addicted to the losing fight

ladies we need to start frantically and obsessively reading books in less than 24 hours again..remember how happy we were

twitter makes me so uncomfortable because weirdness on there is so performative…when someone is weird on tumblr you know they’re eating drywall in life for real….

I have blurred childhood memories of stories of misty woods and swamps and witches and frightened heroes and brave princesses... of when I was able to feel the cold crawl up my legs just by listening to an old womens voice reading about a girl running through the wet terrain while I am snug in a blanket and drinking cocoa by a fire place.

thinkin about my (openly gay) lit professor today saying, “one of my favorite historical anecdotes is the time that Oscar Wilde was in America, at the same time that Walt Whitman was active and writing poems about sticking his tongue down other men’s shirts, and Wilde went to Whitman’s house exactly one time and spent several hours there, and ever since all these historians have been like ‘what could they have been doing???? it’s such a shame we’ll never know...’ and I just.... we know. the only question now is who was the top.”

Whitman. No person that writes 'Love is a sacrament best taken kneeling' is a top. (Looking at you Wilde)

Yeah, there’s really no question there.

*feels both “I am so bored & understimulated I want to do EVERYTHING!” and “I am so exhausted & overwhelmed I can’t do ANYTHING” at the same time*