“So many gods, so many creeds;
So many paths that wind and wind,
While just the art of being kind
Is all the sad world needs.”

She’s all laid up in bed with a broken heart,
while I’m drinking jack all alone in my local bar.
And we don’t know how,
how we got into this mad situation,
only doing things out of frustration.

Trying to make it work but man these times are hard.

She needs me now but I can’t seem to find the time.
I’ve got a new job now on the unemployment line.
And we don’t know how,
how we got into this mess
Is it a God’s test?
Someone help us ‘cause we’re doing our best.

thedebonairgentlequeer:

wryer:

“In 1921, early suffragettes often donned a bathing suit and ate pizza in large groups to annoy men…it was a custom at the time.”

TIME TO REVIVE A CUSTOM

(via positivelypersistentteach)

“Suicide happens when the pain you are in is greater than the pain you are able to bear. Sometimes, that spike in pain is temporary, and you can recover from it if you can tough it out. But when you see a lifetime ahead of you of toughing out that kind of pain… sometimes you just don’t feel like you have the energy, or that it’s even worth it. You just want to be at peace.”

he tells me the past is the past, it’s all behind us. I want to tell him we carry graveyards inside of us, and the ghosts can conjure feelings of inadequacy at their leisure and without our permission.

he tells me to be happy to be alive. I want to tell him there are things far worse than death.

I want to be an open book for someone who will press their face to the pages, trace the words with their fingers, will not leave me forgotten on a shelf. I want my binding to be worn, my words to be so well known they are almost memorized. I want my smell to invoke comfort, to demand to be read again and again.

I want to be held in someone’s hands, and be loved for every misspelling, every dogeared page, every tear, every sentence that doesn’t quite flow.

“I used to imagine adventures for myself, I invented a life, so that I could at least exist somehow.”

You might be sitting with him at the kitchen table drinking coffee from mismatched mugs and saying nothing because sometimes saying nothing is the best thing to say. He’s miles away, and you’re thinking you should take a shower or fix your hair or at least brush your teeth because you feel dirty and self-conscious. You wish the sun weren’t so bright on your face and you wish there was something other than corn flakes for breakfast so your stomach won’t start making hideous noises. You’re about to open your mouth and say something to break the silence, but he speaks first. He tilts his head slightly and says:

“You make me really happy.”

And you will agree he does, too.

— Carrie Laski, Things To Say Besides I Love You  (via oitheresawargoingonhere)

(via lizlizlovely)