i am a ghost town with a ribcage

michaela. bookworm. cat lady. /// my stuff the kind of girl who looks for love in all the lonely places.

[wexler]

“When my mother was about 7, my grandmother locked her in the closet. So, after my mom had been in the closet for about an hour, she asked my grandmother for a glass of water. My grandmother, naturally, said ‘Why?’ and my mother said ‘Because I’ve spit all over your dresses and now I’ve run out of spit and I wanna spit all over your shoes.’ These are the people I hail from.” — Carrie Fisher

[lindsayslohan]

What are the important rules you live by? Be kind. Don’t hurt other people. It’s all the sort of Christian ethics stuff I thought was bullshit when I was a kid. No, it turns out it’s not bullshit. Tell the truth, be kind, all that corny stuff.

[louisfeatharry]

SUPPORT ‘JUST HOLD ON’ BY STEVE AOKI & LOUIS TOMLINSON

Buy: iTunes (US) / Amazon (US) / Amazon (UK) / Google Play (UK) Stream: Tidal / Deezer

[rosingtyler]

rory and jess + that instrumental

[eveningflares-deactivated201903]

#clearly this is one of those things i never move on from

[pleaselikemeofficial]

[doona-baes]

Where is this coming from? What inspired you?

[yennciri]

I’m just better when we’re together

[gnossienne]

“Hineni Hineni I’m ready, my Lord.” (You Want It Darker) - Leonard Cohen (1934-2016)

[fuckyeahmrleonardcohen]

This is the only poem I can read I am the only one can write it I didn’t kill myself when things went wrong I didn’t turn to drugs or teaching I tried to sleep but when I couldn’t sleep I learned to write I learned to write what might be read on nights like this by one like me.

Leonard Cohen, “The Only Poem” (via fuckyeahmrleonardcohen)

[waitingforthatday-deactivated20]

"People are unpredictable, and democracy is insane."

Dear America,

Amidst the confusion, and despair, and disbelief, it was suggested to me by a very close friend of mine (I won’t say her name to protect her identity) (Ann. It was Ann) that perhaps a few people would enjoy hearing my thoughts on this election. So I sat down at my computer, cleared my head, and opened a document.

Then I started crying. So I had some hot chocolate, and my close friend (Ann) rubbed my back for a while, and I got myself together, and sat down. And started crying. Then more Ann comforting me, and more hot chocolate, and back and forth like that for about six hours or so, the chain of hot-chocolate-and-back-rubs only interrupted briefly when I had to run to the store for more hot chocolate packets (“Just give me all of them, all the boxes,” I remember saying, through tears, to a very scared stockroom boy) and now I am ready to go.

When I was in fourth grade, my teacher Mrs. Kolphner taught us a social studies lesson. The 17 students in our class were introduced to two fictional candidates: a smart if slightly bookish-looking cartoon tortoise named Greenie, and a cool-looking jaguar named Speedy. Rick Dissellio read a speech from Speedy, in which he promised that if elected he would end school early, have extra recess, and provide endless lunches of chocolate pizzandy. (A local Pawnee delicacy at the time: deep fried pizza where the crust was candy bars.) Then I read a speech from Greenie, who promised to go slow and steady, think about the problems of our school, and try her best to solve them in a way that would benefit the most people. Then Mrs. Kolphner had us vote on who should be class president.

I think you know where this is going.

Except you don’t, because before we voted, Greg Laresque asked if he could nominate a third candidate, and Mrs. Kolphner said “Sure! The essence of democracy is that everyone—“ and Greg cut her off and said, “I nominate a T. rex named Dr. Farts who wears sunglasses and plays the saxophone, and his plan is to fart as much as possible and eat all the teachers,” and everyone laughed, and before Mrs. Kolphner could blink, Dr. Farts the T. rex had been elected president of Pawnee Elementary School in a 1984 Reagan-esque landslide, with my one vote for Greenie the Tortoise playing the role of “Minnesota.”

After class I was inconsolable. Once the other kids left, Mrs. Kolphner came over and put her arm around me. She told me I had done a great job advocating for Greenie the Tortoise. Through tears I remember saying, “How good, exactly?” and she said “Very, very good,” and I said, “Good enough to —?” and she sighed and went to her desk to get one of the silver stars she gave out to kids who did a good job on something. And as I tearfully added it to my Silver Star Diary, she asked me what upset me the most.

“Greenie was the better candidate,” I said. “Greenie should have won.”

She nodded.

“I suppose that was the point of the lesson,” I said.

“Oh no,” she said. “The point of the lesson is: People are unpredictable, and democracy is insane.”

Winston Churchill once said, “Democracy is the worst form of government, except all those other forms that have been tried.” That is perhaps a pithier and better way to get my point across than that long anecdote about Mrs. Kolphner. Should I just erase all of that and start with this? Whatever. I’m pot-committed now, and is there extra caffeine in that hot chocolate? Because my head feels like a spaceship.

The point is: People making their own decisions is, on balance, better than an autocrat making decisions for them. It’s just that sometimes those decisions are bad, or self-defeating, or maddening, and a day where you get dressed up in your best victory pantsuit and spend an ungodly amount of money decorating your house with American flags and custom-made cardboard-cutouts of suffragettes in anticipation of a glass-ceiling-shattering historical milestone ends with you getting (metaphorically) eaten by a giant farting T. rex.

