Hun, I know you have. And you know I’ve been by your side each time. If he really is still doing this, I’m sorry. And I LOVE YOU so much. I wish I could somehow stop this stress from happening to you. Text me if you need me, I already messaged you.
This just makes me livid. I’ve been guilt tripped like this by so many dudes in the past, and I hate that I’ve had to put up more and more filters over the years in order to just keep people like this out of my life before they even meet me. I don’t like having to be as defensive as I am, but when I leave the house I feel like it’s absolutely necessary. Keep fighting the good fight, I hope this dude gets the point and leaves you the fuck alone.
OH MY GOD OKAY SO I WAS AT MY FRIEND NICK’S HOUSE AND HE SAT DOWN NEXT TO HIS PARENTS AND HE SAID “mom dad i’m straight…” AND THEY LOOKED SO CONFUSED BUT THEN HE SAID “STRAIGHT UP BISEXUAAAAAALLLLL” AND LEAPED OUT OF THE ROOM I’M NOT JOKING THIS IS HIS IDEA OF COMING OUT I’M GOING TO PISS.
“Yet soil is miraculous. It is where the dead are brought back to life. Here, in the thin earthy boundary between inanimate rock and the planet’s green carpet, lifeless minerals are weathered from stones or decomposed from organic debris. Plants and microscopic animals eat these dead particles and recast them as living matter. In the soil, matter recrosses the boundary between living and dead; and, as we have seen, boundaries-edges-are where the most interesting and important events occur.”—Toby Hemenway, Gaia’s Garden: A Guide to Home-Scale Permaculture (via fuckyeahpermaculture)
The stupid can’t see the difference, the inhibited deny the difference, and the authorities just don’t give a fuck about the difference — but the difference is everything.
Wild or crazy. At the extremes of sex, drugs, and rock and roll — anything worth doing, really — you’ll find only these two flavors. They are the chocolate and vanilla of passion. The yin and yang of sin.
Know the difference. Be aware of the difference. Embrace wild, and send crazy packing.
Savor a savage fuck. Sample a heroic dose. Enjoy any raw and filthy moment of human vulnerability your heart desires, but always ask yourself: are you consciously seeking enlightenment or are you seeking to annihilate your consciousness?
If you don’t know the answer, get the fuck out of the room.
If you’re trying to escape, stop what you’re doing. Get help.
If you’re trying to explore, smile with your soul and take every inch of the experience as deeply as you possibly can.
And no matter what, don’t fucking judge — blowing a fat line of cocaine off a rock hard cock in a Vegas bathroom can be just as valid an exploration of consciousness as dropping acid in the desert with a tantric drum circle of naked hippies.
You don’t need to be burning incense for it to qualify as a religious experience.
Here is the thing, okay? Coming into a feminist conversation with, “Have you considered that sometimes women acquire free drinks at bars?” is like walking into graduate school during Philosophy finals and saying, “Have you considered that the color blue that I see may not be the color blue that you see?”
Imagine you are the guy who just walked into that Philosophy class and laid that shit down. Imagine the class full of students who have worked very hard and committed themselves and sacrificed to be here, students who have spent several years of their lives learning about this subject. Imagine now their feelings when you go to the head of the classroom with a smirk on your face and demand the professor give you an A for effort. Imagine now that they think you are a douchebag asshole, because they do, and because you are. You are a douchebag asshole because you are obviously so self-centered, arrogant, and completely ignorant of the world around you, that you thought you could walk into a high-level course with no background and no work and say something profoundly simplistic and totally unrelated and also everybody should congratulate you for having done this thing, so brave, so provocative.
You are not asking us a real question. You are simply illustrating, for all to see, your own ignorance. You are saying, “I have not considered the implications of the question I have just asked. I have not taken the time nor effort nor commitment to sit down and ask myself this question. Instead, I have come into your philosophy classroom/office/feminist blog and shat out my question with a smirk, because I believe that my two seconds of thought are worth more than your long-term analysis, because I believe I am worth more.”
“Those who subvert social norms are, ostensibly, people who have forgotten that they can be seen, publicly, at any time. Therefore, when they transgress social norms—by expressing physical affection for a person not visibly coded as the opposite sex, for example, or by being fat and rejecting social and bodily invisibility—they need to be reminded of this omniscient social gaze, and in the absence of institutional discipline, must be punished so they do not transgress again. This is the mechanism by which a dude who sees me in a vividly-colored dress, walking alone as though I either don’t know or don’t care that I am defying bodily norms, feels compelled to scream “UGLY FAT BITCH” at me. He is applying social discipline and teaching me a lesson: Everyone can see you, and your body and/or behavior are unacceptable.”—So Michel Foucault and Jeremy Bentham walk into an elementary school cafeteria* via the Two Whole Cakes blog by Lesley Kinzel (via transformfeminism)