“I don’t want you to be hopeful, I want you to feel fear” this girl is 43 levels of metal

oh u haven’t heard?? it’s all gonna be ok

no offence but let yourself be ugly!! you don’t have to fix your hair if you’re not going anywhere you don’t have to cover up ur spots or change out of your lounge pants to go buy milk like damn we really gotta let ourselves be comfortable without constantly apologising for just looking normal and it’s hard but i think we need to practice looking in the mirror and saying i look ugly af today and that’s okay!! tru self care is letting urself be ugly tbh

I love this version of self-love because it’s much more feasible for people who are self-conscious. Like it takes years of powerful reconditioning to convince yourself that your flaws, like stretch marks or acne or cellulitis, are attractive. It’s basically impossible for most people.

But learning to say “so what, I’m ugly, there’s more to life” not only overwrites this narrative that we have to feel attractive in some way (which is bs) but also reroutes your actual attention to just, living, instead of examining, evaluating, and judging your appearance

You’ve been hit by 🔪

You’ve been struck by 🔪

A Roman Senator 🔪🔪🔪

CAESER ARE YOU OKAY

ARE YOU OKAY CEASER

— Maya Angelou (via quotemadness)

Kindness is often mistaken for softness and let me tell you, friends….that is a mistake you don’t want to make. 

Kind people are not born that way, they do not stumble into it, kind people are forged in fire and darkness and imploding stars…they have steel cores. Throw a punch and you’re going to break your hand. 

Kind people are kind because they know firsthand that life isn’t.

“The helper seeks to help because he knows what it is to be helpless”

Kind people are those who have suffered and lived. Bitter people are those who have suffered and lost themselves. Those who take advantage of kindness are those who have yet to suffer at all.

i like how space doesn’t care about me. it’s impossible to disappoint the sun

starting has been very difficult

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I love genuinely innocent “boys will be boys.” Just saw a guy come out of a frat house to poke a pair of jeans they’d left outside - they were frozen solid, and as soon as he confirmed that, like twenty more boys came rushing out of the house going “YOOOOOOOOOO”

I heard grunting outside my window the other night and there were four boys struggling to push this giant snowball (like 7 foot diameter) down the sidewalk.

I once lost my keys at a frat house.

My drunk ass had actually walked home without them, pounded on my apartment door, gotten let in by my rightfully-disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to pass out on the couch.  Apparently I puked in the toilet before passing out.  I do not remember this part.

The next morning, I schlepped back to the frat house.  I stood there, right in front of the front door.  This was a novel experience for me.  I’d never been at a frat house in broad daylight before.

A boy, presumably, of the house, asked me what I was doing. 

“I lost my keys in here last night,” I called back.  “I was seeing if I could go in and look for them?”

He opened the door and gestured for me to come in.

“Go wherever you want.”

I’d never seen a frat house post-party before.  Wandering up the stairs and through the halls, I was surrounded by hungover and still-drunk frat boys stumbling around in their socks and sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food and showers like moths to a porch light.  A few of them threw puzzled glances my way.  I’m sure they thought I was some post-bacchanalia hallucination.

I entered one room where a boy was drunkenly watching some Old Yeller-esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of his room from his bed.

“Do you like dog movies?” he asked, voice all mumbly from grogginess and also from the fact that his face was squished against his pillow and half-buried by his blanket.

I told him I did.

He mumbled again, pleased, and asked what I was doing.  I told him I was looking for my keys.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen any keys around here.”

I didn’t doubt him.

Twenty minutes had passed.  I’d searched just about every bedroom and nuclear-waste-dump-site of a bathroom in that house.  I’d given up on ever finding my keys and was prepared to beg my roommates’ forgiveness and get a new set copied.

As I stood there in the hallway, silently bewailing my predicament, a particularly-burly frat boy approached me.

“You need help with something?”

“I lost my keys here last night and I can’t find them, I’ve looked everywhere.”

“What do they look like?  I’ll put it into the group chat.”  He was already pulling out his phone.

No one ever checks a group chat, I thought, but what the hell.  It was worth a shot.  “Um, it’s just a ring of keys.  The keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like yea big.  Like bright pink, you can’t miss it.”

He nodded, presumably typing this description faithfully into the group chat.

“Alright, I sent the message out.  Good luck.”

And with that, he turned and left.

A few moments later, I heard a distant thundering.  It was coming from upstairs, and it was getting louder and louder.  One assumes that how I felt in that moment was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest stampede through the ravine as a horde of large young men all thundered down the stairs, making a beeling for me.

“Someone tell the girl!” One of them shouted, faceless in the mob.  “Girl!  Hey, GIRL!!!  We found your keys, girl!!!”

They circled around me.  I hadn’t felt that small since I was maybe eleven years old.  One of them split himself off from the crowd.

“Are these -” he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, “your keys?”

And lo, there was the distinctive bright millennial pink cat keychain dangling off the ring.

“Yes,” I whispered.  “Oh my god, yes.”

“EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

The cheer went up.

Turns out he found them in the bathroom upstairs.  I thanked them again profusely.  There was a scattered round of “no problems” and then, just as suddenly as they descended, they all dispersed, like ships in the night.

I think the best “Boys will be boys” situations are when they all collectively share one brain cell over the most simple of tasks

one time i was at a nightclub and it was really dark and i met a guy and we didnt really talk he kind of just like guided me to the dance floor and we grinded on eachother and made out and he whispered wanna go to my place in my ear and i was like yeah ok so we went outside to get a cab and we looked at each other in the light of the streetlight and he turned out to be my bio. teacher and he literally sprinted away

today i was talking to my coworker jess and she said to me “i’ve been trying to think of how to tell my husband that i want a horse. i’m really non confrontational and i don’t know how to tell him. like, thanks for the flowers, but i want a horse.” and i was like, “well, you could always send him subliminal messages. like tape pictures of horses all over the walls and stuff” and she gave me this really weird look and was like “i said divorce not horse“ oh my god…

classic material

Dramatic snow leopard spots new camera in enclosure for the first time

I love him

He chonk

energy!!!

Corgi only listens to owner when he talks like The Beatles

I don’t even know where to begin with this!

never understood people who let candy melt in their mouth. ill bite down on a damn jolly rancher because i lack the patience 

It’s like a dishwasher

i dont understand even a little bit thank you

My last two brain cells fighting to stay positive

Reminder: Everyone has bad days, you don’t have to be your best self everyday. Everyone has days where they are sad, cranky, or lazy. Don’t beat yourself up for being human, you’re ok. What counts is how you handle yourself and treat people on a regular basis.