A Delicate Imbalance
February 2012
39 posts
“One of the great things about books is sometimes there are some fantastic pictures.”
—George W. Bush (via libraryland)
“If anything, women have shown in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan that they are not only fully capable; they have excelled. They have saved many men’s lives. And it did not damage unit cohesion. And if Rick Santorum doesn’t believe that, then he can volunteer, enlist, put on a uniform, and put his butt on the line and try it himself. He’s playing politics. He is saying something inflammatory because he thinks he’s going to get a certain population to give him money, and it’s a shame because America’s daughters are just as capable of doing their jobs as America’s sons, whether that’s at home as doctors and attorneys or in combat as convoy commanders. This is the 21st century. Get over yourself.”
—Tammy Duckworth (Iraq war vet, Congressional candidate, double amputee, former Black Hawk pilot) is her amazing self in an interview with The American Prospect. (via thepoliticalnotebook)
I don't know how I feel about it.
I feel someday I’ll have the courage to.
Sometimes, that “someday” becomes imminently closer. Because what’s the point? And because I’m tired of the perpetual struggle.
I can’t tell you when my life took a turn for the worse; it seemed inevitable and impending.
I’ve tired of the rat race. We spend so much time competing when we could use that time to collaborate.
And what’s so bad about having your brain matter splattered? We’re all going to decompose at some point. We’ll all eventually be forgotten. Why agonize over the process of it—the time that it takes?
Why prolong the pain and disappointment any further?
Some are born to live, and some are born to die.
I’m just waiting to be ready to die.
Yes, yes, I know I fucked up. I’m tired of hearing it. BELIEVE me, I am TIRED of hearing it. All that’s in the past already, and I just want to get past it.
I want to be able to hop in my car and drive to wherever I please. Seriously, be thankful that you can drive, if you can. I hate depending on people for rides, I hate being stuck in this goddamn house all goddamn day with nothing to do but clean and be responsible and adult-like and shit when all I want to do is live my day as I fuckin’ please.
Nine more months of this shit. Nine. That’s how long it takes for a human baby to develop (as we all know). Wtf?!
I’m not a bad citizen at all. OKAY, like I said, I fucked up. I do stupid things. Who the fuck doesn’t? I didn’t have it together, but this is goddamned unfair. I’m not unethical or immoral or a fucking convict. I’m me, and I’m young, and I fucked up, and I JUST WANT TO START ALL OVER AGAIN
BUT IT’S HARD
WHEN YOUR SHIT
WON’T
FUCKING
LET
YOU
I’m in this boat alone, floating down a river named emotion. Will I make it back to shore or drift into the unknown?
Incubus always put me in the right mood.
That moment when you finish a book, look around, and realize that everyone is just carrying on with their lives as though you didn’t just experience emotional trauma at the hands of a paperback.
LOL. Yeeess.
Reblog if you want an Anon's honest opinion of you.
So, my dad moved out the other day. My parents’ relationship has always been kinda rocky and increasingly so over the past year after my dad admitted to having an affair.
Apparently, he’s still involved with that lady somehow or something. My parents started arguing more frequently… and the arguments were worse. It escalated about two weeks ago. Physically. My mom had bruises. My dad pushed her to the floor. Fucking asshole. I hate to think about it.
So I don’t.
Life at home is much more pleasant though; it’s just me and my mom now—just us girls (and my cat). I don’t really miss having my dad around. Especially after that whole ordeal and especially after he voiced that I’m part of the problem.
I always thought of my dad as the more lenient one—the one that’s more understanding. Now I feel the complete opposite: I feel my mom has made so much effort in trying to empathize with me, whereas my dad merely judges and makes his own assumptions. Maybe it’s ‘cause I don’t (or can’t) talk to him as freely I can talk to my mom now. I don’t know. I’m not going to focus on that… or him. Not now, anyway; now it’s all about my mom.
“Go into the arts. I’m not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”
—Kurt Vonnegut (via slychedelic)
"The Greeks thought that homosexuality was more pure than heterosexuality, because one of the main purposes of heterosexuality is the option of reproduction. The Greeks considered heterosexuals desire for only this to be greedy, where as homosexual love is more about true love for the other person, not just the desire to reproduce. Also, because homosexual love isn't the dominant culture. It's different."
“Yeah, which is a really good thing to think as a human. Because we all have a timeline, Peter… but most of us don’t live like we have a timeline.”
—Steve Gleason, suffering from ALS or Lou Gehrig’s Disease, in response to Peter King’s question “How you thought to yourself, how long do I have to live?” (via apoplecticskeptic)
Things Hungover Girls Say
- After waking up dazed: Did I go out last night?
- What did I eat? Popcorn?
- Did we fuck last night? ‘Cause my vagina feels weird.
- Where the fuck is my phone?
- Are you sure? Because it smells a bit weird too.
- I had coffee? Oh.
- And I rode a mechanical bull?
- Let’s go get beer.
- Let’s just… fuckin’… order a pizza.
- What—whose condom is this?
- Did you use my bathroom?
- Story time! Okay, so what happened last night? GO!
- I”m still drunk.
- (cracks open beer)
- I hit on the drive-thru girl at McDonald’s?
- So… that was a dream—right?
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