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you are allowed to be proud of the victories that no one else can see. like showering without completely hating your body, not breaking into tears at the thought of the future, talking yourself out of a dark mindset, calming yourself down in public, or like waking up every single day and choosing life. be proud of the progress no matter if it is visible for others or not. you’re doing great, keep up the good work!

AND THE NIGHT SAID:

I LOVE YOU AS A FIST LOVES THE BROKEN RIB AS THE LUNGS LOVE THE CHASE AS THE FINGER AND NAIL LOVES THE GOUGE AND TEAR

I LOVE YOU AS THE TEETH LOVE THE TENDON AND THE TENDON THE BRUISE I LOVE YOU AS ADRENALINE LOVES THE POUNDING IN YOUR EARS

and the day said

i love you as the palm loves the soft body as the muscle loves the stretch as the tongue and the lips love the kiss and the laugh and the i’ll-have-more-of-this

i love you as the eyes love the sleep and the sleep loves the bed i love you as the echo loves the shout 

& i will keep loving you like this. as amber loves to collect bones. as arms love to hold. i will love you like this, and we will never grow old.

Stanley Plumly, from “Jesus Wept.”  (via merulae)

distortionly:

“that is the problem. if she wanted to dance i would let her wreck the furniture. if she wanted to cook i would let her burn down the house. and if she wanted to scream i would let her deafen me. I’ve never loved anyone enough to let them destroy me but God, she could take me by the throat and my eyes would sparkle at the mere inches between us.”

Fuck that’s beautiful.

this, is art

I seriously will always reblog this, damn

Stone statue of a standing male worshiper from the ancient Sumerian city of Tutub. University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, Philadelphia, PA.

Photo by Babylon Chronicle

had to do it to em’

— Arthur Miller, The Crucible (via wordsnquotes)

Ladies of MARVEL 👊👊

This is some absolutely brilliant editing, y'all.

the FLAVOR

I’m OBSESSED

movie tropes that will never get old to me:

#alternatively alternatively: *terribly loud crash w/ sirens and cat screeching*#person: *off camera* ‘I’M OKAY’ (via @zenlida)

character being all “you expect me to do X?” Gilligan Cut to character doing X

how could all y'all forget “ACT NATURAL!”

These are all great but let’s not forget two characters giving extremely biased flashbacks to the same event that each paint the other as an incompetent loon

i would like to respectfully add: scenes where a character walks into a room, sees something scary, and turns around and walks out with no reaction or change of expression

Bonus points if he DOES react, but it’s to close the door and tell his buddy “it’s for you.”

Characters giving a flashback and voicing all the characters themselves

Arabelle Sicardi, from “The Year in Ugliness,” published in The Poetry Project (via lifeinpoetry)

Sara Teasdale, from Morning Song in “The Collected Poems Of Sara Teasdale” (via adrasteiax)

The Song of Babas Yagas from the Flying Ship cartoon. It’s an ear-worm, and I’ve been singing it for a week now. So, I decided to share it with you LOL

Here are the lyrics: 

Растяни меха, гармошка, Эх, играй-наяривай, Пой частушки, бабка Ёжка, Пой, не разговаривай.

Я была навеселе И летала на метле, Хоть сама не верю я В эти суеверия.

Шла лесною стороной, Увязался чёрт за мной, Думала мужчина, Что за чертовщина.

Повернула я домой, Снова чёрт идет за мной, Плюнула на плешь ему И послала к лешему.

Самый вредный из людей Это сказочник-злодей, Вот уж врун искуссный, Жаль что он не вкусный.

Растяни меха, гармошка, Эх, играй-наяривай, Пой частушки, бабка Ёжка, Пой не разговаривай.

i killed a plant once because i gave it too much water. lord, i worry that love is violence.

