bucket hats, anyone that doesn’t live in wyoming, those with niche interests, people that do theatre, mutuals (<3), embroiderers, artists, people that had an obsession with egyptian gods at some point, atheists, people who put the Hamilton playlist on shuffle, cool folks
Walker being casted as Percy is literally the best decision they did, i love that kid 😭💞
gonna start decomposing soon for so many reasons
reblog to decompose
you know you want to