Covertly/Overtly Geeky

divert all power to the funk engine

You wake up one morning, and feel something is off. Your pillow smells strangely sweet. You’re still groggy with sleep, and try to hug your pillow closer. A piece of it simply breaks in your hand. It is made of chocolate.

#i appreciate how genuine and non-judgemental this comic feels #like left one is not upset at right one for caring while being powerless #and right one seems genuinely distraught and not performative

every other week, my mom would make a giant pot of vegetable soup. she'd pack half of it in a tupperware and take it to her best friend's house. they both had three kids whose ages aligned. they'd lock us out of the house and go through each room, finding every piece of dirty laundry and then spend the afternoon keeping the washer and dryer running, folding and putting away each load while gossiping.

“Years ago a friend of mine had a dream about a strange invention; a staircase you could descend deep underground, in which you heard recordings of all the things anyone had ever said about you, both good and bad. The catch was, you had to pass through all the worst things people had said before you could get to the highest compliments at the very bottom. There is no way I would ever make it more than two and a half steps down such a staircase, but I understand its terrible logic: if we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.”

after YEARS of seeing this quote online and finding it to be the most deeply and resoundingly profound writing i finally found the source article and absolutely nothing could prepare me for this opening paragraph

Okay but the whole article is really interesting and also contains this quote which I’ve never heard before but really like: