My elaboration of the story always conforms to the reality at its source. It is always close to the world, the life, the reality it describes. No matter where I go, I’m still holding up a mirror. -Gustaw Herling (via theparisreview)
People are rivers, always ready to move from one state of being into another. It is not fair, to treat people as if they are finished beings. Everyone is always becoming and unbecoming. -Kathleen Winter, Annabel (via honeyednothings)
I was searching for “cute mugs” on ebay and one of the suggested searches was “kawaii mugs.”
Do people really use those search terms.
Bitcoin Kingpin Admits Everyone's Money Is Gone
IM HYPERVENTILATING HOLY FUCKKKKKK
"Don’t worry, FDIC insurance has you covered. Oh wait. Shit. Fuck. Shit. I’m gonna get fucking murdered in my sleep fuck shit jesus’s asshole I am so fucking fucked"
The “Bitcoin Kingpin” looks exactly how I would imagine a kingpin of imaginary nerd money would look
March 4, 2013
I was unpacking when I heard you walk in. I had on light pink lipstick that I found at the bottom of a box. You put a few things on the counter and handed me my car keys. I kissed you and asked if you could help me move the bed. You said you needed to talk. I keep replaying this over and over in my mind. I don’t think I’ll be able to unpack the rest of our boxes.
April 4, 2013
It’s been a month since you left.
Mark says you’re not coming back.
I can’t sleep.
Are you awake?
May 4, 2013
I finally went to the doctor like you had begged me to.
You were right and yeah, I’ll be fine.
June 4, 2013
I sold my engagement ring at a pawn shop today. I bought expensive lipstick and flowers. I also bought a lot of beer and a carton of cigarettes. I’ve lost a lot weight since you last saw me. My friends from high school that I haven’t seen in years hardly recognize me. It’s weird being back in this town without you. I spend most of my afternoons at the beach. I saw a sea turtle today while I was swimming. I miss eating breakfast food at midnight with you.
July 4, 2013
I stumbled across the video of you in the car singing Taylor Swift. I deleted it before it played all the way through but I have to admit it made me laugh. I can’t remember how your voice sounds saying my name. I broke down and called you. Thank you for not answering.
August 4, 2013
I dropped my cigarette in my lap when you drove past me today.
September 4, 2013
I went on a date.
He thinks Bud Light is “quality beer”.
It just isn’t going to work out.
October 4, 2013
It doesn’t hurt anymore to say your name.
November 4, 2013
Hope you’re doing well.
December 12, 2013
Thank you for setting me free.
March 4, 2014
It has been a year. I heard you moved to Baltimore. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me but I hope it’s that I’m happy. I hope you’ve heard from our friends that they often see me sitting in the sun, laughing with my hair in a braid, collecting seashells and running straight into the ocean with no fear. -These short letters are straight from my notebook, unedited and carelessly written - d.a.h
March 4th. Today marks one year.
March 4, 2014
I heard you moved to Baltimore. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me but I hope it’s that I’m happy. I hope you’ve heard from our friends that they often see me sitting in the sun, laughing with my hair in a braid, collecting seashells and running straight into the ocean with no fear. (via whisperingbones)
IT’S ABOUT BUYING HOMES IN NUDIST COLONIES AND IT IS WORTH WATCHING JUST FOR THE CAMERA ANGLES
how long did it take you to line that shot up
ANYWAYS IT’S A LAUGH AND A HALF 10/10 WOULD RECOMMEND IF YOU ARE FEELING DOWN
When you are hurting, there will always be people who find a way to make it about themselves. If you break your wrist, they’ll complain about a sprained ankle. If you are sad, they’re sadder. If you’re asking for help, they’ll demand more attention.
Here is a fact: I was in a hospital and sobbing into my palms when a woman approached me and asked why I was making so much noise and I managed to stutter that my best friend shot himself in the head and now he was 100% certified dead and she made this little grunt and had the nerve to tell me, “Well now you made me sad.”
When you get angry, there are going to be people who ask you to shut up and sit down, and they’re not going to do it nicely. Theirs are the faces that turn bright red before you have a chance to finish your sentence. They won’t ask you to explain yourself. They’ll be mad that you’re mad and that will be their whole reason alone.
Here is a fact: I was in an alleyway a few weeks ago, stroking my friend’s back as she vomited fourteen tequila shots. “I hate men,” she wheezed as her sides heaved, “I hate all of them.”
