Coffee Stains and Windowpanes

I just want my uke

[purby-purble-deactivated2020050]

I’d make you coffee on a rainy morning.

[disturbingly-silent]

Rhys: I don't think I can manipulate, mansplain, manwhore my way out of this one

Cassian, sharpening his swords: manslaughter it is

[coffeecupsandbookmarks]

[radiofreederry]

[niktipolos]

“I cleaned my apartment when no one was coming over, and cooked elaborate meals with no guests in mind but myself. I began to learn to say “no” to things, to define space for myself. I considered decisions longer, and hurt people less. With no one else’s needs into which to escape, it becomes much more difficult to skid through life on self-delusion and comfortable ignorance. Living alone is a confrontation with the mirror, a removal, if only for certain hours of the day, from the social contract, outside the systems of manners that grow up around women like strangling vines. It is becoming the witch in the forest, powerful and watchful and silent, setting visitors on edge. […] The things I miss could be seen as childish, a state of being in which I was never obligated to consider anyone’s needs other than my own. Women are pushed out of childhood so quickly, shoved without ceremony into the heavy social obligations of adulthood. Living alone is a reminder that we can make our bodies antisocial, hoarding our selfishness and our silence. Loneliness and solitude are privileges of thoughtless and full-throated adulthood traditionally handed to men and kept from women. They are the strange and rich pleasures of the world beyond the social, beyond the structures of home and family.”

— Helena Fitzgerald.

[bailmeout]

tyler joseph // can’t help falling in love

[yellowcephalopod]

[exusemedidistutter]

[ellefanning2001]

good morning. love my room.

[pettycentral]

[tamascotchi-deactivated20190101]

oh my god i'm cleaning out my desk and i found my first phone

it was a fucking house phone that i was so stoked to have because it was mine that i kept in my own room and i cannot believe technology has progressed at the speed of FUCKING light to the point where this is a hilarious artifact to have had in like 6th grade and now theres kindergarteners with iphones

[princess-peridot]

How did you know if you dialed the right number

[tamascotchi-deactivated20190101]

each button made a different tone so the numbers you dialed a lot became a subconscious melody in your head and if you hit the wrong button by accident it would sound like a wrong note in a song you know by heart

[teaboot]

i can’t beleive that is a legitimate question in my lifetime

[notevensneaky]

Other acceptable answer: the wrong person answers on the other end.

[propitlikeithot]

Another acceptable answer: the robot lady comes on the phone and tells you number doesn’t exist.

[niggazinmoscow]

This thread has all the answers

[purevain]

undefined

[wonderdave]

The whole Pepsi commercial thing reminded me that people always mis-remember the famous flower in the gun barrel photo as being a young woman. It wasn’t. The photo, taken by Bernie Boston, is of George Edgerly Harris III better known by his stage name Hibiscus. He was a member of the San Francisco based radical gay liberation theater troupe the Cockettes. He died of AIDS in 1982 at the time AIDS was still referred to by the name GRID which stood for Gay Related Immuno-Deficiency. The photo was taken at a protest at the Pentagon. 

[thecringeandwincefactory-deacti]

I had no idea who he was, thank you.

[jimmythejiver]

This is one example of the Mandela Effect phenomena, where an iconic moment is reenacted with a hippy woman so many times that people think that’s the story and thus another gay man is written out of history. Thanks for the photo.

[kristina-meister-deactivated202]

I had no idea. Wow.

[phaxes]

via weheartit

[parkchanwoohoo]

[marzipanandminutiae]

A. imagine your otp

B. dear gods this country has massive issues

[cl0udyd4z3]

I’ve been looking for this post for ages

[portraitofemmy]

listen, I’ve read enough fanfic to know that they’re not getting divorced, but it’ll take about 35k of pining to figure that out.

[did-you-know]

The smell of an old book is the smell of its death. The scent is caused by paper, ink and adhesives breaking down. As a book’s organic compounds degrade, they release chemicals into the air that we interpret as a combination of grass, vanilla, and almond. Books also hang on to odors that tell the story of their history– like smoke, flowers pressed between pages, or water damage. Source Source 2 Source 3

[mulandaily]

— requested by manbunjon

[sweaterkittensahoy]

This is a fucking stunning use of lyrics and images. I gasped the first time I saw it.