I’m self-sufficient. I spend a lot of time on my own and I shut off quite easily. When I communicate, I communicate 900 per cent, then I shut off, which scares people sometimes.
Last night I wept. I wept because the process by which I have become woman was painful. I wept because I was no longer a child with a child’s blind faith. I wept because my eyes were opened to reality… I wept because I could not believe anymore and I love to believe. I can still love passionately without believing. That means I love humanly. I wept because I have lost my pain and I am not yet accustomed to its absence.
straight boys are weak and pathetic, queer girls walk into the ladies changing room and see ten women naked, do they stare? do they say something inappropriate? do they make them uncomfortable? no because they have the common fucking sense to recognise when a situation is sexual and that people deserve the most basic level of respect to not be harassed, yet here we are banning shorts and low cut tops in school because straight boys are weak and pathetic
"well why is it even important to mention aromantic and asexual people all the time not everyone gets mention-"
because our entire culture is so deeply steeped in sex and romance and there’s millions of people who want none of one or the other or both and they need to be recognized and mentioned instead of made to feel like they don’t fit and they’re broken
r u ever like damn i hate my body but then ur like life is an illusion i’m floatin around on a rock trapped in an orbit around a ball of flame in a vast & largely unknown universe where death is unescapable who gives a shit ???
Anonymous asked: Thoughts on Malala winning?
conclusion: Malala is amazing and Western civilization has yet again proven to be hypercritical ignorant uncompromising and evil. how very fitting for columbus day.
There’s two types of Autumn:
- the bright, colorful, happy autumn with pumpkins, apples, candles, and great food
- the dreary, dark, creepy autumn with overcast and rainy skies, scary forests, cool temperatures, and halloween
And I love them both!
Journal, 17 septembre 1918
Je n’ai jamais ouvert un livre pour — à proprement parler — le plaisir de le lire ou d’en étudier l’auteur, son époque et son sens, mais pour y chercher le secret d’une partie obscure et non encore consciente de moi-même. C’est pourquoi je lis avec fièvre, en négligeant d’un coup d’œil ce que j’ai jugé inutile ; c’est pourquoi aussi je me sens malheureux et rejette avec ennui le livre quand je n’y ai pas trouvé d’écho.