I braided her hair so it wouldn’t get caught in the mess. I didn’t correct her and reply that she does in fact love her father and her little brother too, that there are strangers she has yet to meet that will be better for her than any of her shitty ex-boyfriends, that half of our group of friends identifies as male - I could hear each of her bruises in those words and I didn’t ask her to soften the blow when she was trying to buff them out of her skin. She doesn’t hate all men. She never did.
She had the misfortune to be overheard by a drunk guy in an ill-fitting suit, a boy trying to look like a man and leering down my dress as he stormed towards us. “Fuck you, lady,” he said, “Fuck you. Not all men are evil, you know.”
“Thanks,” I told him dryly, pulling on her hand, trying to get her inside again, “See you.”
He followed us. Wouldn’t stop shouting. How dare she get mad. How dare she was hurting. “It’s hard for me too!” he yowled after us. “With fuckers like you, how’s a guy supposed to live?”
Here’s a fact: my father is Cuban and my genes repeat his. Once one of my teachers looked at my heritage and said, “Your skin doesn’t look dirty enough to be a Mexican.”
When my cheeks grew pink and my tongue dried up, someone else in the classroom stood up. “You can’t say that,” he said, “That’s fucking racist. We could report you for that.”
Our teacher turned vicious. “You wanna fail this class? Go ahead. Report me. I was joking. It’s my word against yours. I hate kids like you. You think you’ve got all the power - you don’t. I do.”
Later that kid and I became close friends and we skipped class to do anything else and the two of us were lying on our backs staring up at the sky and as we talked about that moment, he sighed, “I hate white people.” His girlfriend is white and so is his mom. I reached out until my fingers were resting in the warmth of his palm.
He spoke up each time our teacher said something shitty. He failed the class. I stayed silent. I got the A but I wish that I didn’t.
Here is a fact: I think gender is a social construct and people that want to tell others what defines it just haven’t done their homework. I personally happen to have the luck of the draw and am the same gender as my sex, which basically just means society leaves me alone about this one particular thing.
Until I met Alex, who said he hated cis people. My throat closed up. I’m not good at confrontation. I avoided him because I didn’t want to bother him.
One day I was going on a walk and I found him behind our school, bleeding out of the side of his mouth. The only thing I really know is how to patch people up. He winced when the antibacterial cream went across his new wounds. “I hate cis people,” he said weakly.
I looked at him and pushed his hair back from his head. “I understand why you do.”
Here is a fact: anger is a secondary emotion. Anger is how people stop themselves from hurting. Anger is how people stop themselves by empathizing.
It is easy for the drunken man to be mad at my friend. If he says “Hey, fuck you, lady,” he doesn’t have to worry about what’s so wrong about men.
It’s easy for my teacher to fail the kids who speak up. If we’re just smart-ass students, it’s not his fault we fuck up.
It’s easy for me to hate Alex for labeling me as dangerous when I’ve never hurt someone a day in my life. But I’m safe in my skin and his life is at risk just by going to the bathroom. I understand why he says things like that. I finally do.
There’s a difference between the spread of hatred and the frustration of people who are hurting. The thing is, when you are broken, there will always be someone who says “I’m worse, stop talking.” There will always be people who are mad you’re trying to steal the attention. There will always be people who get mad at the same time as you do - they hate being challenged. It changes the rules.
I say I hate all Mondays but my sister was born on one and she’s the greatest joy I have ever known. I say I hate brown but it’s really just the word and how it turns your mouth down - the colour is my hair and my eyes and my favorite sweater. I say I hate pineapple but I still try it again every Easter, just to see if it stings less this year. It’s okay to be sad when you hear someone generalize a group you’re in. But instead of assuming they’re evil and filled with hatred, maybe ask them why they think that way - who knows, you might just end up with a new and kind friend.-By telling the oppressed that their anger is unjustified, you allow the oppression to continue. I know it’s hard to stay calm. I know it’s scary. But you’re coming from the safe place and they aren’t. Just please … Try to be more understanding. /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)
LIKE I’VE BEEN SAYIN THIS SINCE FOREVER
You attract the right things when you have a sense of who you are. -Amy Poehler (via myko-nos)
the best thing about this picture is that the more you look at it the worse it gets
im going to get strong muscles so i can carry the animals out of sea world and put them back in the ocean