turtlebird-blog - Tumblr blog

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Not to mention.... He was 19 when it was released........ Wtf

prince’s first album:

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Less than 10 minutes into FACE/OFF and this is already. Unequivocally the worst movie iv ever seen

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If someone broke into my flat & began stealing everything I own I wld probably. Get out of bed & help them shift it all

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Anyone else here terrified of being assertive or standing ya ground in literally any sense

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Emotional labor is often invisible to men because a lot of it happens out of their sight. Emotional labor is when my friends and I carefully coordinate to make sure that nobody who’s invited to the party has drama with anyone else at the party, and then everyone comes and has a great time and has no idea how much thought went into it. Emotional labor is when I have to cope, again, with the distress I feel at having to clean myself in a dirty bathroom or cook my food in a dirty kitchen because my male roommate didn’t think it was important to clean up his messes. Emotional labor is having to start the 100th conversation with my male roommate about how I need my living space to be cleaner. Emotional labor is reminding my male roommate the next day that he agreed to clean up his mess but still hasn’t. Emotional labor is reassuring him that it’s okay, I’m not mad, I understand that he’s had a very busy stressful week. Emotional labor is not telling him that I’ve had a very busy stressful week, too, and his fucking mess made it even worse. Emotional labor is reassuring my partner over and over that yes, I love him, yes, I find him attractive, yes, I truly want to be with him, because he will not do the work of developing his self-esteem and relies on me to bandage those constantly-reopening wounds. Emotional labor is letting my partner know that I didn’t like what he did sexually last night, because he never asked me first if I wanted to do that. Emotional labor is reassuring him that, no, it’s okay, I’m not mad, I just wanted him to know for next time, yes, of course I love him, no, this doesn’t mean I’m not attracted to him, I’m just not interested in that sort of sex. Emotional labor is not being able to rely on him to reassure me that it’s not my fault that I didn’t like the sex, because this conversation has turned into my reassuring him, again. Emotional labor is when my friend messages me once every few weeks with multiple paragraphs about his life, which I listen to and empathize with. Afterwards, he thanks me for being “such a good listener.” He asks how my life has been, and I say, “Well, not bad, but school has been so stressful lately…” He says, “Oh, that sucks! Well, anyway, I’d better get to bed, but thanks again for listening!” Emotional labor is when my friend messages me and, with no trigger warning and barely any greeting, launches into a story involving self-harm or suicide or something else of that sort because “you know about this stuff.” Emotional labor was almost all of my male friends in high school IMing me to talk about how the girls all go for the assholes. Emotional labor is when my partners decide they don’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore, but rather than directly communicating this to me, they start ignoring me or being mean for weeks until I have to ask what’s going on, hear that “I guess I’m just not into you anymore,” and then have to be the one to suggest breaking up. For extra points, then I have to comfort them about the breakup. Emotional labor is setting the same boundary over and over, and every time he says, “I’m sorry, I know you already told me this, I guess I’d just forgotten.” Emotional labor is being asked to completely explain and justify my boundaries. “I mean, that’s totally valid and I will obviously respect that, I just really want to understand, you know?” Emotional labor is hiding the symptoms of mental illness, pretending my tears are from allergies, laughing too loudly at his jokes, not because I’m just in principle unwilling to open up about it, but because I know that he can’t deal with my mental illness and that I’ll just end up having to comfort him because my pain is too much for him to bear. Emotional labor is managing my male partners’ feelings around how often we have sex, and soothing their disappointment when they expected to have sex (even though I never said we would) and then didn’t, and explaining why I didn’t want to have sex this time, and making sure we “at least cuddle a little before bed” even though after all of this, to be quite honest, the last thing I fucking want is to touch him.

Emotional Labor: What It Is and How To Do It (via brutereason)

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My parents were so cute in ‘77/‘78 IMO………. No offense

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Also I hate that rhetoric of “yeah the system is horrible but its inherent & impossible 2 change!!!” because…… U ever notice it only comes from those who benefit from the status quo remaining fixed ??

Like yeah Max, ofc u don’t want to encourage diversification n reform 2 the film industry cause then people wld b too busy reading the scripts of talented women, lgbti folk n poc to pay attention to ur uninspired shitheaps

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Also like despite all of Max Landis’ scripts resulting in ….. Bombs…. Ppl still pay in excess of a million bux for his specs….. And he refuses to acknowledge nepotism or his own white/str8/cis/male/upperclass privileges as a contributing factor here ????

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Max landis is the same dude who went on Twitter and whined about how people don’t want original movies when like every movie he ever wrote bombed

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Someone rewatch bebop with me.. I miss it

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Pictured: me walking home in the rain just now

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I don’t want a job in any field I just want to b a nerd in all of them

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Reading the genius thing for To Think I Once Loved You and there's some shit in there that's... Just never actually touched on in the song....... Some poor soul out there venting about their ex on this lyric page.... Hope ur ok mate

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There r so many fields I wld love an intimate knowledge of but formally studying them in any sense is just. Ew no why. Even (especially) the fields I already study……….

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I love!! linguistics nerds!!!!!

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Never. Going to admit I'm sad again. Idk.