Love doesn’t sit there like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; remade all of the time, made new.
Love must be as much a light as it is a flame.
Imagine what she would be saying on the pillow afterwards. How awful—such a chatterbox.
One single aim fired us, the urge to embrace all experience, and to bear witness concerning it. At times this meant that we had to follow diverse paths—though without concealing even the least of our discoveries from one another. …That which bound us freed us; and in this freedom we found ourselves bound as closely as possible.
FFS, guys, new to Tumblr issue: where the everloving fuckweasel does one find a way/method of replying/adding a note after someone else’s note on your post?
I think I maybe don’t understand what Tumblr even IS, or something.
you can’t, except if they reblogged it in which case you can reblog it again. because TUMBLR SUCKS. most people seem to take screen shots of the bit that says “so-and-so replied to your post: [so-and-so’s lovely reply]” and then they make a new post answering it.
i actually ranted at length once about how i think it’s a really weird alienating platform that doesn’t at all facilitate dialogue, just a weird addictive bellowing into the void - ooh someone liked my post oh good now i have a chemical boost in my brain.
i lost 2 followers for my uterus post. i’m glad you liked it. if tumblr didn’t suck, i would have replied to your post, but instead i will say, glad you liked it. i was torn between that and one of the ones with more teeth/fangs, which really seem a little more accurate. i spent last evening doing uterus yoga on the bed/bathroom floor and looking at comics about periods on the internet. the solidarity helps.
also thanks purple0black for being kind and rad.
Cakes have gotten a bad rap. People equate virtue with turning down dessert. There is always one person at the table who holds up her hand when I serve the cake. No, really, I couldn’t she says, and then gives her flat stomach a conspiratorial little pat. Everyone who is pressing a fork into that first tender layer looks at the person who declined the plate, and they all think, That person is better than I am. That person has discipline. But that isn’t a person with discipline; that is a person who has completely lost touch with joy. A slice of cake never made anybody fat. You don’t eat the whole cake. You don’t eat a cake every day of your life. You take the cake when it is offered because the cake is delicious. You have a slice of cake and what it reminds you of is someplace that’s safe, uncomplicated, without stress. A cake is a party, a birthday, a wedding. A cake is what’s served on the happiest days of your life. This is a story of how my life was saved by cake, so, of course, if sides are to be taken, I will always take the side of cake.