Annaverve |
Magpie Syndrome: An irrational affinity for objects, photographs, illustrations, paintings, posters, thoughts, designs, books covers, comics, quotes, tunes, poems, videos... When any such highly interesting thing is seen by the sufferer it often may induce a compulsive need to claim it and several minutes of staring at said object on the screen. Which will then lead to her pocketing the object to add to her collection on Tumblr. ***This is just a showcase for the things I fall in love with, I don't claim any ownership, to all of them, please ask me to remove what ever you feel belongs exclusively to you to display. |
(Source: mylikes.com, via tumblrgym)
how to love someone no matter what
1. You said you had depression. On the rainy days I brought an umbrella for you to walk under.
2. You had OCD. I counted all 288 heartbeats with you until we both fell asleep.
3. You had anxiety disorder. I held my breath until you finally took one.
4. When I felt sad and you couldn’t comfort me because you had Asperger’s, I understood what your shaking hands meant anyway.
5. When you were so frustrated and bored because of the ADHD, I held your face in my hands and made you look into my eyes for thirty seconds straight, until you could see how much I loved you.
6. The bipolar disorder picked you up one minute and threw you down the next. For the mania, we celebrated with cake. For the depression, I held you until it passed and you were okay again.
7. You wouldn’t eat anything for breakfast, lunch, or dinner because of the eating disorder. I fed you your favorite kind of chocolate when you were ready, bite by bite, and we went for a run afterward.
8. The door always scared you when it slammed too hard because of the PTSD; I covered the edge with rubber so it wouldn’t bang against the wall so loudly.
9. Your self-destructive tendencies made it hard to breathe sometimes, so I hid every needle, razor, and pair of scissors in the house, then made you pinch me as hard as you could very time you had the urge to hurt yourself.
10. Despite everything, I still loved you more than I’d ever loved anyone else in the entire world.
(via tumblrgym)
(Source: man-of-prose, via mirroir)
Not too thrilled about getting Yahooed but such is life, again.
Laurie Penny’s Saudade
There are more of us than you think, kicking off our high-heeled shoes to run and being told not so fast
The best minds of my generation consumed by craving, furious half naked starving-
Who ripped tights and dripping make up smoked alone in bedsits bare mattresses waiting for transfiguration.
Who ran half dressed out of department stores yelling that we didn’t want to be good and beautiful
Who glowing high and hopeful were the last to leave the gig our skin crackling with lust and sweat and pure music
Who wrote poetry on each other’s arms and cared more about fucking than being fuckable
Who worked until our backs stiffened and our limbs sang with the memory of misbehaviour that was what it was to be a woman
Who dared to dance until dawn and were drugged and raped by men in clean T-shirts and woke up scared and sore to be told it was our fault
Who swallowed bosses’ patronizing side-eyes stole away from violent broken boys in the middle of the night and vowed never again to try to fix the world one man at a time
Who slammed down the tray of drinks and tore off our aprons and aching smiles and went scowling out into the streets looking for change
Who stripped in dark rooms for strangers’ anodyne dollars because we wanted education and were told we were traitors
Who sat faces upturned to the glow of the network searching searching for strangers who would call us pretty
Who bared our breasts to hidden cameras and fought and fought and fought to be human
Who waited in grim hallways with synth-pop crackling over the speaker system for the doctor to call us clutching fistfuls of pamphlets calling us sluts whores murderers
Who crossed continents alone with knapsacks full of books bare limbs clear-eyed vision running running from the homes that held our mothers down
Who filled notebooks with gibberish philosophy and scraps of stories and cameras to prove we were there keeping our novels and the name of out children close to our hearts
Who were told all our lives that we were too loud too tisky too fat too ugly too scruffy too selfish too much too and refused to take up less space refused to be still refused refused refused to be tame
Who would never be still. Who would never shut up. Who were punished for it and spat and snarled and they shook the bars of our cages until they snapped and they called us wild and crazy and we laughed with mouths open hearts open hands open and would never not ever be tame.
Sara, I’m with you in hospital, in the narroe rooms where you have put off your veil to count your ribs through your T-shirt, short hair and secrets and quiet defiance crying together that we don’t know how to be perfect-
Lara, I’m with you in mandatory art therapy, where we draw pictures of weeping cocks and are told we are not making progress-
Lila, I’m with you in a north London bathdroom, watchhing unreal maggots crawl in the cuts in your arms and listening to your girlfriend drunk and raging through the wall-
Andy, I’m with you in Bethnal Green where you love ambitious angry women with heart brain pen fingers tongue and you have a line from Nietzche tattooed over your cunt-
Adele, I’m with you in the student occupation, with your lipstick and cloche hat and teenage lisp drawling that there’s not enough fucking in this revolution and we must take action-
Kay, I’m with you on the night bus, half drunk and high dragging bright-eyed boys home to our bed, where we watch them worn out sleeping and whisper that we will never be married-
Katie, I’m with you in Zuccotti Park, where a broken heart is less important than a broken laptop is less important than a broken future and we watch the cops beating kids bloody on the pavement for daring to ask for more-
Tara, I’m with you in Islington where you have thrown all your pretty dresses out of the window and flushed your medication so you can write and write-
Alex, I’m with you and a bottle of Scotch at two in the morning when you tell me that no man will make us live for ever and we must seduce the city the country the world-
We are always hungry.
There are more of us than you think.
"Laurie Penny’s Saudade, from Fifty Shades of Feminism (via mollycrabapple)
So good.
(via neil-gaiman)
(via neil-gaiman)
Number.8 too close.
(via booklover)
(Source: nevver)
(Source: youpaintmyworld)
The ‘brilliantly promising’ bit was my very positive self image ten years back.
(Source: conniecann, via teachingliteracy)
A Google doodle of one of my favourite movie scenes ever. In Satyajit Ray’s 1955 movie, ‘Pather Panchali’ the protagonist little Apu and his sister, Durga run across fields of Kash reeds, when they spot a train for the very first time in their life.
(Source: 11mm, via isleofviewblog)
pronunciation | san-ko-fa (sahn-kaw-fah)
adinkra symbol |
(via twines)