are lovely, but when communication on one end suddenly ceases and they’re left incomplete, the proceedings may as well be left to chance. And ijf fully-grown plans rarely survive first engagements with the enemy, what chance does the fetal version have against the realm of possibility?
for some reason i seem to be struggling to string...
you’ve been warned..
in case anyone else missed this lesson at summer...
working yourself into a frenzied knot because unexpected traffic is making you late won’t actually make the cars ahead of you speed up. it also probably won’t help whatever you’re late for be a success, either. doesn’t belated self-awareness feel great?
The tragedy of menstruation
shitmystudentswrite: Aristotle would uniterruptedly tell everyone what theatre and tragedy was: catharsis which is a term that can be tied in with tragedy (crying, having your period etc) is a term that Aristotle had come up with and firmly believed in. dying.
There’s a large part of me that’s four years old. I wake up in the morning and I...– Newt Gingrich, evidently.
For those eyes a thing didn’t need to be present; they contained it inside them.– Rilke, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge (via mythologyofblue)
seriouslyflippant replied to your post: initiating positivity rockets I have to worry more than you do because after I sing this horrific soundtrack to a silent film of questionable integrity, I have to sing a much prettier piece for which my voice will feel like I’ve swallowed razor blades. i bow before thee. may the adulatory masses be a balm for heart and voix. you’ll have my horsey...
initiating positivity rockets
say it with me: whatever form of “you can do it” suits you best. choices include “Git’er dun” You can do it!!! We can do it! I can do it! Affirmation! Because why not. Please just go do your thing and shut up about it. This isn’t a pretty reblog! I feel cheated. I have more to worry about than you do because BLANK Don’t fuck it up (a la RuPaul). ...
Perhaps a creature of so much ingenuity and deep memory is almost bound to grow...– Loren Eiseley. Another polished stone pulled from the Whiskey River. (via crashinglybeautiful)
The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances:...– Carl Jung (via girlwithoutwings)
seriouslyflippant: Bottom Two: Latrice Royale & Dida Ritz Lip Synch Song: “I’ve Got to Use My Imagination” Performed by Gladys Knight & the Pips Latrice lets the words flow through her. She doesn’t NEED to win so much as she NEEDS to make us understand this song; which, by the way, is why she was not eliminated. Dida, love her as I do, was playing to win only. In any other...
To my followers: why are you here?
If you’re here to coo over and reblog the pretty pictures I post (most of which are reblogs), then please be honest with yourself about it, at the very least. And be honest with ME about it, if you have a modicum of respect for me even as a stranger. If I am a stranger to you, the fault, for once, is hardly mine. If you’re here because you appreciate or identify with the text posts I...
WIGGLE YOUR TUMBLR NAME(S) AROUND. →
schubertiade: Its Debaucher. Hm. Mine yielded nothing spectacular; perhaps yours will?
mythologyofblue: Tonight I think no poetry will serve -Adrienne Rich (armenotti)
What my body wants, my body gets
and last night/this morning, it requested almost twelve hours of sleep. my classes today will survive my absence, as will my grades. yesterday was one of those dread-filled “am I coming down with something?” days, so fingers are crossed that i’ve fended it off.
seriouslyflippant-deactivated20 asked: Have you ever found it prudent at all to repost these things? Have you ever gotten anything from it?!?!?
Reblog if you want "have you ever" asks.
seriouslyflippant: Tuesday, bitches. Love begets love. Asks beget asks. Let’s have some fun!
We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may...– May Sarton (via moreofamore)
I will own my insecurities.
provokingnaught: I will own my insecurities. I will own my insecurities. I will own my insecurities. reblogging for support of all types.
devouring a sushi feast makes me feel carnivorous...
the first eighteen years of my life don’t have a clue what they missed. a moment of silence, if you would, please.
You are not who you think you are. This is just a temporary package that you’ve...– RuPaul (via wewantrevolutiongirlstylenow) Love you, Ru.
in which i (barely) survive being stranded
at school for six hours sans phone, food, water, and a hefty project over which I slaved into the wee small hours of the morning only to forget it at home. turns out it’s not due till next week (sorry, body and mind..I owe you at least four hours of sleep. you’ll remind me in a few days, I’m sure.) it was an unsavory experience, going without anything to do with my hands and...
this is the part
where I settle down with my tea, put my third assignment piece on repeat, and complete the pile of paperwork for it in such a way that it doesn’t appear to have been done at the last minute. which it won’t have been; there’s still over twelve hours until class starts. in other news: Norwegian is a more complicated language than i thought it was when i chose this piece.
SALLY (to DON): Have a happy birthday.
DON: Thank you, Sals.
BOBBY: How old are you gonna be?
DON: Forty. So when you're 40, how old will I be?
BOBBY: You'll be dead.
THIS SHOW. Dying.