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soft gorl

@gentlebirdy

i would fight for you, if you would fight for me
Studies suggest How may I help you officer? is the single most disarming thing to say and not What’s the problem? Studies suggest it’s best the help reply My pleasure and not No problem. Studies suggest it’s best not to mention problem in front of power even to say there is none. Gloria Steinem says women lose power as they age and yet the loudest voice in my head is my mother. Studies show the mother we have in mind isn’t the mother that exists. Mine says: What the fuck are you crying for? Studies show the baby monkey will pick the fake monkey with fake fur over the furless wire monkey with milk, without contest. Studies show to negate something is to think it anyway. I’m not sad. I’m not sad. Studies recommend regular expressions of gratitude and internal check-ins. Enough, the wire mother says. History is a kind of study. History says we forgave the executioner. Before we mopped the blood we asked: Lord Judge, have I executed well? Studies suggest yes. What the fuck are you crying for, officer? the wire mother teaches me to say, while studies suggest Solmaz, have you thanked your executioner today?

Solmaz Sharif, “Social Skills Training,” published in Buzzfeed

““There had been periods in his twenties when he would look at his friends and feel such a pure, deep contentment that he would wish the world around them would simply cease, that none of them would have to move from that moment, when everything was in equilibrium and his affection for them was perfect.””

— Hanya Yanagihara, A Litte Life (via wnine)

Oh, to be a teenager in a private school in the 1960’s, learning Latin and wearing pretty white shirts, reading Walt Whitman and Catcher in the Rye for the first time, and starting to question everything your parents ever taught you about the values of literature and poetry

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you have to unlearn social cues to be a lush employee

Lush employee once asked if i wanted to sample some soap. I said sure, thinking id smell it or she’d let me wash my hands with it or something. She takes me by the arm and leads me to a sink. And fucking washes my entire arm. Up to the shoulder. I short circuited from how bold and intimate that was. It was my first time in a Lush, as i was an edgy mall rat in my teens so they wouldn’t let me in growing up. I had no idea of the intricate rituals that take place there.

As opposed to that quote about “the horrifying ordeal of being known,” do y’all ever feel so positively UNKNOWN and UNSEEN that it frightens you? Like there’s a self that you feel on the inside, and you believe to be “you,” but it seems like nobody else sees that version of you? And they’re interacting with someone that isn’t you but a projection of their experience of you? What’s more, perhaps nobody will ever know your true essence and you will die without ever being fully realized????? I’m only two beers in honestly

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there’s a misconception that grief only happens when we lose people. this is not true. we can grieve circumstances, relationships, missed opportunities. in fact, sometimes when you find yourself plagued with waves of emotion from sadness to melancholy you may be grieving yourself. the version of yourself that you might have been if things had been different, or if only you had said something, or if someone had stood up for you.

I CANT GET OVER THE LECTURES MY HISTORY PROFESSOR RECORDED FOR US, HIS DAUGHTER KEEPS WALKING IN ITS SO FUCKING FUNNY & ADORABLE???

him: so, every president since FDR has done this, but-
her: walks in with a barbie doll
him: oh, hi, what's up?
her: fairy barbie is flying in
him: oh, okay - i'm doing a lecture right now though, so could fairy barbie fly-
her: show them fairy barbie
him: sighs.
him: okay, everyone, this is fairy barbie,

reblog if you appreciate fairy barbie 👊😔

update:

gently pressing your head against your lover’s back while they cut vegetables, your lover sitting on the kitchen counter while you talk about your day at work and wait for the water to boil, giving them little pecks while they stir the vegetables, eating the food together, washing the dishes together… you know what i mean