I was reading a book (about interjections, oddly enough) yesterday which included the phrase “In these days of political correctness…” talking about no longer making jokes that denigrated people for their culture or for the colour of their skin. And I thought, “That’s not actually anything to do with ‘political correctness’. That’s just treating other people with respect.”
Which made me oddly happy. I started imagining a world in which we replaced the phrase “politically correct” wherever we could with “treating other people with respect”, and it made me smile. You should try it. It’s peculiarly enlightening.
I know what you’re thinking now. You’re thinking “Oh my god, that’s treating other people with respect gone mad!”
Neil Gaiman (via programmersbeingdicks)
<3
(via programmersbeingdicks)
Depression is humiliating. It turns intelligent, kind people into zombies who can’t wash a dish or change their socks. It affects the ability to think clearly, to feel anything, to ascribe value to your children, your lifelong passions, your relative good fortune. It scoops out your normal healthy ability to cope with bad days and bad news, and replaces it with an unrecognizable sludge that finds no pleasure, no delight, no point in anything outside of bed. You alienate your friends because you can’t comport yourself socially, you risk your job because you can’t concentrate, you live in moderate squalor because you have no energy to stand up, let alone take out the garbage. You become pathetic and you know it. And you have no capacity to stop the downward plunge. You have no perspective, no emotional reserves, no faith that it will get better. So you feel guilty and ashamed of your inability to deal with life like a regular human, which exacerbates the depression and the isolation. If you’ve never been depressed, thank your lucky stars and back off the folks who take a pill so they can make eye contact with the grocery store cashier. No one on earth would choose the nightmare of depression over an averagely turbulent normal life. It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too. No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged.
Depression is not a synonym for being sad or having a bad day/bad week.
(via morningsuns)
Things I wished more people understood about this/me. Especially those close to me.
(via bottleage)
Always reblog.
(via stuckinthebelljarwithyou)
(via morbidfashion)
if i’ve said it once i’ve said it a hundred times:
lube is pretty much identical to anti-frizz serum
Youtube is chock full of curly/natural hair vloggers reviewing lube as a hair product.
Well many lubes do advertise that they’re “never greasy”.
Now *I* am curious. I did get a bunch of free sample during Pride…
(via sc0rnflakess)
Sarah Parmenter:
It’s with great sadness I have to speak up about something. I’m not sad myself, nor am I particularly hurt – but being scared into silence is not an option. The reason I’m sad is that the person involved with what I’m about to speak up about, could be a member of our community. Infact at the moment, everything is pointing to the fact they are. They are currently feeding off the suppression of this topic, so I’m writing publicly about it.
After all my years of searching, I have found a high impact, large-cupped sports bra that both fits my weird tiny ribcage AND bust. And, most gloriously, it actually WORKS.
I spent the evening last hopping around my apartment testing it out.
IT IS AMAZING.
Can you imagine? I can actually run… without worrying about knocking myself out. Some of you may see this as an overreaction, but it is not. You have no idea.
You can find it here. You’re welcome.
PS: What are some tags I can use to tell others of this miracle?