IN WHICH I FEEL ALL THE FEELS
I don't really have anything new and clever to put here, but my old description was lame and boring.

Suggestions?

monkey-toes replied to your post “I cannot put into words how much I hate Linguistic Anthropology. The…”

You could try going to academic affairs and explain the situation and still drop the class. The deadline just passed.

I’m filling out the petition right now. I just have to find a way to word: “I shouldn’t be having a mental breakdown in the middle of the library at 3 in the afternoon on Saturday. That’s literally the opposite of what I should be having.” without sounding over dramatic.

dudeufugly:

rdjdumbgenius:

Yes…BBC

image

tigertraceur:

my-d1vineright:

stefdelima:

Yep, pretty much. #truth #life

Essentially

This.

tigertraceur:

my-d1vineright:

stefdelima:

Yep, pretty much. #truth #life

Essentially

This.

Do you remember the way the girls
would call out “love you!”
conveniently leaving out the “I”
as if they didn’t want to commit
to their own declarations.

And I agree that the “I” is a pretty heavy concept

David Berman, “Self Portrait at 28”  (via cultivate-solitude)

(Source: yousoldtheworld)

7thregihoosier:

You can see the guy that he is talking to just pause and wonder what he is doing with his life. Like his hand looks like he is about to make a good retort, and then Colbert just lists gay and the other guy is just like damn, what the hell just happened?

(Source: beeishappy)

Look around your college classroom, spot the virgins.

See, this seems like a game until you skip over the girl with a short skirt and hair in front of her eyes because you heard last summer that she slept with like nineteen guys. You can’t see her hands, but they’re under the table, pulling a rosary through her fingers as she tries to wash the sin off her. She’s only ever kissed three people in her whole life and they’re all girls. She turned down the wrong guy and he told everyone she’s “a whore.” The label “slut” stuck to the bottom of her shoe and swallowed her up.

But that quiet girl who is always reading probably never touched someone else’s penis, you figure, because you don’t know that she goes home and strips down and pulls on tight black leather, you don’t know she’s got a set of whips that could make any set of knees quiver, you don’t know because she’s proud of what she does but she’s not stupid enough to let anyone know about it. She’s sexy, just not here, not where people judge.

See, the truth is: you have no idea who has lost their virginity, because it doesn’t change you. It doesn’t give you some kind of glow or superpower or stamp on your forehead. You know the feeling of waking up on your birthday and thinking “I don’t feel any older whatsoever”? That’s what maybe they’re all so afraid of you finding out: sex doesn’t change you. Sex doesn’t make you an animal, sex doesn’t suddenly make your relationship a million times more stable or intimate or romantic - it can’t fix what’s broken, although it can make the pain go away for a bit. Sex doesn’t really occur with eighty tea lights and a thick white rug. Sex is ugly and loud and frequently awkward, sex is excellent and breathtaking and when you wake up the next morning, you’re the exact same person. There’s not some magical connection with the person in bed beside you. Believe it or not, pregnancy isn’t some kind of punishment - but practice safe sex, get tested, don’t spread your germs around. They want to tell you, “Sex can ruin you” and I’ve heard that a lot as a little girl, that some boy would join me under my sheets and then dump me four days after, used, unhappy.

But I figured out that I’m not a fucking toy. Letting someone have sex with me is not letting them “use” me, because I’m not an object. My father said the issue lay in the fact “Men are insecure and need to know that they’re the best you ever had,” but I think that’s a steaming crock of absolute-wrong and if I didn’t tell the people I’m with how many others I’d slept beside, there would be literally no way for them to know my number, because I don’t rust, I don’t wear out, I don’t get bruised. I’m not a wilting fruit, I don’t go rotten.

But here’s the thing: some people connect sex and emotion. I don’t personally because I am probably secretly an ice storm in disguise, but I still respect my partner’s desires. If they’re the type to want love and sex to coincide, I let them. I don’t make fun, I don’t pull one-night-stands or friends-with-benefits, because it’s not their “reputation” I’m afraid for: it’s their heart I’m defending.

Here’s the thing: Instead of worrying about people’s “purity” and how it defines them as a person, worry instead about how you can protect other people’s emotions.

Because here’s the thing: look around your room and spot the virgins. Look harder. You can’t tell. Sex doesn’t alter people, it doesn’t make them act in a certain way nor dress in a certain manner. Sex and personality have nothing to do with each other. There’s a reason that virginity doesn’t show on someone’s face: because having sex doesn’t cause you to change.

"I lost my virginity to a boy I didn’t even love…" /// r.i.d (via i-blame-reagan)

thishaileysays:

a-kingdom-fit-for-troyler:

tyleroakley:

poorprovincialtown:

editingatwork:

musical-treasures:

So a boyband walked onto the Britain’s Got Talent stage and everyone thought they were going to sing One Direction or something typical…and then they sung Stars from Les Miserables.

This is the best thing ever. Just listen to those harmonies <3

Simon’s face says “I like it against my will.”

IT’S EVERYTHING I EVER DREAMED

YES TO MORE ACTUAL TALENT IN SINGING COMPETITIONS.

HOLY FUCK THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL!

Hot DAMN

BUT A BOY BAND THAT SANG BROADWAY SONGS IS MY DREAM.

dances-withhipsters:

resubee:

Thor the passive aggressive roommate.

IF THOU CANNOT FLUSH AFTER USING THE TOILET, YOU DO NOT DESERVE TO USE IT AT ALL.

elizabitchtaylor:

If the point of the Big Bang Theory was to show that male nerds can be just as sexist as male jocks then well done I guess

guy:

tell someone to look and they’ll ignore you. but tell someone not to look and they’ll turn their head faster than it takes a straight white boy to ask for nudes during 21 questions

dammit-clint:

believe in yourself as much as robert downey jr believes in himself

sexydemonhunter:

College: *hands me my degree*

College: It’s a metaphor. That’ll be $50,000 in student loans please.

Where are you going that you only have to pay 50,000 in student loans?

Cinderella never asked for a prince. She asked for a night off and a dress.

Kiera Cass (via maxonshreaves)