#Diary.txt

[abandonedlolita]

the ending of Lolita is so beautifully sad, i relate to it so.

Dolores dies on Christmas, merely days before her 18th birthday. she could’ve lived a long good life if it wasn’t for who shall not be named

it just shows how trauma of that nature truly keeps you a child no matter how old you get. the death of your childhood but also the prolonged birth of your adulthood keeps you in the limbo

poor Dolores and all the other innocent people who are still trying to heal

this is how i interpret the ending ෆ

[vegancas]

was helping a customer at work today and they were thanking me for helping them find the thing they wanted after everything had been moved around again and they said "thank you, you're a good [noticeable but very brief pause with a glance at my pronoun pin] person" and idk it was just, feels like the first time i've ever had a customer actually take notice and try to get it right, i felt the gender euphoria today i guess

[stubblekiss]

I think my husband either isn't sexually attracted to me anymore or is asexual but I don't wanna talk to him about it bc. I love him and this life we have together..I'm literally out here yearning and aching and crying over how untouchable I am every fucking night. Thinking about this for longer than two seconds literally makes me want to die like how the fuck did this happen to .me of course the only person who's ever liked me as a person can't stand to touch me. Of course I've built my whole life around someone who has no physical interest in me. Of course ichave the world's craziest libido and am in love with someone who never makes a move on me. Of fucking course

[seawilde]

guess who got a hair appointment and did it in a foreign language

[camaro-and-smokes]

I managed to record half of a song on a cassette as a teenager, the year somewhere in the early 90s. The song had incredibly beautiful lyrics and haunting guitars but I never heard the dj say who's song it was. I just knew that the song IS beautiful and listened the cassette on repeat for years (I still have it). I never heard the song in the radio again, so when cd's and mp3's took over the song got buried under other stuff in my mind.

Until today.

I heard another song that had the same guitars and singer, and after a short digging the artist...

I. Fucking. Found it.

I found the song I had been hoping to find for probably 30 years. I finally learned who's song it was and heard it entirely for the first time EVER.

Man. I bawled. The song is even more beautiful than I remembered.

Why I'm posting this here is that it gave me such inspo that I don't even know what to do with it. Because it reeks of super angsty something and I'm afraid it's angsty because someone's dead. And I hate writing angst with permanent deaths because man, the amount of tears I shed when writing it.... But when muse says write... *sighs and grabs a box of tissues on her way to her laptop*

[mothman-dyke]

as someone who has attended a community college, an extremely small and rural state college, and now a large (50000-student!) university, I am always comparing the differences in these experiences. and am aware that each experience is going to have its pros and cons. but honestly my time in grad school at this larger university has been a deeply radicalizing and upsetting experience.

I found attending community college, even at a young age as I did (18-20) really rewarding in that, because of the age-diversity of the student body, instructors were extremely respectful of their students as people with lives of their own. That wasn't quite so prominent at the state college, but you had a lot of well-intentioned liberal-ish types. they were hyper-respectful of student-professor boundaries, were very "it's ok to be LGBT!" and still baseline pretty chill.

In contrast, my experience in grad school has been a trainwreck. professors broadly feel entitled to your time at their discretion and often feel angry if you aren't available at any time. they trample over boundaries and, perhaps because the student-body is broadly older, feel comfortable saying pretty much anything. more than anything, though, in this progressive, university in a medium-sized city, I encounter more unhinged bigotry than I did in ether of my previous experiences. (Author's note: I also encounter far less female professors, which might have something to do with it.) Male professors have trampled boundaries, made sexualized comments to female students, and at every turn condescended to, berated, and verbally abused female students who don't fall in line and defer to them. the same professors have imitated my accent, compared lesbian sexuality to porn, and been openly shocked and agitated if students don't have the newest iphones.

this post is mostly about venting. I have always been passionate about academia and loved my time at my previous institutions, and this experience has been extremely disappointing in many ways. I have never felt more aware of how progressive misogyny, homophobia, and bigotry at large work within the institution, and I am deeply fucking disillusioned.

[mossy-headstones]

“You don’t know what to do, so you do anything you like.”

[ghoulibrat]

Cannot wait to come back 2 myself

[wistfulfag]

followed like fifty people today im gonna need time to actually go through all their pages and see if i want to follow or unf....

[7intendo]

yall gon hate me

[abandonedlolita]

a part of girlhood is the unexplainable thirst for revenge

[vegancas]

just had a realisation, was thinking about how it's about the right time of year to think about asking for nov 5th off at work, and put two and two together that i'm seeing atl and mayday parade on nov 4th, and i was planning to say i was available for surgery (for my hysterectomy) the monday following that which would be nov 6th. so my question is, should i say i won't be available for surgery until the 7th? bcos w timezones everyone will still be celebrating the 5th when it's already the 6th here and i want to be able to keep posting too!!

[stubblekiss]

halloween 2015. Almost ten years ago now but I still can't get the fucking taste out of my mouth. I just checked his Twitter for the first time in probably a year. I used to obsessively check it multiple times a day to see if he would ever mention anything about what he did to me but he never did.

I'm waiting for my husband to leave the apartment so I can get drunk and think about how I would go back and save myself from that halloween onwards. Or maybe further back and rescue myself from everything that led up to that night

[bybabycupid]

psst you too can have a pretty theme for your tumblr https://theme-hunter.tumblr.com/

[02ofcups-archive]

ok i get why old people just Sit Outside

[mothman-dyke]

Not to constantly dykepost after midnight but. Yeah