Like most people, I deal with tragedy by processing the five stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. My denial over the election results was intense. My anger was (in Ron’s words) “significant.” My bargaining was short, but creative — I offered my soul and the souls of all of my friends in exchange for 60,000 more votes in Milwaukee, to any demon who cared to accept. (Tom told me it was a terrible deal, but in that moment I didn’t care.) My depression I have already mentioned. Which brings us to acceptance. And here’s what I stand on that:

No. I do not accept it.

I acknowledge that Donald Trump is the president. I understand, intellectually, that he won the election. But I do not accept that our country has descended into the hatred-swirled slop pile that he lives in. I reject out of hand the notion that we have thrown up our hands and succumbed to racism, xenophobia, misogyny, and crypto-fascism. I do not accept that. I reject that. I fight that. Today, and tomorrow, and every day until the next election, I reject and fight that story.

I work hard and I form ideas and I meet and talk to other people who feel like me, and we sit down and drink hot chocolate (I have plenty) and we plan. We plan like mofos. We figure out how to fight back, and do good in this infuriating world that constantly wants to bend toward the bad. And we will be kind to each other, and supportive of each other’s ideas, and we will do literally anything but accept this as our fate.

And let me say something to the young girls who are reading this. Hi, girls. On behalf of the grown-ups of America who care about you and your futures, I am awfully sorry about how miserably we screwed this up. We elected a giant farting T. rex who does not like you, or care about you, or think about you, unless he is scanning your bodies with his creepy T. rex eyes, or trying to physically grab you like a toy his daddy got him (or would have, if his daddy had loved him). (Sorry, that was a low blow.) (Actually, not sorry, I’m pissed, and I’m on a roll, so zip it, super-ego!)

Our president-Elect is everything you should abhor and fear in a male role model. He has spent his life telling you, and girls and women like you, that your lives are valueless except as sexual objects. He has demeaned you, and belittled you, and put you in a little box to be looked at and not heard. It is your job, and the job of girls and women like you, to bust out.

You are going to run this country, and this world, very soon. So you will not listen to this man, or the 75-year-old, doughy-faced, gray-haired nightmare men like him, when they try to tell you where to stand or how to behave or what you can and cannot do with your own bodies, or what you should or should not think with your own minds. You will not be cowed or discouraged by his stream of retrogressive babble. You won’t have time to be cowed, because you will be too busy working and learning and communing with other girls and women like you. And when the time comes, you will effortlessly flick away his miserable, petty, misogynistic worldview like a fly on your picnic potato salad.

He is the present, sadly, but he is not the future. You are the future. Your strength is a million times his. Your power is a billion times his. We will acknowledge this result, but we will not accept it. We will overcome it, and we will defeat it.

Now find your team, and get to work.

Love,

Leslie

—written by a member of the Parks and Recreation writing staff

Leslie Knope works for the US Department of the Interior, Midwest Branch, in her hometown of Pawnee, Indiana. And she believes that optimism defeats pessimism. She asks that, if you have the means, you kindly make a donation to the ACLU, the International Rescue Committee, or the charity of your choice, to help the country and those most in need.

[silvertons]

[Sherlock:] The reason I refused to accept any official police credit is that once I allow it, there’s no official line as to where it stops. And then soon I begin to eclipse the whole department. And resentment and its inevitable harm to working relationships quickly follows. The work we do is too important to jeopardize.

[Sherlock:] I think I could have done a better job explaining why it’s important. At least explaining why it’s important to me. When you and I first started I quickly recognized your merits, both as a detective in your own right and in that you facilitated my own process. I’m better at the work I do because of you. But over the years the relative importance of those two values has flipped. I now value the work that we do, first and foremost, because I do it with you. So if at times I seem overprotective of the system that we’ve built, if I worry that the resentments of others might disrupt it, I have good reason.

[Gregson:] I say all this because I want you to know what gets me out of bed in the morning. What gets me back here, at work, doing the job, every day. You guys do. All of you. This squad is the finest group of men and women I’ve ever had the honor to serve with. And that’s not just a line. It’s what our clearance rate says. That’s why it was important for me that you all got recognized today. Because the extraordinary work you do, day in, day out, it amazes me. This team, this family – you guys are what keep me going.

                                      Congratulations on 100 episodes, Elementary!

[onceland]

[claudia-kishi]

[doctorwhogeneration]

[missezramay]

Gilmore Girls: A Year In The Life | Netflix Promo

[trainpassenger-blog]

“Freddie is one of those characters you’d like to be more like, in real life. We’re similar in that we’re both a bit obsessive, but he’s braver, bolder. He has absolute courage in his convictions. He’s not a saint, but at the centre of him is something very admirable. I think it would be lovely to have that conviction, that very clear belief structure. I guess I wish I had that.” (x)

– Ben Whishaw

[timotay-chalamet]

“Twenty-Two” tackles important issues regarding veteran’s rights and hidden trauma without reducing them to afterschool special pabulum. Much of the credit goes to Falk’s writing and direction, which is both deeply empathetic and unsparing, but the star is obviously Desmin Borges, who provides a 24-minute tour-de-force performance that rivals anything else on TV. Borges has always been a standout on You’re The Worst, but here, he’s given a platform to showcase every facet of Edgar’s personality, from bone-deep fear to uncontrollable rage, all while tactically reacting to the external paranoia that occupies his life. “Twenty-Two” is a difficult episode to watch and it’s because Borges’ vulnerability stays on the surface the entire time, an impressive feat in it of itself.