Flowers on my mother’s balcony.
Ada, 24, France. Translation student. Likes reading, writing, vegetarian cooking, intersectional misandry and listening to Courtney Love.
Currently reading Our Kind of People by Lawrence Otis Graham and rereading The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman.
Currently reading Our Kind of People by Lawrence Otis Graham and rereading The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman.
David Foster Wallace: This is Water
I saw an edited, animated version of this speech a few days ago (can’t find it anymore) but the full thing is really better. The message of this is something I for one would do good to remember more often. Also, I don’t know what college this was delivered at, but judging from the reaction of the audience, no one paid any attention or made any effort to understand what was being said. Which I guess only proves the point more.
I haven’t read anything by this guy yet, but I’m thinking I just might add him to my neverending list of authors to read.
Getting Tumblr Savior: still my best life decision in months.
Yes, thank you.
(via tenrec4tea)
This almond tree was almost entirely uprooted, but new branches keep growing from the main boughs.
On the train.
Irises, fava beans, my grandfather’s hand — south of France.
“
Erica had the most twisted ideas.
“I say we use his exact same methods. We send him chocolates, flowers, sick letters like the ones he sent Cristina. ‘You know, you really are a bad person for not forgiving me and I am such a good person for noticing I made a mistake. I’m sure it hurts much more than what I did to you. Please speak to me again. I am a nice person, as you can see from the fact that I take no notice of your opinion and feelings. This is not about what you need but about what I deserve. Stop making everything about yourself. I’m not an arsehole anymore, please give me your eternal gratitude and a bunch of cookies.’ I could write pages and pages. We could send them to his home address and to his workplace, too.”
He would never feel safe again. He would know what it was like, being a woman. It felt illegal, but it felt fair, too.
Chapter twenty of The Foreign and Immigrant Women’s Book Club is up!
South of France.
South of France.
Hey guys, can you tell I’m not around much these days? I’m in the south of France visiting my family for a few days. I’ll get back to full-time indoor guilt trips in a few days. In the meantime, enjoy the pictures I took.
Borago.
DRAWING DAILY SUNDAY EDITION: SUNDAY TRICK. Yep, this is frighteningly accurate this Sunday morning.
