“We’re so distracted by how things end, we usually forget how beautiful the beginning was.”
— Lamiya Waheed

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@meowingitout
“We’re so distracted by how things end, we usually forget how beautiful the beginning was.”
— Lamiya Waheed
let’s go on late night drives listening to the songs you showed me
MILK AND HONEY pt.3
this was the kind of shit we needed out of 2020
Date a cutie who calls you both dude and babe
Robert McGinnis
How clearly does the point need to be made that "police officer" is just a fucking job, one with minimal training and minimal monitoring. It is NOT some kind of promise of honesty, truth, or heroism. It is a bunch of assistant managers with extremely powerful weapons. IF you can understand "pedophiles choose to be priests and teachers so they can get to children", IF you understand "arsonists choose to be firefighters so they can be present at their own crimes" - then you can ALSO understand "people who are bigoted, violent, and power-hungry choose to be cops for the opportunities the job presents" and you can ALSO understand "any occupational culture that chooses fraternity over justice - and the allowance of violence in the name of a unified front - is therefore siding with their worst representatives"
The media is treating trump like they always have, like their meal ticket. A pathetic clown in a pathetic circus that pays the bills for 24h news channels
“One of my earliest memories is sitting in a sand box and watching the other kids play. I could see their mouths moving but couldn’t hear what they were talking about. They seemed so happy. And I desperately wanted to participate. But my deafness kept me in a glass cage. I was never able to verbally speak. And whenever I tried to reach out, I’d be forgotten quickly. During recess I’d sit alone and read my books, because it hurt too much to look at the other kids. In high school I had an interpreter who predicted I’d never marry. She said that disabled people were too much of a burden for abled people. It was a casual remark for her, but I never forgot it. And the few flings I had as a teenager only reinforced that belief. None of the guys I dated learned sign language. They didn’t even try. I think they viewed dating a deaf girl as more of a novelty than anything. And every time it didn’t work out, I was left feeling lonelier. I went to college two hours away. Which wasn’t far, but it was far for me. And I first met Stuart in my education class. He tried to say ‘hello’ that very first day, but I accidentally ignored him. I think he figured out the reason once my interpreter showed up. But he kept smiling at me, and a few days later he slid me a photo with a note on the back and his email address. I spent a lot of time looking at that photo, waffling back and forth about whether I should contact him. But finally I decided there was nothing to lose. We began spending time together outside of class. We’d communicate by writing back and forth in a notebook. I learned all about his life. And he learned about mine. After a few months of this, I started to have hope, maybe he was actually interested in my thoughts. Maybe he liked me for me. One night we were watching a scary movie in my dorm room. We were writing back and forth, laughing at the cheesy scenes, when suddenly Stuart’s face grew serious. He wrote that he needed to tell me something. My heart sank. I thought: This is where he tells me that I’m a lot of fun, but my deafness is a dealbreaker. But he looked me in the eyes, took a deep breath, and haltingly began to sign: ‘Will. You. Be. My. Girlfriend?’”
“I’m not totally mad at you. I’m just sad. You’re all locked up in that little world of yours, and when I try knocking on the door, you just sort of look up for a second and go right back inside.”
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