my biggest personality flaw is not having a cool eyebrow scar

FOUND FOOTAGE HORROR REVENGE MOVIE AGAINST MURDEROUS COPS

For more than forty years, Pulitzer Prize winning poet Mary Oliver lived on Cape Cod with the love of her life, the remarkable photographer Molly Malone Cook.

When Cook died in 2005 at the age of eighty, Oliver looked for a light, however faint, to shine through the thickness of bereavement. She spent a year making her way through thousands of her spouse’s photographs and unprinted negatives, which Oliver then enveloped in her own reflections to bring to life Our World - part memoir, part deeply moving eulogy to a departed soulmate, part celebration of their love for one another through their individual creative loves. Embraced in Oliver’s poetry and prose, Cook’s photographs reveal the intimate thread that brought these two extraordinary women together — a shared sense of deep aliveness and attention to the world, a devotion to making life’s invisibles visible, and above all a profound kindness to everything that exists, within and without.

Oliver ends Our World with The Whistler, a poem on never fully knowing even those nearest to us — a beautiful testament to what another wise woman once wrote: “You can never know anyone as completely as you want. But that’s okay, love is better.”

THE WHISTLER

All of a sudden she began to whistle. By all of a sudden I mean that for more than thirty years she had not whistled. It was thrilling. At first I wondered, who was in the house, what stranger? I was upstairs reading, and she was downstairs. As from the throat of a wild and cheerful bird, not caught but visiting, the sounds war- bled and slid and doubled back and larked and soared.

Finally I said, Is that you? Is that you whistling? Yes, she said. I used to whistle, a long time ago. Now I see I can still whistle. And cadence after cadence she strolled through the house, whistling.

I know her so well, I think. I thought. Elbow and an- kle. Mood and desire. Anguish and frolic. Anger too. And the devotions. And for all that, do we even begin to know each other? Who is this I’ve been living with for thirty years?

This clear, dark, lovely whistler?

Legends supporting legends

Don’t forget that what the U.S. is doing matches the U.N.’s description of a genocidal act. -V

Andrea Gibson, “First Love”

Go dissapoint the next bitch I’m busy.

people are always like “are you a morning person or a night person” and I’m just like buddy I’m barely even a person

flock together, love each other

I’m no longer interested in pain. it doesn’t inspire me, it doesn’t motivate me, I don’t think it’s a beautiful thing. I’ve spent too long making suffering a part of my personality

Shout out to all my straight sisters I’m so sorry 😞

Jesus, leave his ass.

We learn fast to be very kind and attentive, tho.

My mom, who got her degree in Marriage and Family Counseling when she was 60, says studies show that women will sometimes sometimes leave a long term relationship to live on their own for a while before seeking a new relationship, but men will almost never leave a long term relationship without having a new relationship either in progress or just beginning.  They don’t want to give up the caretaker they have without another one on deck or in the wings.

This is so sad

This isnt cute or quirky. This means hes a fucking hopeless user

Please date a man who actually acts like an adult.

Ok I lived with my ex for 2 years and he literally wouldn’t be able to get his own food if I wasn’t at home, I’d get home from work and he’d be angry at me for “making him starve”

My current partner has lived on his own for 8 years and the absolute most I have to help him with is maybe sending him $20 so he can make a bill payment on time

It made me realise for 2-4 years I wasn’t a girlfriend I was a fucking mother

Men who have been independent are capable of reverting if given the slightest excuse. When we married, my ex husband was 10 years older than me and had lived on his own for 8ish years. Yet (and I allowed this until I finally got fed up and took us to counseling) I did 80% of the cooking, because I was better at it. Same with the cleaning, shopping, social planning, etc.

After I left, in the first six months I got texts or calls asking me to please tell him:

I shit you not.

Then he had a heart attack (mild) and none of his family or friends were around to take him to the hospital. But instead of calling 911, he called me, who by then lived 45 minutes away. He lived 5 minutes from an EMS dispatch location. He called me, despite the fact that he didn’t believe me 8 months prior when I was feeling suicidal and I had to call a cab to go alone to check myself into the hospital for a 72-hour hold. I told him to call 911, hung up on him when he whined about “making a fuss”, called 911, called his siblings and then texted them “your brother is having a heart attack, I called 911 for him, come home,” and washed my hands of it.

Emotionally vacant men who won’t do household labor or emotional labor are not Nazis, but they aren’t good people, either, and you don’t have to put up with their shit.

Millennial women of Tumblr, please read this post.

And then please: make the decision for yourself to never stay with a man who expects you to be his mother and servant.

This is my grandma to a T. She has lived with the same man for a good 60+ years now and her literal words quoted: “When I’m not home for an extended period of time (week or more) I worry about him eating and then when I get home he’s been eating fish and potatoes for the whole time, even though I left heatable meals in the fridge for him” My grandma pays ALL THE BILLS. Yes ALL OF THEM. The only bills my grandpa puts any money into is car payements and some land-deed tax stuff. He refuses to cook, clean, wash his clothes, any of it.

The whole family is currently waiting for my grandpa to die so my grandma can finally go free, because she’s so stuck into her role as a caretaker that’s the only way to force her to let this shitbag go.

Tumblr, keep circulating this. This is not the 1960s, a dude’s gotta wash his own fucking clothes in our lord’s year of 2018.

My boyfriend’s Grandpa died last year because his wife died first and he had no idea how to properly take care of himself. Bf’s mom even tried taking care of him for a bit, but he was so emotionally and verbally abusive to her that she had to stop. He refused to pay the money for a live in nurse, but he also had never learned how to be an adult because he had always relied on his mother then his wife for all that “women’s work.” He ended up basically wasting away.

My boyfriend always says that it was such an injustice that she died first and never got a chance to live a life free of him.

December 1st is world aids day

….It doesn’t get more American than every single part of this story and that is not a compliment.

Despite being named Time’s Person of Year, Tarana Burke was not included in the iconic TIME cover. She is the forgotten founder of #MeToo, and though others have gained positive attention through the use of her creation, Tarana Burke remains unacknowledged, unthanked and unrecognized. Take a moment to celebrate #TaranaBurke and her immense contributions to sexual violence prevention and awareness. Tarana, thank you for your incredible activism. You have uplifted and healed countless survivors and deserve recognition and applause far greater than what you’ve received. Let’s give Tarana the thanks and magazine cover she deserves. 

**You can follow Tarana on social media and primarily through her website and personal blog sheslays.com