hating you, specifically.

[elevenletterwords]

the girls who get it, get it.

[elevenletterwords]

Reality TV is actually just Shakespeare.

I put before the court:

these are the only 3 i though of, but admittedly I have a pretty surface level understanding of both, do you guys have any other ones??

[clonerightsagenda]

Reread Doomsday Book (oof) and realized after the reminders that the net won't let anything through that might change history, the reason Kirvin was allowed through with all her anachronisms and babbling in Modern English was because every single person she met was going to die anyway.

[elevenletterwords]

Falling in love for 5 minutes

Is the new thing I'm trying. Well actually I started it back in the fall, unwillingly, when a co-worker and I took the same train after work.

It was a Saturday night, so our usual rush hour commute towards manhattan was much more crowded than usual, and thanks to our timing we missed a much emptier train car at the front. Forced to squeeze in with our backpacks and puffer coats amongst the weekend warriors on their way to the West Village.

We decided to race up to the front cars at the next stop, too look for a chance to sit down after our 12 hour work day.

And as I giggled like a child, sprinting on the platform, behind a man in his 40s who's last name I can never remember, I let myself pretend for a moment that this is my life.

My world is not full of heartbreak and rejection. No, for 5 minutes, my life is giggly jogs between train cars, behind someone who wants me to run with him, and would hold the door for me if I was too slow.

Still no chairs open up here, but I'm unable to hold back my smile as I lean on the upper railing, resuming whatever chat we were having about the new Alien movie.

I decide to let myself be in love for the 5 minutes we ride on the train together, and it's peaceful. Knowing it's finite makes me unafraid of the weight of the word and the feeling.

It's something I haven't felt in a long time, so maybe, for now, small doses are safer.

[ameliesaysshoo]

When Adam bit the apple he did it because he trusted Eve. Because he loved her. Adam bit into the apple because the woman he loved told him to, no matter what God said. No matter the rules of heaven. What's heaven to a woman's love anyway? What's God to your wife? The first sins of humanity, were trusting others. Eve trusted a snake, Adam trusted Eve, and I trust you. Maybe that's a sin, just like the first couple. Maybe everyone's right about us and we're sinners and we offend God. But like I said, what's God to a woman's love anyway? What has heaven got that I can't find sitting next to you on a cool autumn morning?

[pfaugh]

women should just kill god already

[heliotropist]

Interesting interaction on Facebook today.

In one of my quilt groups a member posted some pictures of how she made ruffled aprons for her granddaughters, and then was stumped on what to make for her grandsons. Oh, she thought, custom pillows!

Gentle reader, I saw red. The backstory here is that quilters are overwhelmingly white retired women, and they (or at least the ones who join FB quilting groups) tend to have some VERY old-fashioned views on men and women and girls and boys. (Lots of posts like "what ideas do you have for boy quilts?" and the comments will be full of pictures of quilts with tractors on them.) So I thought, I guess the message here is that girls are supposed to be working in the kitchen while the boys lounge around on their fancy pillows waiting to be served. I was ready to let her have it in the comments and risk getting booted from the group. But first I looked in the comments to see how the post was being received.

I was blown away by the comments. Comment after comment saying things like, "those are lovely, I make aprons for all my grandsons and they love to wear them when they help out in the kitchen!" "I made custom aprons for all my sons, and then more for their sons when they got old enough! They all love them!"

Then, after all these comments, here comes OP with one of her own: "I think next year I'll make custom pillows for my granddaughters and ruffled aprons for my grandsons." My comment: "That's a great idea!"

Sometimes people surprise you.

And sometimes people just need a little nudge, not a flamethrower.

[the-haiku-bot]

And sometimes people

just need a little nudge, not

a flamethrower.

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

[elevenletterwords]

Is it normal to feel like you grew up in a museum?

No matter how grainy or vintage looking the photo may eventually come out, there’s no way to communicate the vintage smell of the college bookstore, the hollow feeling of the floor beneath me in my favorite coffee shop in the world. The friendly, small town twang of the voices of the employees.

But I take the picture anyway, ISO 800, because it's winter and cloudy and I don't want to risk losing any details.

Sometimes this town makes me feels like I was raised inside a museum.  But maybe that’s the way everyone feels about their hometown. 

Porta 800 x Olympus OM-G. Christmas 2024, Athens Ohio

[bassguitarinablackt-shirt]

i dont care what type of love it is all i know is that i love you

[elevenletterwords]

[rhynee]

the edit itself

this edit is getting taken down from tiktok every time someone reuploads it, its straight up censorship at this point

Im not even american but im having a great time with this

DONT LET THIS DIE

credit to miraculousgastropod for the original

[randomenby0ntumbir]

fuck it this is too cool not to reblog twice

[elevenletterwords]

Trying to fall in love at the Natural History Museum.

I'll meet you in the butterfly room, The Vivarium. We'll share a smile over the over-excited 1st graders ahead of us, trying so hard to contain their eagerness, to be still enough so the butterflies will get close to them.

Or maybe under the Blue Whale, where, before I can stop myself, I'll smile too wide and say "handsome little guy huh?" gesturing to a particularly toothy variety of luminous fish.

Or maybe we'll meet on the Cosmic Pathway, where even though the Big Bang ended 10 minutes ago, and a new audience is coming out of the theater, I'm lingering only 500 million years down the path.

