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[Texting]

Alexander: I wanna run mt fingers through your hair

Alexander: I wanna be with you

Alexander: I miss you

Lafayette: Mt fingers

Lafayette: Mountain made entirely out of fingers

Alexander: ok

Alexander: listen

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John,upset: Well, good luck on your date!

Hamilton,upset: I will!

John: That doesn’t even make any sense!

Hamilton: I know!

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I need this

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Dune Shadows

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I want to be politically informed and educated but I also wanna have a good day and be in a good mood. Do you see my problem?

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I’m not sure whether I should laugh or cry.

Is OP aware that oh so many books exist on this subject?

And that almost universally the ones authored by people with doctorates in classicism and mythology disagree with OP?

Including the… epic hymn that first told this story? You know what’s in that original source material… right?

Abducted, yes. Demeter mourned? Definitely. Rape, no.

So here’s some info on Ancient Greek wedding traditions which (oh my stars and garters!!) included abducting the bride. With the father’s permission, which Hades got before he took her away.

Here’s a whole book on the subject of Ancient Greek wedding custom and its conflation with funeral rites. (Which sounds a bit like Hades and Persephone to anyone who’s ever dabbled in things like explication and context)

Here’s a link to another book that talks about Persephone’s rise to power as a result of her willingly eating the pomegranate seeds.

Oh shit!!

Here’s a whole bunch of myths and hymns that talk about her Queen of the Underworld badassery!!

Holy pug tacos Batman!!

Here’s another book about the myth focusing on the seasonal religious and liminal rites. WHICH TAKE PLACE IN THE DRY SUMMER (not the fucking winter), which you know if you read a book.Way to go, OP!

All these fucking books!  What could anyone possibly do with them all?!?!?!?! Do you eat books to absorb their powers instead of read them?

A better guess would be that you got into a moral panic over the name of a certain Renaissance statue and maybe after reading three pages of Edith Hamilton or the first paragraph of a Wikipedia article. And then used that to castigate and demean not only the people who actually take their limited time to create gorgeous art but also to denigrate modern day worshippers of Persephone and Hades?

Maybe next time, you stringy piece of over-boiled okra, you might want to take your own advice and pick up a book, instead of reducing the feared and respected Queen of the Underworld who held power equal to or in many interpretations GREATER than her husband into a meaningless pastiche of female disenfranchisement that you seemingly plucked from your own ass.

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Sarcasm at its finest

I’m so glad I’m seen as a sex object, that guys only see me as someone they can use when they have a boner. It doesn’t matter if I wear a t-shirt or a bralette. That’s all they see is my boobs they don’t see me as someone with feelings. I hate that I’m pulled to that and I have no respect for myself. I have a problem with saying no and standing up for myself. I don’t know why. All I know is is that they all expect me to be there, waiting for me to be used. As I keep Waiting for a call that’s never gonna come. A relationship that’s never gonna happen or a crush that’ll never exist. All they see is boobs. That’s all everyone sees no matter what I wear. That’s my identifier. I’m the black girl with giant boobs. That’s all. And that’s probably all I’ll ever be. To anyone.

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Diary of a depressed teen: insertion 4

Pushing It's not like I want to be this way. It's not like I want to be detached from everyone, I can't help but push people away. Nothing is good enough, no one wants to be around a broken person. It's not like I'm special. If I like someone their just going to leave. Leaving is what we do it's a type of nature. All humans have this nature. I don't trust anyone for this reason, living isn't what I want to do anymore. It's not like any one would care if I died. All I feel is alone. Alone, get it? Fucking alone. No one wants me everyone uses me. Everyone's left, everyone leaves, guys play me, it's not like I matter, I don't matter anymore. All my "friends" used me and left. All but a few, the few that stayed I still love. I feel like crying. Cutting is the only way out. No one loves me here, it's not like if I left it would make a difference, no one cares... No one cares. I'm a slave to all these voices in my head, saying if I like someone "push him away, push him away, don't like him. He's a player, go away, leave, he won't chase after you" and I know it's a lie but I can't help it. Nobody cares, I'm not cared about. Stop crying, tell yourself to stop crying, even if you have to punch yourself, or cut, or burn. The feelings will come back eventually, but they'll come back stronger. But it doesn't matter, he's a jerk, but you like him anyway, there was only one guy you loved that wasn't, and he's far away, short, and in love with someone else. No one will chase after you, and the ones that do, you push away. But Grayson wasn't your fault, but it was. But it wasn't your fault when he left. That was his choice. Everyone always leaves, you always do something wrong to make them leave. You're such an idiot. You don't matter, who are you? hide. Hide away in your stupid thoughts, you don't matter, no one cares about you, everyone's left because you're a fucking idiot. No one cares about you, leave and don't come back. Keep pushing, push harder, because they won't pull you back anyway, they DON'T CARE!!!! If he cared, he'd chase after you. But he hasn't yet, so don't give up, this is so bipolar, but that doesn't mean that you are. It's ok, you'll be ok. Everything will eventually be ok, even if they aren't now. He won't leave, unless you do something stupid, but you'll never hurt him. And if he plays you, of he breaks your heart, don't push him away. Just settle for being best friends, like you always do. But that doesn't matter. It's ok. Everything will be ok. Just. Stop. Pushing.