— José Olivarez, from “Getting Ready to Say I Love You to My Dad, It Rains,” Citizen Illegal

can you look the moon in the face. when you stare at the palm of your hand how far away does it feel; are you in your bones or are you only watching them move. when you feel things is it an echo or is it a ripple; the wake of an emotion that you ride on, unsure how long you’ll spend with seawater in your mouth instead of your lungs again. when you speak your name does it belong to you or do the letters tumble out already leaving, running. does every moment happen on a delay, so you are witnessing life through a hole cut in a sun visor, telescoped, down a chamber, in a wet room somewhere else, to someone else, to someone not-you. does your life happen elsewhere, behind a door you closed or was closed on you, behind a wall you built or else was built out of you, beyond or inside a growing rip you never quite learned how to mend; belonging to some distant skeleton who cannot hear you begging: please, please, please, for the love of god, let me come home again.

The Sami people are a people inhabiting Sápmi (known in English as Lapps), which today encompasses large parts of Norway and Sweden, northern parts of Finland, and the Murmansk Oblast of Russia. The Sami are the only indigenous people in Scandinavia that are recognized and protected under the international conventions of indigenous peoples.    Traditionally, the Sami have pursued a variety of livelihoods, including coastal fishing, fur trapping, and sheep herding. Their best-known means of livelihood is semi-nomadic reindeer herding. Currently about 10% of the Sami continue to herd reindeer. This practise provides them with meat, fur, and transportation. For traditional, environmental, cultural, and political reasons, reindeer herding is legally reserved for the Sami in some regions of the Nordic countries.   Petroglyphs and archeological findings such as settlements dating from about 10,000 B.C. can be found in the traditional lands of the Sami. A characteristic feature of Sami musical tradition is the singing of yoik. Yoiks are song-chants and are traditionally sung a cappella, usually sung slowly and deep in the throat with apparent emotional content of sorrow or anger. Yoiks can be dedicated to animals and birds in nature, special people or special occasions, and they can be joyous, sad or melancholic. They often are based on syllablic improvisation Some examples of Sami traditional clothing are the Gákti (pictured above with a goldwork collar for women), Four Winds Hat, Beaska (reindeer coat, pictured bottom centre) and the Luhhka (a poncho-like hooded cape). For centuries, the Sami have been the subject of discrimination and abuse by the dominant cultures who claim possession of their lands. The sentiment and official policies towards the Sami differ in each of the countries which they currently inhabit.

Y.Z, an honest letter to a forgotten dream part 2 (via heartcountry)

You’re in charge of assigning every child on Earth the monster under their bed. One child in particular has caused every monster assigned to him/her to quit. You decide to assign yourself.

Case: #273402 Status: Disastrous.

I stare at the file and realize I have no options, over the last 2 years every monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has quit, every last one. Her first monster; a giant goldfish-faced humanoid named Bubba, had been with her for four years, and then she wasn’t scared of him anymore. After that it was a string of different common, uncommon, and rare monsters… I even assigned a sentient sock monster to her. He came back crying! I look on my tablet, only one assignable monster left; myself. Field work has never been my cup of tea, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So at 8:03 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte and her little brother Daniel; I slither into the space beneath Charlotte’s bed. Across the room underneath Daniel’s crib is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind of monster. I turn my attention to the bed above me, Charlotte is still awake but barely, I reach up over the bed and run an ice cold finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it again. “I’m not afraid of you monster!” She whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door somewhere in the house slams and there is an audible hitch of breath from above me. A few minutes go by I can hear Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and loud panting breaths, Charlotte scrambles off the bed and… She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With. Me. “Move. Over!” Charlotte hisses at me. I do. The door to the bedroom slams open and I smell the stench of human intoxicants before the man even steps inside. I know why Charlotte isn’t afraid of any of my monsters; she’s afraid of her own. Francis reaches a hand under the bed and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to pull, I slither out. “What the…” I cut Francis’s next words off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height. Looming over the drunken man I caress my cold fingers down his face. “If you ever touch, scare, or harm my child again, I will find you, and I will do the same to you, for all eternity.” I promise to him. As Francis runs from the room he soils himself. I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck her back under her covers and kiss her forehead goodnight. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, sleep well darling.” Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the monster under her bed.

WELL GODAMN, WE HAVE OURSELVES A WINNER

Holy shit I’m gonna cry that’s beautiful.

Every single cursed moment of my tumblr existence has led me here. I am whole. I am complete.

Every year, the richest person in America is declared the “Winner of Capitalism.” They get a badge. Then all of their wealth is donated to charity and they have to start over at $0.