I just had a straight guy tell me “Gah I love lesbians” and before I could even say anything, he added, “because, ya know, they like the same thing I do and sometimes it’s nice to get advice from a girl instead of guys who think making love is just repeatedly putting your dick in something, ya know?” And I have never been more proud of the human race.
- Lawyer: Did he rape her?
- Witness: Yes, but she was drunk and passed out.
- Lawyer: That's not what I asked. Did he rape her?
- Witness: Yes, but she was wearin-
- Lawyer: I didn't ask what she was wearing. Did he rape her?
- Witness: Yes, but-
- Lawyer: I didn't ask anything else. It's just a simple yes or no answer. Did he rape her?
- Witness: Yes.
- Laywer: Yes, he raped her.
- Rape is rape is rape, no matter the context.
Marrying young is not the end of my freedom. It means I want to travel and see the world, but with her by my side. It means I still like drinking in bars and dancing in clubs, but stumbling home with her at 2am and eating pizza in our underwear. It means I know that I want to kiss those lips every morning, and every night before bed. If you see marriage as the end of your ‘freedom’, you’re doing it wrong.
can we stop glorifying social anxiety and that “awkward girl”?
Because it’s not cute or adorable when I can’t even text my friends for the absolute terror that they hate me
and I can’t go to the grocery store on weekends or afternoons because there’s too many people and I can’t function
or that I always panic when talking to anyone new ever at all.
It’s not cute. It’s downright terrifying and I’d greatly appreciate it ya’ll fucking stopped.
In all the aeons we have lost nothing, we have gained nothing - not a speck, not a grain, not a breath. The universe is simply a sealed, twisting kaleidoscope that has reordered itself a trillion trillion trillion times over.
Each baby, then, is a unique collision - a cocktail, a remix - of all that has come before: made from molecules of Napoleon and stardust and comets and whale tooth; colloidal mercury and Cleopatra’s breath: and with the same darkness that is between the stars between, and inside, our own atoms.
When you know this, you suddenly see the crowded top deck of the bus, in the rain, as a miracle: this collection of people is by way of a starburst constellation. Families are bright, irregular-shaped nebulae. Finding a person you love is like galaxies colliding. We are all peculiar, unrepeatable, perambulating micro-universes - we have never been before and we will never be again. Oh God, the sheer exuberant, unlikely face of our existences. The honour of being alive. They will never be able to make you again. Don’t you dare waste a second of it thinking something better will happen when it ends. Don’t you dare Caitlin Moran (via artvevo)