All of the music today. All of it.
I’m really happy someone filmed this. Thank you.
This is the version of “Walks Away” that appears on Zebadiah Zebra Pants; which is on iTunes and vinyl if you are interested!
Meghan’s so happy. :)
you keep worrying
is taking up too much space.
i wish you’d let yourself
be the milky way.
How do you break the gravity of a depressed heart that feels so heavy that it might be responsible for holding the galaxy together?
"I dealt with people all my life, and now I’m burnt out. I just like to be alone. It’s more comfortable."
say this is what the pain made of you:
god mason, heart heavier than all the bricks.
smasher of the stopwatch timing grief.
holy cliff, avalanche of feel it all.
angel of the get through.
angel of the get through.
Heartsoldier, standing watch.
Knowing you’ve survived worse,
But knowing you’d damn yourself
To see another heart join the ranks.
Life is so damn short, for fucks sake, just do what makes you happy.
Compliment people. Magnify their strengths, not their weaknesses.
Not everyone is going to want, accept, or know how to receive your energy. Make peace with it and move on.
Kindness. It doesn’t cost a damn thing. Sprinkle that shit everywhere.
Slow down, calm down, don’t worry, don’t hurry. Trust the process.
Spend more time making yourself a better person and less time worrying about what everyone else is doing.
Find a way, not an excuse.
Religious freedom doesn’t mean you can force others to live by your own beliefs, and you do not have to endure this from others either.
We are not our failures.
You can’t live a positive life with a negative mind.
The more you close yourself the unhappier you’ll be. You’re not alone, open up to people.
People come and people go. That’s the way the world goes. Live and learn, don’t live and regret. The best is yet to come. Look forward.
When you lose yourself in what you love, you find yourself in what you are.
Forget everything you’ve been told and open your mind.
Forgiveness is the greatest indicator of strength. Admit when you’re wrong, but if someone makes you feel like shit for the mistake, move on. Similarly, when someone makes a mistake, be good enough to understand why they did. You don’t attack people because of a mistake. People learn.
|—||15 Things You Should Keep in Mind (by themoonphase)|
1 sqft of bun
Fun fact: a group of bunnies is called a fluffle.
1 sqft of fluffle
The standard unit of squee.
Also good for the kids. They encourage having slow readers read to the family pets. A dog will listen to a kid read a whole book one damn sssyl-la——-ble at a time, and it will never get frustrated, or correct their pronunciation, or start playing Angry Bird because it can’t stand listening to the slowness any more. The dog will look at the kid approvingly, because, human. Human is talking. Human is interacting.
So this is a great win-win.
i am a 26 year old man and this almost made me cry
The evolution of digital media
As women, when we’re children we’re taught to enter the world with big hearts. Blooming hearts. Hearts bigger than our damn fists. We are taught to forgive - constantly - as opposed to what young boys are taught: Revenge, to get ‘even.’ Our empathy is constantly made appeals to, often demanded for. If we refuse to show kindness, we are reprimanded. We are not good women if we do not crush our bones to make more space for the world, if we do not spread our entire skin over rocks for others to tread on, if we do not kill ourselves in every meaning of the word in the process of making it cozy for everyone else. It is the heat generated by the burning of our bodies with which the world keeps warm. We are taught to sacrifice so much for so little. This is the general principle all over the world.
By the time we are young women, we are tired. Most of us are drained. Some of us enter a lock of silence because of that lethargy. Some of us lash out. When I think of that big, blooming heart we once had, it looks shriveled and worn out now. When I was teaching, I had a young student named Mariam. She was only 11 years old. Some boy pushed her around in class, called her names, broke her spirit for the day. We were sitting under a chestnut tree on a field trip and she asked me if a boy ever hurt me. I told her many did and I destroyed them one by one. I think that’s the first time she ever heard the word ‘destroyed.’ We rarely teach our girls to fight back for the right reasons.
Take up more space as a woman. Take up more time. Take your time. You are taught to hide, censor, move about without messing up decorum for a man’s comfort. Whether it’s said or not, you’re taught balance. Forget that. Displease. Disappoint. Destroy. Be loud, be righteous, be messy. Mess up and it’s fine – you are learning to unlearn. Do not see yourself like glass. Like you could get dirty and clean. You are flesh. You are not constant. You change. Society teaches women to maintain balance and that robs us of our volatility. Our mercurial hearts. Calm and chaos. Love only when needed; preserve otherwise.
Do not be a moth near the light; be the light itself. Do not let a man’s ocean-big ego swallow you up. Know what you want. Ask yourself first. Decide your own pace. Decide your own path. Be cruel when needed. Be gentle only when needed. Collapse and then re-construct. When someone says you are being obscene, say yes I am. When they say you are being wrong, say yes I am. When they say you are being selfish, say yes I am. Why shouldn’t I be? How do you expect a woman to stand on her two feet if you keep striking her at the ankles.
There are multiple lessons we must teach our young girls so that they render themselves their own pillars instead of keeping male approval as the focal point of their lives. It is so important to state your feelings of inconvenience as a woman. We are instructed to tailor ourselves and our discomfort - constantly told that we are ‘whining’ and ‘nagging’ and ‘complaining too much.’ That kind of silence is horribly violent, that kind of insistence upon uniformly nodding in agreement to your own despair, and smiling emptily so no man is ever uncomfortable around us. Male-entitlement dictates a woman’s silence. If we could see the mimetic model of the erasure of a woman’s voice, it would be an incredibly bloody sight.
On a breezy July night, my mother and I were sleeping under the open sky. Before dozing off, I told her that I think there is a special place in heaven where all wounded women bury their broken hearts and their hearts grow into trees that only give fruit to the good and poison to the bad. She smiled and said Ameen. Then she closed her eyes.
every lover is a storm chaser.
every good heart has lost its roof.