I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mothers name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms? Or would you leave the snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice how that tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad, even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mothers joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. Tell me—knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old beating up little boys at school. If you were walking by a chemical plant, where smoke stacks were filling the sky with dark, black clouds, would you holler, “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud or would whisper, “That cloud looks like a fish, and that cloud looks like a fairy”? Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin? Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea? And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me, how would you explain the miracle of my life to me? See, I wanna know if you believe in any god, or if you believe in many gods. Or better yet, what gods believe in you. And for all the times you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself, have the prayers you’ve asked come true? And if they didn’t did you feel denied? And if you felt denied, denied by who[m]? I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling good. I wanna know what you see in the mirror on a day a day you’re feeling bad. I wanna know the first person who ever taught you your beauty could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass. If you ever reach enlightenment, will you remember how to laugh? Have you ever been a song? Would you think less of me if I told you I have lived my entire life a little off key and I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry I just plagiarized the thoughts of the people around me who have learned the wisdom of silence. Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence? And if you do I want you to tell me of a meadow where my skateboard will soar. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other people’s wounds. And if you dream sometimes that this life is just a balloon that if you wanted to you could pop—but you never would because you’d never want it to stop. If a tree fell in the forest, and you were the only one there to hear it, if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound, would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness? And lastly, let me ask you this: if you and I went for a walk, and the entire walk we didn’t talk, do you think eventually we’d kiss? No way. That’s askin’ too much—after all, this is only our first date.

Andrea Gibson

I’m tired of only ever seeing the shortened version of this. The whole thing is amazing and it deserves to be read in its entirety. 

(via miss—information)

wow, I could actually hear this in my head as I read it!


I made these as a way to compile all the geographical vocabulary that I thought was useful and interesting for writers. Some descriptors share categories, and some are simplified, but for the most part everything is in its proper place. Not all the words are as useable as others, and some might take tricky wording to pull off, but I hope these prove useful to all you writers out there!

(save the images to zoom in on the pics)




Forever wondering if I am contributing to a conversation by using my own experiences or being self centered and rude.

relevant. so fucking relevant.

Literally every single conversation :/ I’m so paranoid of doing this

(Source: stilinskiswhoremouth)

5:16 pm, reblogged by swallowtailskies
tagged: humanity, conversations,


Privilege is like having a dog that constantly follows you around, it doesn’t make you bad or good as long as you don’t use it to hurt people. Don’t pretend that your dog is nonexistent, because if you do, you’ll lose track of it and it will run loose and poop on everyone’s yard. Just keep it on a leash and carry on your merry way.

And sometimes you might go somewhere and someone who’s really traumatised by dogs might just really want you to take it away, or keep it on a tighter leash, or run after it to stop it wreaking havoc. And you might want to say “but it’s not my fault, I didn’t ask for this dog to follow me around”. And that’s true. But neither is it the fault of the person who’s been traumatised. 

Childhood as we now know it has divided that curve of life, that wholeness, into two parts—one called Childhood, the other called Adulthood, or Maturity. It has made a Great Divide in human life, and made us think that the people on opposite sides of this divide, the Children and the Adults, are very different. Thus we act as if the differences between any sixteen-year-old and any twenty-two-year-old were far greater and more important than the differences between someone aged two and someone aged sixteen, or between someone aged twenty-two and someone aged seventy. For with respect to the kind of control he has over his own life, the ability to make important choices, the sixteen-year-old is much closer to the two-year-old than he is to someone of twenty-two.

-John Holt, "Escape from Childhood" (via isupportyouthrights)

THIS (except for the default-he pronouns)

I don’t like this expression ‘First World problems.’ It is false and it is condescending. Yes, Nigerians struggle with floods or infant mortality. But these same Nigerians also deal with mundane and seemingly luxurious hassles. Connectivity issues on your BlackBerry, cost of car repair, how to sync your iPad, what brand of noodles to buy: Third World problems. All the silly stuff of life doesn’t disappear just because you’re black and live in a poorer country. People in the richer nations need a more robust sense of the lives being lived in the darker nations. Here’s a First World problem: the inability to see that others are as fully complex and as keen on technology and pleasure as you are.

Teju Cole

The other half of this is that there are a lot of people in the “first world” who face “third world problems.” (via emciel)

(Source: thewhiskeypropagandist)

During some strange misheard conversation with my boyfriend & sister, Fire Lord Sozin became Fire Lord Susan. I totally support Fire Lord Susan. She should be a thing.

(I also can’t get the idea out of my head of Fire Lord Susan as Susan Pevensie from Narnia. Someone please write this.)

Draw a monster. Why is it a monster?

Daughter by Janice Lee

I think about this quote a lot. (via depayzement)

(Source: misterracoon)

12:39 pm, reblogged by swallowtailskies
tagged: humanity, quotes, monsters,


Heartbleed bug: what do you actually need to do to stay secure?

People don’t seem to understand how site exploits work. Take this article to heart before you go running around panicking because it actually has the information you need.

It is advisable to change all your passwords, but only once the sites have fixed the Heartbleed bug, especially if you reuse the same password across multiple sites and services. Changing your password before will only put that new password at risk of being stolen through the Heartbleed bug.

If you want a short answer, in the form of an analogy, think of it this way. Every single “website” you go to is a building, and like some buildings, these websites have invested in all the same style of security. The OpenSSL is a type of encryption software which is used in HTTPS encryption in order to be a method of safety. Think of the OpenSSL as a locked door to this building, accessible only by keycard.

Now, presumably only people with the right keycard should be able to pass through that door, but the Heartbleed bug allows someone who knows the right work around to “jimmy the lock”, as it were.

The problem with running around and changing all of your passwords /now/ because tumblr told you to? Well, like those buildings, all of those doors will have to be taken out and fixed, or replaced with a new, more secure system. This takes time. The OpenSSL is used practically /everywhere/ meaning, until you can verify the site you’re using has updated, it is no more safe to change your password because anybody who wanted access to it could still use the bug. 

Your best option is to not use internet banking services, paypal services or anything else with secure encryption until that time, because if you don’t then your traffic won’t show up recently, and people won’t know where to find you to access your information.

Basically, as with A Hitchhiker’s Guide, your best advice is not to panic, and to reasonably think things through. This has been a PSA.

READ THIS IT’S IMPORTANT. No point changing your password unless you know that the site in question is actually now secure. 

In 1979, when the minimum wage was $2.90, a hard-working student with a minimum-wage job could earn enough in one day (8.44 hours) to pay for one academic credit hour. If a standard course load for one semester consisted of maybe 12 credit hours, the semester’s tuition could be covered by just over two weeks of full-time minimum wage work—or a month of part-time work. A summer spent scooping ice cream or flipping burgers could pay for an MSU education. The cost of an MSU credit hour has multiplied since 1979. So has the federal minimum wage. But today, it takes 60 hours of minimum-wage work to pay off a single credit hour, which was priced at $428.75 for the fall semester.

10:51 am, reblogged by swallowtailskies
tagged: education, minimum wage,