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The only downside to talking to small children like they’re normal people and treating them like normal people (as per my mom) is that as they develop into bigger children they are viscerally aware of every single moment in which they are pandered to like stupid little accessories (as per my dad, my teacher, the special ed aide, every adult in my middle school) and you end up getting a lot of phone calls from people reporting your kid for (checks notes) “undermining authority”, “disrupting the classroom environment”, “disobeying elder peers”, and “unionizing the grade eleven gym class with intent to incite a mutiny” (as per me) and you end up with a Grown Adult who will absolutely encourage and enable other people’s children to fuck the sustem

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"𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵." — 𝘑𝘢𝘯𝘦 𝘈𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯

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Lord knows that the United States has and continues to commit atrocities. I can't justify that. And the current political situation here is scary as hell. But I love this place. I love the Atlantic Ocean and New York City and the Pacific Northwest. I love my Blue Ridge Mountains with my whole entire heart. I love cardinals and mockingbirds and kudzu and possums and black rat snakes and the way the woods smell in the mornings. 

I love that Americans are known for complimenting strangers. I love that we fry everything, and that we do it well. I love 12-foot-high plastic Halloween skeletons in people’s yards and tacky Christmas lights that stay up too long. I love that we are an unabashedly goofy people.

I love bluegrass music. I love stepping. I love that there are always folklorico dancers in my town’s Mardi Gras parade. I love that my town has a Mardi Gras parade, even though most people here aren’t Catholic or French and didn’t grow up with any kind of Carnivale tradition. I love that if "Livin On A Prayer" comes on a pizzeria, at least one person at each table won't be able to stop themselves from singing along. I love that the middle school gym shakes to the rafters when families cheer for THEIR baby finishing eighth grade and that they bring balloons and bouquets and flower garlands to celebrate.

I love the 80 year old couple at our local No Kings protest. I love all the little kids there with their families, too. I love the brass band that always shows up at protests here and plays old union songs and gospel music. I cry like a damn baby every time I hear “Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing.”

This country is horrible and selfish and destructive, but it’s also wonderful and kind and full of people loving and fighting and trying to make things better. And the people saying that there’s only one kind of real American, and that if you don’t look like they do or talk like they do or think like they do, then you don’t count, those people can go pound sand. I’m as real American as they come, and those people aren’t the only ones who get to love our country.

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JK Rowling will die alone in that castle of hers, surrounded by no one. sure, she'll get a few days of attention and Harry Potter will be popular for a bit, but by the end of the month everyone will have moved on. she won't be remembered as a visionary who wrote a popular book series 20 years ago, she'll be remembered as a bigot who put down trans women and other cis women for the sake of some "agenda". She isn't a feminist. She's a bigot grafting the skin of an actually helpful political movement onto herself to pretend she cares about women.

Trans people, keep going. We'll outlive her. this law will get overturned. we have to keep moving forward

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if you read, you're hot. i don't make the rules

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When Jane Austen said, “If a book is well written, I always find it too short”, I felt that.

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thank you Canada 🇨🇦

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Strokes of the brush and pen...

@songs-of-venus

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📢📢📢

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thank you to trees and also rain

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folklore/evermore are for neil’s trilogy and the tortured poets department is for jean’s.

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do you need that book? no.

should you get it anyway? absolutely

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Your trauma taught you to expect storms, but your healing is teaching you to trust clear skies—to believe that not every hello ends in goodbye, not every quiet holds a storm, not every love hides pain, and not every gift carries conditions. Your heart remembers the hurt, but it can learn to welcome joy.

Vex King

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Every time someone tells me they hate Shakespeare (which is frequently, bc people who hate Shakespeare r usually very proud of it and they need to tell me immediately when they learn that I'm a Shakespeare actor) I enact a sort of self contained stoic ritual where I remind myself that I do not need to be defending the most read and lauded and hegemonic English writer of all time even though I KNOW that they've only half-read Romeo and Juliet when they were 14 in a lame English class and formed a grudge and never changed their opinion. I have that knowledge and I allow it to wash over me and leave me undisturbed

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Girls who love their nose buried in a book

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𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