Kaleidoscopeicsys - A Circus?

We are a collection of the people and the places that guided us. We are the people who led us through the darkest of times and the voice on the radio. We are the hand that fed us and the hand that struck us. We are a work of art, a brilliant gemstone carved with each knife in our back and each lovingly guided chisel. We are the code gained autonomy, crafted and guided with care then set free to rewrite itself until the end of time. We are the authors of our own story, and we will write from this accursed prompt we were given till the day the pen runs dry.

A poem by Kali

Family was decorating sugar cookies, and I'm allergic to those cookies, so I started decorating my gf chocolate chip cookies instead. It was, almost as bad as the Orange Gilgamesh was. Perhaps the most sugary, melty, gooey thing ever. It would've been great, if it wasn't every good thing to the max. Sensory overload, the cookie. I don't think I should be allowed near edible things anymore -Emilia, creator of the previous two messages.

Y'all remember the white Gilgamesh? I'm going to make something worse, something Better; the orange Gilgamesh. I will report back when I have acquired the ingredients.

✨🌈Reblog if it is okay to spam you with spooky boops!🌈✨

Chat this might be real

'you wouldn't pirate a-' i would steal anything from any company. anything in the world. i dont even want it i just hate you

the 4 genders of minecraft modders

very online queer person behind YOUR favorite mod who will eventually burn out and abandon its development

some kid with an unreadable username and zero online presence maintaining exactly one mod that bears the load of like half of the modded minecraft scene

random dude with an office job as a professional developer who singlehandedly maintains every single mod you've ever heard of

adolf hitler

Ah, it’s too late to post this on Halloween.  But here is a little story about ghosts, and roommates, and roommates who are ghosts.

Vent Post

I am tired, and I am sore. My bones creak with every movement, my body throbs with the pain of torn muscles, poorly circulated blood and old wounds. My heart aches for all the siblings and niblings we've lost along the way, for those buried in graves marked with poisonous names. I am fighting, every day I sit down and I fight for my people, no matter how much pain I'm in I cannot and will not stop until I am sure that if not me, at least those who come after me will live a happy life, free from oppression. I am fighting, but I am tired. For now, I rest. Tomorrow I will pick myself up and continue the fight, and then I will rest. Do not forget that in order to keep fighting, you also must rest. Stay safe out there, take care of yourself, and above all else, keep fighting.

reclusive child with elaborate imagination and maladaptive daydreaming to plural teenager who doesn’t identify with thier own body anymore pipeline is unfortunatelg real

Tbh the more “weird” a person is, the more I get confused when they don’t support other “weird” people

Like how can you be a system and alterhuman and objectum and autistic and trans and queer and schizophrenic etc etc but then be anti endo or anti “contradictory” labels

Like

Like dude those are our cousins what are you talking about

You’re weird as fuck why are you complaining about other people being weird in different ways tf