
ellievsbear
Show & Tell
d e v o n
will byers stan first human second
occasionally subtle

Love Begins
Game of Thrones Daily

Kiana Khansmith
h
Jules of Nature

★
wallacepolsom
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
RMH
Claire Keane
No title available

oozey mess
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Three Goblin Art
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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@leslieleslie
Kids are FUCKING MAGICAL, come ON.
Apple- and Pear-Stuffed Brioche
TLC - All That (Theme Song)
Tonight it was just me and the baby and I kept looking at him and getting really sad. He’s becoming more of a person and I know to say I feel a little bad about that is so morose it’s funny, but I do. He is starting to get preferences and to want things, more and more, beyond food. He’s wildly happy most of the time but sometimes he will just stare quietly and look sad if I ignore him and I want to cry. If I put him down for a minute to pee or to get a glass of water or god forbid, eat a meal, he gets so spastic and scrambly when I pick him up, his arms tight around my neck, all of him gasping and kicking. Babies do not “play it cool,” haha. Dustin thinks he is learning to miss me, though everything seems to say that he won’t develop that for a couple more months (separation anxiety). “But remember, our baby is a genius.”
My son loves me so much, is what I’m saying, and it’s making me sad, reflexively. I love him too, and it’s like, Oh god, ok, all this and love, too? Just when I thought there wasn’t room for anything else. Dustin and were talking about baby love the other day, and I was trying to say how it feels very close to romantic love for me, minus the sexual attraction obviously, but like the physical need to be close to / affectionate with him is more similar than I would have guessed. The idea that I once felt this with my own mother is wild to think about, and really sad because where is that now? I have faint memories of loving the way she smelled, too, and of wanting to rub my face on her upper arm, or remarking on how soft her skin was. Does she still feel that way with me? I can’t even think about it.
As the baby moves from alien intruder who could slip into death at any moment to person who is funny and needy and beautiful and charming and alive, the intimacy is intrusive and surprising. Sometimes he looks at me across the chasm between his barely-there personhood and my own, and I am shocked. And a little creeped out, to be honest, like he must be a ghost or God or some universal something or other, communing with me on the changing table.
It’s been wild to experience new love alongside the, for me, intense personal transformative shit of becoming a mother. They should be one and the same I guess and maybe they are. But on the one hand I feel this wild desire to be alone and to think and to write. I feel a stronger Self than I ever have, almost as a defensive move I suspect, as I feel like the world wants me to give it up. Catholics talk about “dying to self” when you get married, and certainly when you have kids. I am worried someone is going to snatch my Self out from under me, so I’m scrambling and kicking my legs and wrapping my arms around its neck.
And then my baby is reclining in his Boppy and staring at me and his face breaks out into a smile and we laugh together and I think, Oh fuck, dude, you are really in for it, out here with us. I am so so sorry.
Wow this is great.
THIS
This is how you feminist ally.
What a nice gif set.
Hey
I'm baaaack!
We spent five months at Harper High School in Chicago, where last year alone 29 current and recent students were shot. 29. We went to get a sense of what it means to live in the midst of all this gun violence, how teens and adults navigate a world of funerals and Homecoming dances. We found so many incredible and surprising stories, this show is a two-parter; you can listen to Part Two here.
Just as with winning the lottery, or becoming famous- there is no manual for becoming a woman, even though the stakes are so high. God knows, when I was 13, I tried to find one. You can read about other people's experiences on the matter- by way of trying to cram, in advance, for an exam-but I found that this is, in itself, problematic. For throughout history, you can read stories of women who- against all the odds- got being a woman right, but ended up being compromised, unhappy, hobbled, or ruined, because all around them society was still wrong. Show a girl a pioneering hero- Sylvia Plath, Dorothy Parker, Frida Kahlo, Cleopatra, Boudicca, Joan of Arc- and you also, more often than not, show a girl a woman who was eventually crushed. Your hard won triumphs can be wholly negated if you live in a climate where your victories are seen as threatening, incorrect, distasteful, or most crucially of all, for a teenage girl- simply uncool. Few girls would choose to be right- right, down into their clever, brilliant bones- but lonely.
Caitlin Moran, How to be a Woman
Hey Tumblr
Y'all still out there? Thinking about reviving this thing.
Bottle this: Peach Vodka Lemonade.
The first time you fall in love, it’s such a transcendental feeling, you know? It’s like eating pizza-flavored ice cream. Your brain can’t even process that level of joy. And love makes people do crazy things, like kill people, or shop at Crate & Barrel. It makes us all a little delusional. I think our whole lives, no matter how low our self-esteem gets, there’s some part of us that thinks, ‘I have a secret special skill that no one knows about, and if they knew, they’d be amazed.’ And eventually, we meet someone who’s like, ‘You have a secret special skill!’ And you’re like, ‘I know! So do you!’ And they’re like, ‘I know!’ And then you’re like, ‘We should eat pizza ice cream together.’ And that’s what love is. It’s this mountain of pizza ice cream and delusion.
Mike Birbiglia, Sleepwalk With Me (via likeijustsaid)
I love Halloween!
When I am lonely for boys it’s their bodies I miss. I study their hands lifting the cigarettes in the darkness of the movie theaters, the slope of a shoulder, the angle of a hip. Looking at them sideways, I examine them in different lights. My love for them is visual: that is the part of them I would like to possess. Don’t move, I think. Stay like that, let me have that.
Margaret Atwood (via belle-de-nuit)
I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp, and as a gasping person loves a glass of brandy to calm their nerves, and as a glass of brandy loves to shatter on the floor, and as the noise of glass shattering loves to make someone else gasp, and as someone else gasping loves a nearby desk to lean against, even if leaning against it presses a lever that loves to open a drawer and reveal a secret compartment. I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and until all the secrets have gone gasping into the world.
Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters
Well I got two hours of sleep today, that should be enough. Now I'll just sit on the porch and listen to rap music. (Taken with Instagram)