Not being able to read is a strange sensation, and not one that I have frequently felt. I always thought sadness was the engine of thought, or creativity, or that unspecific need to search outside of oneself. Sadness, after all, underscores so much poetry and fiction, so much of what we hold up as canonical, so much of what in literature we believe to be true. And yet, for the first time in my...
The thing about patriarchy is that individual men, gay and straight, are often...– (via creepinthecellar) Emailed this to a man tonight (who was playing sports when I emailed it) with the subject line “THIS IS EXACTLY HOW IT FEELS SOMETIMES,” or similar. (via katecarraway)
WHEN PEOPLE I'M FRIENDS WITH ON FACEBOOK REPOST...
howdoiputthisgently: I’M JUST LIKE It’s why I do what I do. JUST KIDDING.
Did I ever mention that my roommate — the lovely one — makes her own bread, with her own yeast? She is supposed to be working with one of the bakers in this video, who will be moving to Toronto soon. The other day, she let the bread rise in the kitchen for 8 hours and it was the most delicious loaf of hers to date. (We each devoured half of a small loaf.)
I didn’t get to see my baby cousins this weekend because of work stuff, so I made them a silly little video cos they like to grab / play / blow on all my necklaces.
When someone plays you the original, you know they’re alright. (I once dreamt that I was squeezed into a cubbyhole of a party in Japan with this version streaming in and out of my REM state. There were shitty Christmas lights, of course.)