Ed: No More Booze, No More Drugs, And Most Importantly, No More Stede. 😤

conservatives be like "trump is awesome" and their source is trump himself

Joan of Arc

Here is what they don’t tell you:

Icarus laughed as he fell. Threw his head back and yelled into the winds, arms spread wide, teeth bared to the world.

(There is a bitter triumph in crashing when you should be soaring.)

The wax scorched his skin, ran blazing trails down his back, his thighs, his ankles, his feet. Feathers floated like prayers past his fingers, close enough to snatch back. Death breathed burning kisses against his shoulders, where the wings joined the harness. The sun painted everything in shades of gold.

(There is a certain beauty in setting the world on fire and watching from the centre of the flames.)

William Shakespeare invented the whole "prince in love with a commoner" concept that mlm blogs love so much when he wrote Hamlet and it's time we had that conversation

Unicorns, Apocalypse, and Walt Disney

They have made movies about it. Written books about it. We prepared for zombies: infected humans hellbent on destroying society from the inside out. We had it all wrong. Nobody ever suspected to see Walt Disney ride beside the four unicornmen of the apocalypse.

yes i am smart. yes i am stupid. it’s called being flexible.

I hate the “Thoreau’s mom did his laundry” criticism so much, it drives me crazy.

Henry Thoreau did not go to Walden Pond because he thought it would be a fun adventure. He went into the woods because he was deeply depressed and burnt out. He was running from the horror of his brother and best friend recently dying in his arms, and the haunting memory of causing the Fairhaven Bay fire. His friend Ellery Channing literally gave him the ultimatum of either taking some time off to write and think, or else be institutionalized.

I think Thoreau’s mother saw her depressed son choosing to retreat into a small cabin in the woods, and was worried about him. Of course she did his laundry - just as Ralph Waldo Emerson probably brought him firewood and bread. These were not chores of obligation to support a “great” man, but services of love to help their deeply depressed 28yo son and friend.

And if you ask me, there’s a lesson in that - to “suck out the marrow of life” and “live deliberately,” one must also accept help offered from the people in your life who love you. There is no true transcendentalism or individualism without love and friendship behind it.

me at 8pm: you know im kind of tired maybe i’ll actually get to bed at a reasonable hour like 10 or 11 or something

me at 2 am:

big fan of the “I can’t fix him but I can follow him to his tragic and untimely end and love him even as he becomes corrupted and decays into a shadow of his former self” trope

angel plumbers