Death doesn’t let you say goodbye. 2 hour finale episode in the works. Tell your cluster.
oh.my.god.
Do you want Sense8 to be renewed? Read this!
Starting petitions and hashtags is great, but Netflix cares about numbers, statistics, and money since this season cost them approx. $109 million.
We don’t have much time. We need to move fast. Really fast.
Here’s what you need to do:
- If you don’t have a Netflix subscription, GET ONE! The 1st month is a free trial anyway.
- As soon as you get the subscription, WATCH SENSE8, even if it’s only playing in the background on mute.
- If you have a subscription and haven’t watched Sense8 yet. DO IT NOW!
- If you’ve already watched it a couple of times, ONE MORE TIME won’t hurt.
- If you know anyone who might be interested in watching Sense8, show them how to do it right. It has to be THROUGH NETFLIX, not free streaming sites.
We’re seriously running out of time. With the cast asking us to make noise, and posting absolutely nothing to comfort us, like Brian did with season 1 renewal, the odds are not looking good.
I’m talking we need to do this within 24 hours. If you think it’s not possible, think again. We can do anything we set our minds to do.
This is our chance to practically show the cast and the writers how much we love them and the show, not with a hashtag or a petition, but by actively doing something Netflix can’t say ‘No’ to.
If you love this show, fight for it.
Please, reblog so more people can see this. Thank you!
#RenewSense8 http://bit.ly/RenewS8
The Signs as Liminal Places
- Aries: A rock concert bathroom, the walls are shaking from the bass.
- Taurus: The White Castle drive-thru at night. The speaker is buzzing and no one is at the window. Your car lights aren't on anymore.
- Gemini: Under a bridge while it's raining. The cars are rumbling overhead almost as loud as the thunder. It's not cold.
- Cancer: The bedding section of a department store. Music doesn't make it this far, the only sound you hear is your hand running across a white duvet.
- Leo: Your living room at four a.m. The sun is trying to rise but the mist outside is too thick. Your television is on but the sound was turned off hours ago.
- Virgo: The first gas station on your personal road trip, a bell makes an unfamiliar ding as you walk in. There's nothing here that you need.
- Libra: After the last movie of the night. The lights are shutting off in odd places of the theatre and you're still holding your 3-D glasses.
- Scorpio: The door and window section at a hardware store. Old school music plays from far overhead making it muted but audible. The section checkout desk is empty.
- Sagittarius: A small town laundry mat that should've been shut down years ago. You can hear pool balls rolling on a table as the owner plays alone.
- Capricorn: A straight stretch on a road with no streetlights. You don't know how fast you're going and it doesn't matter-there hasn't been a soul in twenty miles.
- Aquarius: The small airport where you catch your connecting flight. Every now and then you hear the wheels of a suitcase skate across the laminate. It's bright in the terminal but you can feel the darkness of night seeping through the glass.
- Pisces: The brightly colored fun-center of Wal-mart. Every so many minutes a crane game begins playing on it's own.
The Signs as Liminal Places
- Aries: A rock concert bathroom, the walls are shaking from the bass.
- Taurus: The White Castle drive-thru at night. The speaker is buzzing and no one is at the window. Your car lights aren't on anymore.
- Gemini: Under a bridge while it's raining. The cars are rumbling overhead almost as loud as the thunder. It's not cold.
- Cancer: The bedding section of a department store. Music doesn't make it this far, the only sound you hear is your hand running across a white duvet.
- Leo: Your living room at four a.m. The sun is trying to rise but the mist outside is too thick. Your television is on but the sound was turned off hours ago.
- Virgo: The first gas station on your personal road trip, a bell makes an unfamiliar ding as you walk in. There's nothing here that you need.
- Libra: After the last movie of the night. The lights are shutting off in odd places of the theatre and you're still holding your 3-D glasses.
- Scorpio: The door and window section at a hardware store. Old school music plays from far overhead making it muted but audible. The section checkout desk is empty.
- Sagittarius: A small town laundry mat that should've been shut down years ago. You can hear pool balls rolling on a table as the owner plays alone.
- Capricorn: A straight stretch on a road with no streetlights. You don't know how fast you're going and it doesn't matter-there hasn't been a soul in twenty miles.
- Aquarius: The small airport where you catch your connecting flight. Every now and then you hear the wheels of a suitcase skate across the laminate. It's bright in the terminal but you can feel the darkness of night seeping through the glass.
- Pisces: The brightly colored fun-center of Wal-mart. Every so many minutes a crane game begins playing on it's own.
me: *catches myself being judgmental*
me to me: i did not raise u this way
You deserve to never have to guess how much you mean to somebody