I hope you'll think I'm smarter than I am, taking so much time, but the truth is I'm still trying to parse out what a quasar actually is, or how the Hubble telescope can expose an image for 130 hours if it's moving at 17,000 mph. Maybe you'll know the answers, or maybe we'll just stroll down the spiral together, for 13 billion years, and you'll note the wistful irony that the youngest photographs are of the oldest galaxies, and vice versa.

Maybe we'll keep each other company all the way down to the insect room, where you'll marvel at what we must look like to something so small.

Realizing we have only just enough time, I'll put my hand on your arm (I hope that's okay) and say "you have to come see this"

And we'll rush back upstairs, just in time for the last showing of Invisible Worlds, pausing only briefly so you can tell me those dart frogs probably aren't actually poisonous (their diet in captivity prevents them from producing venom) and there's no time to ask a follow up, but god I hope you have more frog facts.

We'll round the corner and the arhythmic horn sounds will start to blend together into a song, and suddenly under the projectors, we'll feel so incredibly small and massive, all at once.

The lights from the ceiling will float across your smile, and you'll consider your abstract, theoretical-but-real connection to every other living thing on and beyond this planet. I'll try to do the same, but maybe I'll spend more time considering my abstract, theoretical-but-even-realer connection to the new stranger-but-not-stranger I'm standing next to.

Maybe you'll shift your weight and when our shoulders touch I'll thank god for the Big Bang and my parents and the A train, and everything else that got me here.

And then, years from now, if I'm lucky, I'll get to say we met in the place where time began.

@amnhnyc

[elevenletterwords]

One thing I just thought of as I continue to deconstruct the Manic Pixie Dream Girl thing; I realized maybe I felt (or maybe still feel) like I had to be kind of ethereal, quirky or even fleeting, because I wasn't pretty enough to be loved otherwise.

Like maybe the only time I'm beautiful is when it follows the word tragically

[zie1]

Hey Ohioans of Tumblr - actual Ohioans, not "everywhere is Ohio" people.

Governor Mike Dewine just signed House Bill 183, banning transgender students from using bathrooms that align to their gender. This bill has not passed yet, and is expected to be challenged by the ACLU, but in the meantime, your asses need to be writing to the governor's office to complain.

https://governor.ohio.gov/help-center

^ go here and submit a complaint. Make sure to name House Bill 183. This submission will be public record, so no Tumblr horseshit meme submissions - complain like you're an Ohio taxpayer who is pissed off at the continual waste of YOUR tax money on discriminatory bills that don't create jobs or lower costs for Ohioans.

Side note: if you live in New Richmond or Galena, your fuckhead republican reps are the ones who originally submitted the bill, so you damn sure better tear their asses up with a call or email as well.

Oh, and consider donating to the ACLU of Ohio, it helps them litigate the shit out of Ohio for this transphobic nonsense.

It's a shitty red state and fuckhead republicans are gonna do evil shit, but every little bit helps.

[elevenletterwords]

Just sent this to my mom, an Ohio taxpayer and former public school teacher.

"You may not care about politics, but politics care about you."

[elevenletterwords]

My 60 year old Mother is absolutely addicted to Tik Tok and it really bums me out. It has maybe been the biggest motivator to me to delete the app and honestly stay off instagram as much as I can as well.

The words 'tiktok shop' were particularly grating to my ears even it's early introduction from just from Gen Z influencers, but hearing it praised by own Mom?

All the years of "no phones at the dinner table" feel so far away these days, as she props her phone up, places her airpods in, and scrolls away. Whether at home or out at a restaurant, whether it's just the two of us or a whole family affair. If the conversation of the table no longer suits her, she quickly chooses her phone over us entirely.

To her credit I didn't see the phone make an appearance at our Thanksgiving dinner, so maybe some things are still sacred enough.

[elevenletterwords]

I finally understand the Ted Mosbys

of the world. And the Carrie Bradshaws and the Bridget Joneses.

I used to think their hopeless romanticism bordered too closely to desperation. I judged them for turning over every rock to look for love. For constantly embarrassing themselves in the name of finding 'the one'.

And now I'm 27. The same age as Ted in season one of HIMYM. I live in NYC, with my best friend from college, I have a career, an okay apartment, and meaningful friendships. And all I can think about is the love that I don't have.

Longing is so time consuming. It fills my head in every silence. It stings deep when I walk alone through the farmers market. I have no one to yearn for, so I yearn a little bit for every person I meet. I fall in love for 5 minutes and then move on to the next. Hoping one of them will ever make the first move, too many rejections have left me too scared.

Sometimes I convince myself that intellectualizing my loneliness is the same thing as feeling it.

[pithia]

It doesn't matter that she shouldn't, that she never would. What matters is that she could, if she wanted. The power to hurt is a kind of wealth.

—from The Power by Naomi Alderman

[starry-eyed-darling]

"Gender is a shell game. What is a man? Whatever a woman isn't. What is a woman? Whatever a man is not. Tap on it and it's hollow. Look under the shells: it's not there."

from The Power by Naomi Alderman

[official-cisphobe]

here's a random word generator--whatever word it gives you is now the thing you are the deity of

[elevenletterwords]

Diety of No.

God and it's so true.