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The Wild Swans and Others Stories

1922

Artist : Elenore Abbott

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You truly never forget a genuinely kind hearted teacher. When I was in 4th grade my mom went into deep depression for a while and basically had no energy to do my hair anymore aside from brushing it and since it was really long it’d be a knotted mess by the end of the day and my teacher took note and one day asked if I’d like for her to start doing my hair every morning and I happily agreed. From then on while all my classmates had breakfast I’d go into class early and she’d do my hair any way I wanted. She even took a curling iron to curl it for me and got me the prettiest butterfly shaped hair clips because she knew I loved butterflies. Mrs Templeton I love you and still think about you 14 years later…

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i love girls with no ‘maternal warmth’. girls who are affectionate in awkward ways. girls who are not ‘caregivers’ so much as care needers. girls who mean well but come across as assholes. girls who don’t mean well. girls who cry a lot but it isn’t ‘cute’ it’s just annoying. girls who aren’t always the most beautiful one in the room. girls who are obnoxious. girls who kind of suck but u can’t help but love them bc they really are just trying,

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Iris van Herpen

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Celia Kritharioti Spring 2022

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I had absolutely no interest in finding a partner or being involved with someone. I’m truly focused on myself, and out of nowhere the universe drops someone so kind right in front of me. man this person doesn’t just tolerate the things about me that I’m insecure about, he loves them. He loves the things the last person I was with hated. It’s unreal feeling.

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richard siken a primer for the small weird loves // holly warburton making amends // holly warburton bobby // holly warburton the red jacket

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Norbertine Bresslern-Roth (Austrian, 1891–1978)

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Villa di Catignano | by villa_catignano

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Brook Hsu, Pan’s Heart-Character Pond, 2019

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Dior Spring, 1998

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I love the idea of being independent and able to fill my own cup. To be so filled with love that it doesn’t matter if I have anyone else. And I’m trying. I have been for long. Even when I wasn’t alone, I was forced into getting a lot of practice. And I’ve come so far.

But today I bought myself expensive flowers. As an act of stupid Valentine’s love for myself. I’m used to being alone. I was alone even when I wasn’t. I’ve had enough practice to know that it doesn’t matter who buys me flowers, just that I enjoy them. But right now, I feel so weak. Maybe I don’t need another person to be happy, but right now, I’m looking at my flowers and imagining that someone picked them just for me. They picked them because they knew they were perfect for me. And that even though as I carried them into the elevator of my apartment no one knew where they’d come from, that in that moment I could have felt all proud and warm that they were chosen just for me. And then maybe, I could look at them while snuggled up on my couch with the person I wish most in the world were mine, instead of looking at them wrapping myself in a blanket alone. They’d tell me in a silly way not to sleep my night away. And then maybe we’d cook dinner together. Maybe we’d try out that rice cooker I just got. And maybe I would eat something that wasn’t frozen, or even eat at all. And they’d care about how happy this all made me. And they’d be happy too. I’m okay alone, I do just fine. But having someone to share a small world with doesn’t sound like the worst thing

They’re beautiful flowers. I’m happy to have them. And I’m happy I’m okay to carry them from the store and love them myself. But even if they weren’t the most perfect flowers, it might feel so good just to know someone that wasn’t me, cared as much as I did about me having them.

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decriminalize:

sex work

addiction

criminalize: 

golf