So Peter and Alice was hauntingly beautiful. I’ll say more about it when I can process everything. Merriam and I went to stage door to see Judi and Ben (not for photos just to watch them being humans). Ben is a doormouse and Judi is every bit a dame. And then on the way home we casually bumped into Daniel Radcliffe. 

I love living in London.

Hey sexy, nice tits. Whoa, why are you so upset? It’s a compliment. I’m only being nice to you, you stupid bitch.

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Today I like my face.

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“thank you.”

Women are not punished in this world for acting ‘like men’. We are punished for acting like human beings. In our world, only men are human. They take that label for themselves, they accord themselves social and economic and legal privileges because of it, and they declare women other and different and make damn sure that we wear our inferiority in whatever way they tell us to. Through our clothing and our hairstyles and our submissive and ingratiating behaviours.

Any time a woman gives herself the right to be fully clothed, to have access to forums and spaces in which to express her ideas and opinions, to work in fields which men declare unsuitable, to be comfortable and free of bodily restriction, she is (knowingly or not) refusing to accept her inferior sex-caste status. We are declaring our right to be human. Not our right to be men, our right to be human. Got it?

The association of man with human is so pervasive, yet invisible, that women refusing to accept inferior status is equated with wanting to be men, rather than with wanting to be human, which is surely more accurate. And it is difficult to get away from…

My mother said I must always be intolerant of ignorance but understanding of illiteracy. That some people, unable to go to school, were more educated and more intelligent than college professors.

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(via theliteralheartofjesus)

Bourgeois: When using this word it is essential to remember that it is completely bourgeois to say of something or someone, “How bourgeois.” If you do not mind this inference, then the word is at your disposal.

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firsttimeuser:

Untitled, 1940–49 by Konrad Cramer

(via gacougnol)

Oh we’re a mess, poor humans, poor flesh—hybrids of angels and animals, dolls with diamonds stuffed inside them We’ve been to the moon and we’re still fighting over Jerusalem. Let me tell you what I do know: I am more than one thing, and not all of those things are good. The truth is complicated. It’s two-toned, multi-vocal, bittersweet. I used to think that if I dug deep enough to discover something sad and ugly, I’d know it was something true. Now I’m trying to dig deeper.

Few people ask from books what books can give us. Most commonly we come to books with blurred and divided minds, asking of fiction that it shall be true, of poetry that it shall be false, of biography that it shall be flattering, of history that it shall enforce our own prejudices. If we could banish all such preconceptions when we read, that would be an admirable beginning.