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Diary of a Depressed Teen Writer: Insertion 4

Several There are several parts to my... Let's just call it numbness. First, some situation'll happen, then I'll be "just fine" and then that's when it all happens. The bursting out of the tears. Then I'll blame it on myself, because it's all my fault all the time. Always. It's always my fault. Then I'll be ok again. Only for a few minutes. And then it just comes out. All my tears. All at the same time. I can't breath. I'll take in deep breaths. And then I'll stop, then I'll see something, that reminds me of exactly how I feel. And I silently sob in my room. Because I don't want my family to notice that fact that I've been in and out of depression for the past 3 1/2 years. I'll look up photos of how I feel, what I want to do to myself. But I won't do them. At least not this early in the night. Even if I did do anything, it would only be cutting. I'm broken. So broken. There's no one to talk to. I feel like no one cares. Even though something's telling me he probably does. I'll curl up in a ball on my bed, sobbing, shaking. My body wracking. And if you were a deaf and were watching me, you'd probably think I was screaming. Which I am, but I am completely silent. My heart, feels like it's encased in ice. Frozen. Because that's what I feel, I feel dead but awake. Like I can breath and see everything. And I can move. And I can do all that I could do before. But I'm numb. Oh so very numb. I know how to keep it all in. I know how to seem like I'm worrying about nothing. But I'm worrying about everything. There's a wall around my heart. And every time it's broken. I feel like dying. The only time it can ever be broken, is if the heart is. But it builds back up again for next time. Because I can't do this anymore. It happens every time. I need to be held, hugged, every time I'm seen. It'll come off as clingy though. I feel comatose. Numb. Heart broken. Depressed. Inequal. Self-loathing. Denied. Rejected. It's 5th grade all over again. Sitting in a corner because I wasn't wanted anywhere. I'm. Not myself anymore. I feel nothing. I don't know anything anymore. I don't know what to feel. Or how to feel. It's like in 7th grade when I was bullied so much I had a mental breakdown in the middle of band. I had to go to a counselor for the next hour they found me crying very loudly in the bathroom. They weren't of much help. They never are "do you want to call your mom" they said. I didn't want them to. She didn't need any more things to worry about at the time. She still doesn't. We have a lot on our plate and not enough to pay for it. I feel... Calm. Not at peace, but calm. I also don't feel anything besides that. I'm not myself. At least not here. My personality has changed so much. As have my eating quantities. I ate half a taco yesterday at dinner. It was enough to get me to today. Today I had 3/4 a bowl of soup and 4 crackers. That seems good enough. Maybe then if I get skinnier I won't feel so... Insecure. I can't share any of what I feel to anyone. Not because they don't care, well actually yes because they probably don't care. But because here, no one understands. They probably do, but not to my extent. I just want to sleep. Even if the light's on. I just want. Sleep. I have to get up early. I'm not gonna be hungry tomorrow. I don't plan on eating. I feel crazy. Insane. Mental. It's whatever. If anyone reads this, then I hope that they know that I have to get these thoughts out somewhere, or everything will get worse. That I'm not crazy physically or mentally. Just psychologically. And that these are my thoughts and I'm allowed to think them if I want. I feel dead. I feel like dying. Like screaming. I don't want to move. I feel immobile. I can, but I don't want to, because I'm so fucking broken. I'm so gone. I'm numb. I'm broken. I feel forgotten, I just feel... Like a used toy. You know it's there, you remember where it is, you can even go get it, you just don't want to care for it or do any of that stuff. I feel tired. I want to sleep. Forever. I know that I'm over-exaggerating and I don't give a fucking piece of flying shit. I have several thoughts. I'm not sorry for this, this is how I settle into numbness. Which for me, is ok, because when I go to sleep. All these memories will still be here. And I'll be "just fine" until the next time. Whenever the hell that is. I have thoughts like everyone else. I just know I have several.

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“There are other fish in the sea.”

Well what if I don’t want those other fish? What if my fish was the last remaining wild Madagascar rainbow feathered swordfish?

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cuddle me and tell me I’m cuter than your exes and I’m all yours

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Plot twist: You're out with friends, and your hair looks great.

Plot twist: Your hair looks great.

Plot twist: You're out with friends.

Plot twist: You're out

Plot twist: friends

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Awkward Everyday Lives Of Animals By Simpsons Illustrator Liz Climo