coool.

[passthecavasier]

The Pacific Northwest is fucking Perfect

[bad-intentixns]

Holy shit

[aoca]

https://www.instagram.com/p/4tMhvgwgFi/

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

“You can’t get much done in life if you only work on days when you feel good.”

— Jerry West

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

“It takes a level of self love, of dedication and determination to live your greatest life. So, look within. Look at every area of your life and ask yourself these questions: Am I on course? Am I growing mentally, emotionally and spiritually? Anything that is blocking that, anything that is preventing you from living your greatest life, make the tough decision to let it go.”

— Unknown

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

“But things work out, you know. Even if it doesn’t feel OK for a long time, or even if it feels like things will never be OK again, (things) work out in the end.”

— Lauren Morrill

[hanagetsfit]

[turntboyz]

[itsbritneyjae]

[caribbean-blue]

[coolhotdad]

my perfect crime? I memorize the entirety of the macy’s store inventory. I then go on aliexpress.com and find exact replicas of every single purse in the store. I break in at 3am, and replace every purse with a cheaper version of the purse. I take my real purses home and open up an online store on the darknet featuring fake purses. I then sell these real purses as fake purses, making it so that when the feds catch on to my antics, they spend countless years trying to figure out who can replicate purses this well, and who is selling them. Soon an entire division of the FBI is dedicated to finding me and figuring out how my “fake” purses appear to be real. 45 years later they finally trace my ip address and break into my villa in texas and shoot me right in the leg when i attempt to flee. While this would normally not be a fatal wound, due to my constant devotion to my online fake real purse storefront i have suffered an iron deficiency for 35 years. My blood can’t clot and I start to bleed out. Turns out the woman who shot me was a girl who i made out with once in college, and she holds my dying body in her arms and asks me how my fake purses were so real. I spend the last moments of my fleeting life telling her about how every five years i break into a different Macy’s and replace all the purses, and that the purses I have been selling online for a severely discounted price were actually all real, and I have been doing this purely for the gag of it all. When my former college girlfriend gets home from work after rightfully murdering me for my crimes, she goes into her walk in closet, looks at the 13 gucci purses she owns, and realizes that they’re all fakes.

[youstoodmeupforayardsale-mo-blog]

this passed the bechdel test

[thebeginningandend]

lmao i’m now a volunteer for my university’s nightline service. a service I should probably be using myself

[thebeginningandend]

recently quit volunteering for this service because my dr basically signposted me to services exactly like it. ask me if i’ve taken on any of the suggestions he had for me.

[sincerie]

[streetstyleplatform]

Street Style Platform - Fashion Inspiration

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

What to do when you lack discipline

1. Forgive yourself. You aren’t perfect. No one is. Recognise that that beating yourself up will only make things worse. It’s better to forgive yourself and simply move on.

2. Focus on motivation. Without motivation, you can’t do anything. Hence maintaining motivation is the key concept here. When things get tough, remind yourself of why you want to do this – for motivation is more powerful than self-discipline.

3. Make it easy. Discipline is tough so remove some obstacles. For example, if you’re having a hard time exercising, make it super easy, by only exercising for 5 minutes. If you can do that for 30 days in a row, you’ll have developed an exercise habit!

4. Focus on enjoyment. It’s hard to push yourself — and to have self-discipline — when you hate doing something, or you see it as a drag. So do whatever you can to create a sense of fun. For example, if you don’t like exercise, find some good music, or a workout partner, and focus on that part of the activity.

5. Repeat. You’ll almost inevitably slip up from time to time, no matter how good, and committed, you are. Just get up, get going, and keeping marching straight ahead.

Source: http://zenhabits.net/6-small-things-you-can-do-when-you-lack-discipline/ (Adapted)

[bills-skarsgards]

When Gen X Hollywood Was Young: Never-Before-Seen Photos By Randall Slavin

[rnbgifs]

[brutereason]

Emotional labor is often invisible to men because a lot of it happens out of their sight. Emotional labor is when my friends and I carefully coordinate to make sure that nobody who’s invited to the party has drama with anyone else at the party, and then everyone comes and has a great time and has no idea how much thought went into it. Emotional labor is when I have to cope, again, with the distress I feel at having to clean myself in a dirty bathroom or cook my food in a dirty kitchen because my male roommate didn’t think it was important to clean up his messes. Emotional labor is having to start the 100th conversation with my male roommate about how I need my living space to be cleaner. Emotional labor is reminding my male roommate the next day that he agreed to clean up his mess but still hasn’t. Emotional labor is reassuring him that it’s okay, I’m not mad, I understand that he’s had a very busy stressful week. Emotional labor is not telling him that I’ve had a very busy stressful week, too, and his fucking mess made it even worse. Emotional labor is reassuring my partner over and over that yes, I love him, yes, I find him attractive, yes, I truly want to be with him, because he will not do the work of developing his self-esteem and relies on me to bandage those constantly-reopening wounds. Emotional labor is letting my partner know that I didn’t like what he did sexually last night, because he never asked me first if I wanted to do that. Emotional labor is reassuring him that, no, it’s okay, I’m not mad, I just wanted him to know for next time, yes, of course I love him, no, this doesn’t mean I’m not attracted to him, I’m just not interested in that sort of sex. Emotional labor is not being able to rely on him to reassure me that it’s not my fault that I didn’t like the sex, because this conversation has turned into my reassuring him, again. Emotional labor is when my friend messages me once every few weeks with multiple paragraphs about his life, which I listen to and empathize with. Afterwards, he thanks me for being “such a good listener.” He asks how my life has been, and I say, “Well, not bad, but school has been so stressful lately…” He says, “Oh, that sucks! Well, anyway, I’d better get to bed, but thanks again for listening!” Emotional labor is when my friend messages me and, with no trigger warning and barely any greeting, launches into a story involving self-harm or suicide or something else of that sort because “you know about this stuff.” Emotional labor was almost all of my male friends in high school IMing me to talk about how the girls all go for the assholes. Emotional labor is when my partners decide they don’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore, but rather than directly communicating this to me, they start ignoring me or being mean for weeks until I have to ask what’s going on, hear that “I guess I’m just not into you anymore,” and then have to be the one to suggest breaking up. For extra points, then I have to comfort them about the breakup. Emotional labor is setting the same boundary over and over, and every time he says, “I’m sorry, I know you already told me this, I guess I’d just forgotten.” Emotional labor is being asked to completely explain and justify my boundaries. “I mean, that’s totally valid and I will obviously respect that, I just really want to understand, you know?” Emotional labor is hiding the symptoms of mental illness, pretending my tears are from allergies, laughing too loudly at his jokes, not because I’m just in principle unwilling to open up about it, but because I know that he can’t deal with my mental illness and that I’ll just end up having to comfort him because my pain is too much for him to bear. Emotional labor is managing my male partners’ feelings around how often we have sex, and soothing their disappointment when they expected to have sex (even though I never said we would) and then didn’t, and explaining why I didn’t want to have sex this time, and making sure we “at least cuddle a little before bed” even though after all of this, to be quite honest, the last thing I fucking want is to touch him.

Emotional Labor: What It Is and How To Do It (via brutereason)