I've got blisters on my fingers.

Read the Printed Word!

reasonsmysoniscrying:

3yo (while insisting the four of us hold hands): “Let’s all stick together - just like a puzzle!”

I used to say junk like this all the time when I was that age.

Fascinating!

wyrdmorrish:

Summer makes me a bit nostalgic for the desert.
But I’d never go back to that desert. I’d never live there ever again.
I still think I’d make a kick-ass desert witch, though.

I was thinking about this just two nights ago. I was walking down the road and missed nighttime Lubbock streets for about a minute before I descended the Eno valley and caught the perfume of the trees that grow there and felt the temperature fall five degrees from the proximity to the flowing water.

wyrdmorrish:

Summer makes me a bit nostalgic for the desert.

But I’d never go back to that desert. I’d never live there ever again.

I still think I’d make a kick-ass desert witch, though.

I was thinking about this just two nights ago. I was walking down the road and missed nighttime Lubbock streets for about a minute before I descended the Eno valley and caught the perfume of the trees that grow there and felt the temperature fall five degrees from the proximity to the flowing water.

(Source: hvitrose)

"My response to the “I am not a feminist” internet phenomenon….

First of all, it’s clear you don’t know what feminism is. But I’m not going to explain it to you. You can google it. To quote an old friend, “I’m not the feminist babysitter.”

But here is what I think you should know.

You’re insulting every woman who was forcibly restrained in a jail cell with a feeding tube down her throat for your right to vote, less than 100 years ago.

You’re degrading every woman who has accessed a rape crisis center, which wouldn’t exist without the feminist movement.

You’re undermining every woman who fought to make marital rape a crime (it was legal until 1993).

You’re spitting on the legacy of every woman who fought for women to be allowed to own property (1848). For the abolition of slavery and the rise of the labor union. For the right to divorce. For women to be allowed to have access to birth control (Comstock laws). For middle and upper class women to be allowed to work outside the home (poor women have always worked outside the home). To make domestic violence a crime in the US (It is very much legal in many parts of the world). To make workplace sexual harassment a crime.

In short, you know not what you speak of. You reap the rewards of these women’s sacrifices every day of your life. When you grin with your cutsey sign about how you’re not a feminist, you ignorantly spit on the sacred struggle of the past 200 years. You bite the hand that has fed you freedom, safety, and a voice.

In short, kiss my ass, you ignorant little jerks.”

Libby Anne (via newwavenova)

You don’t even have to do much in terms of “activism” to call yourself a feminist. If you believe in equality among all people, especially for women, who have suffered from sexism, then you are a feminist.

(via puppysizedpond)

(Source: dumbledoresarmy-againstbigotry, via puppysizedpond)

humansofnewyork:

“We fled to the Philippines, which was under American occupation at the time. But it wasn’t long before the Japanese took over the islands. We were living in Manila, and when the Japanese occupied the city, they began to teach us to read and write Japanese. When the Americans came to retake the city, they invaded from the north, and the Japanese blew up the bridges and barricaded themselves in the southern part of the city where we lived. Shells were falling all around us, because the Japanese had stationed a gun encampment across from our house. One morning, we decided to make a run for the hospital, so that we could put ourselves under the protection of the Red Cross. Our neighbors were running in front of us, pushing their belongings on a pushcart, when they stepped on a land mine and the whole family was killed. We kept running, but when we got to the main street, there was a checkpoint and we weren’t allowed to cross. So we hid beneath a house, and soon we were discovered by Japanese soldiers. They lined us all up against the wall to be executed. We begged and begged and begged for our lives. They finally allowed my mother and the children to step aside, but they told my father to stay. My mother dropped to her knees and asked the Japanese commander to imagine it was his family. And he finally let all of us go.”

humansofnewyork:

“We fled to the Philippines, which was under American occupation at the time. But it wasn’t long before the Japanese took over the islands. We were living in Manila, and when the Japanese occupied the city, they began to teach us to read and write Japanese. When the Americans came to retake the city, they invaded from the north, and the Japanese blew up the bridges and barricaded themselves in the southern part of the city where we lived. Shells were falling all around us, because the Japanese had stationed a gun encampment across from our house. One morning, we decided to make a run for the hospital, so that we could put ourselves under the protection of the Red Cross. Our neighbors were running in front of us, pushing their belongings on a pushcart, when they stepped on a land mine and the whole family was killed. We kept running, but when we got to the main street, there was a checkpoint and we weren’t allowed to cross. So we hid beneath a house, and soon we were discovered by Japanese soldiers. They lined us all up against the wall to be executed. We begged and begged and begged for our lives. They finally allowed my mother and the children to step aside, but they told my father to stay. My mother dropped to her knees and asked the Japanese commander to imagine it was his family. And he finally let all of us go.”

I don’t know. Say it with me: I don’t know. Good God, it is liberating, I am a towering mountain of ignorance, I DON’T KNOW! {x}

(Source: sansa-swifts, via effyeahnerdfighters)

johndarnielle:

fairy-wren:

(via 500px / Black Vultures fighting by Ofer Levy)

reblogging these awesome vultures instead of reblogging that garbage Axe ad to comment on it, since I suspect people who advertise on Tumblr don’t really care why you’re reblogging their content or what trenchant commentary you’re adding to it, just as long as they get plenty of reblogs
why do we gotta have the goddamn Axe ads though they’re so wretched
may the vultures feast on the flesh of people writing the Axe copy, may the vultures make jokes about tasting deodorant even through the putrid liquefaction of decomposition

Now this is the way to start a morning.

johndarnielle:

fairy-wren:

(via 500px / Black Vultures fighting by Ofer Levy)

reblogging these awesome vultures instead of reblogging that garbage Axe ad to comment on it, since I suspect people who advertise on Tumblr don’t really care why you’re reblogging their content or what trenchant commentary you’re adding to it, just as long as they get plenty of reblogs

why do we gotta have the goddamn Axe ads though they’re so wretched

may the vultures feast on the flesh of people writing the Axe copy, may the vultures make jokes about tasting deodorant even through the putrid liquefaction of decomposition

Now this is the way to start a morning.

ACH! I want to read, but every time I begin to scan the letters, my brain immediately switches gears.