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I'm Lindsey: An anxious English Major and Women and Gender Studies minor living in Harrisonburg/NoVA. 21 and Queer. Human Rights & Women's Rights; Intersectionality & Inclusion. And poetry. And a lot of cats. I'm trying to recover from a lot of stuff. Come talk to me sometime. Also, ScalePhoenix82 on Pottermore. *~Slytherin~*

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batreaux:

You bump into a man on the subway wearing a trenchcoat. You apologize and he responds “Its alright. We’re only human. All of us. All of us here are human. Yep. Very human. I’m probably the most human here! You betcha.” and then the trenchcoat falls and the figure collapses and roughly 1000 salamanders scatter around the train 

jasoniaistheway:

humans-of-pdx:

"I don’t really like people, but it’s difficult to get comfortable with loneliness. I mean, I’ve tried to have friends, but it never works out. And I’m tired of going out alone. I’m ok staying in at my place. It smells good when I burn incense and I have a lot of records and I can just play video games.” The bus she was waiting for arrived. “Do you need to go?” "It’s ok. Another one will come in ten minutes… But then, you know, sometimes I just want a partner— a relationship. It would be nice to share this part of my life with someone. I’ve been single for years, and you know, there are people I could call if I wanted to. But people always end up saying things that rub me the wrong way, or if I open up to them, suddenly they want me to be their best friend, and I don’t want people to have expectations of me. I don’t want to waste anyone else’s time if I’m not interested in being close to them." Another bus came and went while she told me about the loneliness, wiping tears from her eyes. Then another. “I’m sorry, I’ve talked too long.” "It’s really ok. Sometimes we just need to connect." "Yeah, I forget that sometimes."

I feels her.

jasoniaistheway:

humans-of-pdx:


"I don’t really like people, but it’s difficult to get comfortable with loneliness. I mean, I’ve tried to have friends, but it never works out. And I’m tired of going out alone. I’m ok staying in at my place. It smells good when I burn incense and I have a lot of records and I can just play video games.” 

The bus she was waiting for arrived. “Do you need to go?” 

"It’s ok. Another one will come in ten minutes… But then, you know, sometimes I just want a partner— a relationship. It would be nice to share this part of my life with someone. I’ve been single for years, and you know, there are people I could call if I wanted to. But people always end up saying things that rub me the wrong way, or if I open up to them, suddenly they want me to be their best friend, and I don’t want people to have expectations of me. I don’t want to waste anyone else’s time if I’m not interested in being close to them." 

Another bus came and went while she told me about the loneliness, wiping tears from her eyes. Then another. “I’m sorry, I’ve talked too long.” 

"It’s really ok. Sometimes we just need to connect." 

"Yeah, I forget that sometimes."

I feels her.

The truth about love is: it happens. A lot. It happens at appropriate times (like, when you’re in a long-term relationship with someone great), and also inappropriate ones (like, when you meet somebody at a party and have a weirdly awesome conversation and then make out in a bathroom). Love is just not all that concerned with appropriateness.

We have a mythology surrounding romantic love that says it’s a special, rare feeling, reserved for just a few people in your whole life. It says that love takes time to develop, and that the feelings you experience at the outset of a relationship are not love, but something else (“infatuation”, “a crush”, or my favorite, “twitterpation” (see Bambi)). It also says that love is generally constant and reliable, and that falling in love is A MAJOR LIFE EVENT, about which SOMETHING MUST BE DONE!…

….Imagine if you could say to a casual partner, “I love you. It’s no big deal. It doesn’t mean you’re The One, or even one of the ones. It doesn’t mean you have to love me back. It doesn’t mean we have to date, or marry, or even cuddle. It doesn’t mean we have to part ways dramatically in a flurry of tears and broken dishes. It doesn’t mean I’ll love you until I die, or that I’ll still love you next year, or tomorrow.”…

The big advantage for the lover is that falling in love will feel less scary, life-threatening, and crazy-making. As long as love is theoretically reserved for people whom you want to date and possibly marry, falling in love will be confusing and dramatic. If we interpret this particular set of feelings and thoughts as an epic, life-changing event, we’ll have no choice but to get really, really attached to our beloved. We’ll throw a lot of expectations at them (“Love me back! Love me only! Love me forever!”), and feel hurt and resentful if the feeling is not mutual…

If love was casual, perhaps it wouldn’t collide into our sense of identity or our plans for the future at such high velocity. It wouldn’t feel so personal. If it’s not mutual, so what? If it doesn’t turn into a relationship, so what? I have feelings and desires all the time that go unsatisfied. Sometimes (okay, a lot of times), late at night, I want Chef’s Perfect Chocolate ice cream, but Creole Creamery closes at 10pm. Do I panic? Do I call Creole Creamery and leave a series of desperate messages? Do I curl into a ball and lament that without Chef’s Perfect Chocolate, I am a broken person who is not worthy of ice cream? No. I deal. I feel my feelings, whine a little if I need to, and go without. Like a grown-ass woman.

And here’s my favorite part: if love is casual - not something rare and dramatic and potentially painful, but something common and easy and mutually enjoyable - we all get to feel more love, and share more love.

Sounds lovely, right?”

psiioniic:

lifes too short to pretend to hate pop music

fats:

I think it’s really important for us to remember that when we are upset with our bodies and how we look, and when we get down on ourselves… we are upset with the wrong person. 

Direct your anger toward the society that has taught you how to hate yourself. Direct your hate toward the patriarchal ideals that make you believe you are wrong. 

Do not speak badly to yourself. YOU are perfect. It’s everything around you that’s fucked.