|east coasters:||i drove through 17 states on the way to work|
|west coasters:||i have been traveling in this desert for 49 years. generations have died. children have been born. when will i make it to the promised land|
|Midwesterners:||I haven't left a 20 mile radius in 2 years|
|floridians:||please help me there are so many oranges they are attacki-|
things life is too short for:
- hating yourself
- pretending to laugh at “jokes” that are actually just bigoted statements
- not singing along to your favorite songs
- waiting hours to text someone back just to look cool
- bad coffee
- bad books
- mean people
- body shaming
- letting other people dictate your life
- larry’s storyline
I might never haunt your dreams again, but every so often you cross paths with me in mine and I wonder if you can’t forget me, the way I can’t forget you.
gluten free person: excuse me, but do you have any gf options?
"if you’re straight and white tumblr will lynch you~"
fun fact!! there are actual places in the real irl world today (2014!) where if you are anything other than straight and white you will actually get lynched! literally! they will literally kill you!! isn’t that wild??
At Stanford there was this Professor who was a total bitch and she taught British Literature, which was cool. Except she taught only her opinions of the books and it didn’t help me as a writer. I went to school to learn new things to improve my craft, not have someone else’s opinions carved onto my forehead.
So anyway, for our final project, she asked us to write a ten page paper on why the color symbolism in Othello was so significant. I did some research and it turned out that she did her entire graduate thesis on this very subject. I was mad. This wasn’t teaching, this was boosting her ego. SO I wrote a ten page essay on why color symbolism in Othello wasn’t significant, satirizing it to the point of no return, saying that her opinion was an opinion and shouldn’t be taken seriously.
SHe failed me, needless to say. So in retaliation, I responded by baking a batch of brownies laced with weed and laxatives and delivered them myself to the professor hours before her big graduation speech. I told her that it was a peace offering, my way of apologizing and asking if I could do anything to fix my grade.
She refused to fix my grade.
In the end, she shit herself on stage.
I didn’t regret it.