At this point, I’m so tired of worrying about finding a job and getting interviews and making my cover letter look like a unicorn vomited all over it. I think maybe I should just go live in the bush and become a hermit. Dealing with people and trying to impress people enough that they’ll hire you…
This is entirely the anxiety of my life right now.
Q: What books are you embarrassed not to have read yet?
A: I have not read most of the big 19th-century novels that people consider “essential,” nor most of the 20th-century ones for that matter. But this does not embarrass me. There are many films to see, many friends to visit, many walks to take, many playlists to assemble and many favorite books to reread. Life’s too short for anxious score-keeping. Also, my grandmother is illiterate, and she’s one of the best people I know. Reading is a deep personal consolation for me, but other things console, too.
I’m learning, still. How many vertebrae your back has, because I’ve never counted any others, and that you prefer to hold my left hand with your right one, so we both have our creating fingers free. Which shoe you put on first. The setting you like the toaster at. How many minutes you let the…
You use the phrase, "The world is my oyster." I was recently told that as encouragement, but I'm 30 years old, never went to college, unemployed for six years, only just now learning how to drive, and desperately trying to find a way to move/find work two hours away so I can be with my girlfriend. Maybe the world is my oyster, but I have no idea how to see it that way. I'm trying, but it's so hard to breathe like this, so hard to keep from collapsing into a pile of terror.
Have you ever seen an oyster in the wild? Have you ever tried to open it? It’s fucking hard.
Do you know the origin of the phrase “The world is my oyster”? It comes from Shakespeare’s play The Merry Wives of Windsor:
Falstaff: I will not lend thee a penny.
Pistol: Why then the world’s mine oyster, Which I with sword will open.
Falstaff: Not a penny.
Are you seeing yourself in this? He’s not getting what he wants without a sword. Without a fight. He’s not getting a penny from anyone.
As an English major and a librarian I almost always look into the meaning behind these types of things. We took that line and we turned it into The world is yours to enjoy! YOLO! Woohoo! Which is true, yes. But, you’re probably going to have to brandish your sword at some point.
I am jumping into the next stage of my life with optimism and love. That’s my sword. I am coming at this with the belief that I deserve good things and that I am loved.
I am 28 years old. I have an unspeakable amount of debt. I have had huge let downs that made me question my value, my worth, my rights to love and food and survival and existence. I have had smaller let downs, the kind that creep into your sleeping dreams and ruin your daytime ones. Pile of terror? I’ve been there. That has been my mailing address and the place where my emergency contact lived and the place I thought I would live and die in. So, I get it. I get not wanting to be optimistic or not understanding how to even begin to be optimistic.
But sometimes the world isn’t going to lend you a penny. And you need to decide what your sword is and use it on the goddamn oyster. The only other option is to sit with that tightly sealed mollusk for the rest of your life and wonder whether there was a pearl inside.
Guy #1:New Year's is an arbitrary benchmark constructed by humans and there is nothing significant or essential about it.
Why choose January first to aspire and make committed decisions about self-improvement? Why not do it every day? Sheep.
Guy #2:If you think there's nothing significant or essential about arbitrary human constructs then you're either entirely lost or lying for the sake of being oppositional.
It's useful to have a specific, unavoidable occasion upon which to pause, evaluate, and appreciate a stretch of your life, no matter the unit, as well as steel yourself for the parts to come. This one already exists. The only reason to resist it is if you're a middle schooler who is just learning how to resist and doesn't really distinguish between worthwhile, principled rebellion and knee-jerk baby contrarianism.
The problem with the Peter Alexander “Wasabi Chic” campaign isn’t with the clothes themselves, it was the stupid and insensitive way they were marketed. The geisha motif in that photoshoot was atrocious and the name of the collection was idiotic. But the clothing itself? It’s fine. It’s patterned…
If you don’t ride the bus, you will never see people crying on the bus, and you will never wonder why. If you don’t ride the bus, you will never see mothers holding their toddlers from falling off the seats on the bus. If you don’t ride the bus, you will never see who rides the bus, and you will never see them at the edges of days, putting those private moments in public, the exhaustion, the exhaustion.
I felt myself breathe today. Really breathe. It was 91 degrees and my dress was wrinkled and stuck to me, but I gulped in a deep breath of humid air and I felt it. I felt it go in and it didn’t come back out. Do you know these breaths I mean?
I have stumbled over my words for the last few weeks….
Unrequited love is kinda redundant nobody will ever love you the way that you want your heart is a series of wells that will never be filled not with hours of work or dwayne johnson gifs or pictures of cats have you tried to pat a stray cat nowadays? lately? lately? they are only looking to hiss they are only looking to bite you for reals or claw you to death ‘yes I’m a cat person’ you say to yourself ‘yes I like cats yes I guess’
I wanna watch a movie but I also wanna finish this book but I also wanna go to bed but I also wanna eat something but I also wanna finish that tv series but I also wanna drink something but I also wanna do something with my life
Remember when that old lady ghost from Are You Afraid of the Dark? haunted that girl for not visiting? when I was younger she used to haunt me too I can’t visit my grandmother without getting carsick on the way I can’t lay on a couch without a week passing by
As a university tutor in my hometown, a city which is roughly 40% black and 37% white, I still had students asking me, “Do they just never learn how to talk right?” I pull up a chair when this happens, “Listen up, gang.” So what do I tell them? Well, the goal is to convey that, scientifically speaking, non-standard varieties of English such as the English spoken by Rachel Jeantel and the ‘proper English’ they’ve been taught are equally communicative. I go over the differences and point out that both have a rule system that must be followed to speak convincingly.
But then, I don’t see why there should need to be that justification. So I end up trying to teach respect. If they have a student that speaks a non-standard variety of English, they need to understand that that student is therefore competent in understanding at least two versions of English: the version they speak at home and other safe environments, and the one forced upon them when listening to you. Respect that.
The alarmingly pervasive idea that standard English equates to ‘good grammar’ and non-standard English equates to ‘bad grammar’ is false and exclusionary. When it’s used in conjunction with intelligence and credibility of a young black woman, it’s reminiscent of the faulty scientific racism of “The Bell Curve.” But language shaming is currently acceptable behavior in the status quo. It is one of the last bastions of unabashed racism and classism.
What happens when the walls drop The lies and the disguises and the small talk That cover up the pain and the shame and the bald spots We’re runaway trains what happens when it all stops Artists drop gems that ring false rocks We shouldve got those calls blocked like Alstott We’re feedin our mind from the tree in Eden Lately ive been reading what paul taught - freedom That’s what we all want
“Forgive. Forget. Fake it. Chin up. Wear lipstick, make lists, make sure your voicemail isn’t full. Mix protein shakes, send timely thank you notes, sip drinks more slowly, stare at adults’ eyebrows, smile without dimples, develop perfect posture. Be gracious, be kind, eliminate self-pity. Look in the mirror and shift your internal monologue from ‘How do I look?’ to ‘This is my face,’ from ‘What the hell am I doing?’ to ‘This is my life.’ Capitalize your emails, read the news, walk briskly, stay focused, and never, ever let on that you are somewhat lost and sometimes lonely and so completely confused (and would someone please just let me know what it is I’m supposed to do next, where exactly I’m supposed to go–). Just keep going. Go, and do not stop.”—Jennifer Schaffer, A Checklist For The Age 19 (via thatkindofwoman)