(via whirl-on)

i wish it was that easy

Dear Sugar, The Rumpus  (via a-v-e-s-a-t-a-n-a)

(via believies)

(via phocks)

I’ve been told by a close friend today that I don’t have a sense of humor. 

I find it strange that I should feel guilty, inferior, and saddened by the comment. Maybe because it came from a friend. 

I think it’s okay that I don’t have a sense of humor. I laugh at things that are ridiculous and stupid to others and I like to swim in a sea of no-joke serious matters. I like to think that humor is reserved for those who have yet to experience real pain.

I hope that I’ll never have “a sense of humor”. I hope that those of you who have it are okay with us, the bunch who are deficient in it.

(via myshoesuntied)

if we could convert

these specks of heartfluttery joy

—like layered waffle cakes doused in too much

maple syrup

colored frosting

chocolate sauce

and other things that will invariably kill us—

into capitalistic economic productivity

we’d be billionaires by now

but we’d still be poor because then

we will smile a little on the inside while

we exchange the money we’d earned with our

worthless jubilance

for an eternity of that

worthless jubilance

that can only be felt

when our kindred souls engage in a intimate dance

with the true art of another beating heart

[my attention span lowers further and further until i see the neighbor’s cat staring at me through the wall between her house and mine. across the invisible air of the street i stare back at her and inhale so deeply it hurt just a little and then i muse over the profound regrets the cat must never had.if she was on her first life she must be enjoying the perks of being a modern feline cutefluff. if she was on her last life she probably knows everything about the universe certainly more than i could ever know anyway and is therefore bored out of her mind. if by chance she has been reincarnated as a special bonus round the worst it could get for her is an image of herself in a “i haz razor” meme. i wonder how much electricity could be generated from people’s laughters from exposure to meme or other incomprehensible funnies that that tickle their comedic nerve-endings.i realized that i haven’t learned enough maths or neuroscience in college to tackle this issue one that concerns humanity greatly.kind of weird that such an important question is not being researched right now by me. afterall i am a trained researcher and this does have some pertinence to human biology. but no i have to stare at 10 tabs of Google Chrome OHSU job postings and try not to hyperventilate and think about how great a foe regret can be. so instead i stare at the cat through the walls and anticipate that in a couple of seconds from now she will do her gargled meowing thing. i call it gargled meowing because she doesn’t really meow but gargles up this freakish sound from somewhere in her catty glottis and then spits it out like a pretend meow. i call it pretend meow because frankly it all too closely resembles the cry of a human baby.

the cry of a human baby.

that’s what i’m morphing into. a bodiless voice flowing in primordial ether-goo. and that bag of cellular waste that i will still refer to as “i” will be in a deep slumber and unable to think about all the terrible horrible happenings of man chopping off the fingers of their young wives and planes to utopia crashing before landing and human society heading into robot singularity and the non-existence of god that we worshipped and knew. “i” will be in a deep slumber and unable to think about all the wonderful beautiful happenings of a watermelon popsicle in the heat of summer and geniuses everywhere making a positive impact on Earth and the sweet sound of music reverberating in my ears and false nostalgic memories of being embraced by everybody i’ve ever met and love all at the same time. 

and then i will be reunited with my bodiless voice and explode quietly and turn into a million a billion a trillion little parts and few of them will float far far far away into the deep vacuum of space and meet a meteor heading into the center of the universe

and then trillions or an unimaginably amount of time from now there will be a moment when the center of the universe explodes and is reborn into something else magnificent and benevolent and perfect and that little part of me will be part of it and shall laugh smile and cry.

and there a particle of me will meet a particle of the cat and say

gargled meow

hi.]

Beginnings of a short story? Spawned out of anxieties from job searching. I’m not actually that unemployed/wanting to be employed in a job that I know I’d hate right now. So I pondered: why so much anxiety over this? why so much anxiety thinking about the wrong turns i’ve taken and the right turns to unhappiness that i don’t want to make?

by Hollie Hardy on The Common

The first thing you need to know is that the tracheotomy is an act of desperation and/or violence that should only be committed when there is no other option. 

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