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Lrogueskiss.bsky.social

pjo é percy jackson, asoiaf é dos livros de game of thrones (a song of ice and fire) e st é stranger things

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MBlitabeck.bsky.social

I loooved the Night Agent! I’ve never watched Ginny and Georgia, but I have heard of it. Most of the popular Netflix things pop up in my recs — I’m guessing this person doesn’t get them because they only watch “prestige” television.

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KNenbykaiju.bsky.social

Not better, but trying Meds have all flopped, but I've got a few things I'm waiting on to see if they help One paw in front of the other

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Rrantlaw.bsky.social

That's not what makes it strange. You can find similar things on any Newsfax publication. It is strange because it does as much as it can to never challenge readers' assumptions on any topic. Other publications at least try to campaign on some things. That means going against the grain occasionally.

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JHjeremyhornik.bsky.social

*sniff* You're so right about that *wipes tear* AND SO WRONG ABOUT SOME OTHER THINGS

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Kklia.bsky.social

There are worse things to have stuck in your head.

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AJjinxe.bsky.social

"is it right to bug them with a hope things went well with your mom? Do they want me to bug them? What if things went bad? Are they going to feel like they have to respond?" Totally normal person.

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ABellipticalnight.bsky.social

Ghassan Zaqtan, from The Heroism of Things trans. Fady Joudah

2. 1Jao liy Log Siege We will remember all of them in our crammed days, and the road is the road and grief still comes when we grieve Who of us will fall asleep when the night glistens like a sword, who of us will forget? Every land has its people every time has its kin and the place is theirs and time for a summer now has been standing on our throats I swear by what binds them by their harmony and coalition Silence that kid don't let the land cry don't be afraid and remember their shadows we'll remember them all Our days are packed, the road is the road, grief still comes when we grieve, who of us will sleep, night glistens like a sword, Who will forget?
Khalil Zaqtan And I will bend down to smell his desire his tomb's flowers and marble his wilting joy his swapping temptation for content And I will keep him from the cold, visitors, oleander, and the sons of bitches and say: No one will resemble me like my father his white stumbling and the illusion that plucks words A shout that walks on two feeble legs eyes me with the summer of discontent and sprinkles me with water, turns me green before it shakes the bitter dirt off its fingers ... that's my father he cried from a darkness in the grave And I will gather the house of your chucked absence as if we were alone on Earth •.. you die so I can fold the falcon's wings after its departure and believe the silence that remains
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ACashcapes.bsky.social

Today will probably mostly be about John Bush-era 'Anthrax', by the looks of things :D

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