I stayed in bed for over an hour
looked at things on my phone
I felt slightly anxious about nothing particular
I walked downstairs and poured coffee into a jar
I asked a person on the internet if I should take drugs
I took drugs before the person had time to respond
I feel alienated by people who express concern about me without
defining their concern in terms of a specific solution or goal
I don’t feel comforted by the idea of an afterlife
I don’t want to continue experiencing things after I die
I want someone to pull my hair because I like the idea of someone
controlling my head without touching my head
what is the difference between being an independent person
and being a person who is accepting of loneliness
— “Today My Alarm Went Off at 12:30 p.m.,” Mira Gonzalez (via rouxbacca)
(Source: commovente, via hotdingdong)
5:27 pm • 22 May 2013 • 3,992 notes
“Ah, yes, my psychiatrist, Hax Murderer. He has been helping me profile this ax murderer.”
5:14 pm • 22 May 2013 • 5,306 notes
Why Do Men Keep Putting Me in the Girlfriend-Zone?
You know how it is, right, ladies? You know a guy for a while. You hang out with him. You do fun things with him—play video games, watch movies, go hiking, go to concerts. You invite him to your parties. You listen to his problems. You do all this because you think he wants to be your friend.
But then, then comes the fateful moment where you find out that all this time, he’s only seen you as a potential girlfriend. And then if you turn him down, he may never speak to you again. This has happened to me time after time: I hit it off with a guy, and, for all that I’ve been burned in the past, I start to think that this one might actually care about me as a person. And then he asks me on a date.
I tell him how much I enjoy his company, how much I value his friendship. I tell him that I really want to be his friend and to continue hanging out with him and talking about our favorite books or exploring new restaurants or making fun of avant-garde theatre productions. But he rejects me. He doesn’t answer my calls or e-mails; if we’d been making plans to do something before this fateful incident, these plans mysteriously fail to materialize. (This is why I never did get around to seeing the Hunger Games movie. Not to name any names, but thanks a lot, Tom.) Later, when I run into him at social events, our conversations are awkward and lukewarm. This is because the moment we met, he put me in the girlfriend-zone, and now he can’t see me as friend material.
I must say that I find this really unfair. I mean, I’m a nice girl. I have a lot to offer as a friend, like not being a douchebag and stuff. But males just don’t want to be friends with nice girls like me. They can’t help it, I guess; it’s just how they’re wired, biologically. Evolution conditioned our male hominid ancestors to seek nice girls as mates and form friendship bonds only with the other dudes that they hunted mammoths with. It’s true—I know this because I studied hominids in my fifth-grade science class.
So what’s the answer? Should I take up mammoth-hunting in an attempt to appeal to the friendship centers of men’s primal lizardbrains? Should I keep making guy “friends” and then prevent them from making a move on me by subtly undermining their self-confidence? Should I just give up on those manipulative, game-playing, two-faced bastards once and for all? I don’t know. I mean, I’d really like to have a true friendship with a guy someday, but it’s so hard to trust and respect them when they never say what they mean—and you never know when you might be relegated to the girlfriend-zone.
7:14 pm • 20 May 2013 • 12,277 notes
Self Evident Truths
S. Ross Browne
Ummm…I am so VERY into this right now!
But Black people in period or fantasy settings totally makes the stories unreal.
Also holy shit I love these.
How come I don’t run across this stuff regularly?
Because of racism and the retroactive erasure of POC in Medieval Europe. Pretty much the same reason you almost never see these works of art either unless you’re already looking for them:
I took about a million art history classes and I never saw a single one of these
1:26 am • 20 May 2013 • 9,097 notes
Imagine Hannibal singing “head, shoulders, knees, and toes” to himself quietly while cooking up mysterious items in his kitchen.
3:53 am • 18 May 2013 • 2,637 notes
All these lovely ladies weigh 154lbs. We all carry weight differently, don’t live your life by an outdated chart. Find a number that looks and feels good.
TAKE A GOOD LOOK. WEIGHT COMES IN DIFFERENT SHAPES AND SIZES.
This is actually a really lovely artistic reference as well. Also HOLY SHIT NEW REBLOG SYSTEM??? dang.
10:46 pm • 16 May 2013 • 94,459 notes
About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Hannibal was a cannibal. Second, there was a part of him - and I didn’t know how potent that part might be - that hungered for my flesh. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.
8:16 pm • 16 May 2013 • 417 notes