david harbour getting married EXTREMELY out of nowhere officiated by an elvis impersonator and then getting in n out in their wedding clothes is like. i truly could not ask for anything more from my bipolar king
honestly imagine being mary shelley. its the fucking early 1800s. we’re barely out of the era when people thought women reading novels would lead to like debauchery and premarital sex. the weather is just fucking bonkers in yonkers. everybodys clothes looked like they oughta weigh two hundred pounds. everyones goth but goth isnt a thing yet so they dont even know it. your kids are dying. your husbands dead. your friends are all probably doing coke. your doctor is also both doing and maybe prescribing coke. no electricity. people are out there just staring into the void and having clandestine affairs in graveyards or some shit just because theres nothing else to do. and whats that? youve just written frankenstein. girl what the fuck even–
today is mary shelley’s birthday. honor her legacy by looking at the completely bonkers shit happening all around you and just saying well might as well fuck around and invent an entirely new literary genre
i get annoyed with people yeah there is no shame in admitting that everyone does but i will never fall into this deep hole that is misanthropy. i will never depend on individualism, i actually loathe it. i love people. i will continue on being annoyed and i will complain and i will get sad but i will always love people and i will love and i do love being a human being. i mean if someone asked me hey would you want to be a cow for a day i would say fuck yeah i would love to be a cow or any animal for that matter… but you know what i mean
