Everyone reblog this post.

my overwhelming need to be attractive at all times vs the voices of mary oliver and mitski telling me i don’t exist to be consumed, fight

can we ever truly separate our feelings about our mothers’ sadness from our feelings about our own childhood sadness, watching her? our own sadness as women who watch our loved ones marry men like our fathers? our own sadness if we were stuck in our mothers’ lives?

So many situations in movies where there’s something scary happening and the women are in hysterics but the men are completely calm.. doesn’t seem realistic at all

have u ever seen a man be minorly inconvenienced….catastrophic

Gemini season mood

another confusing thing is when a man calls you beautiful or something and you watch him watching himself say it and you see that he’s more impressed by his own observation/consumption of you than by your organic presence and you realise the whole thing is basically a performance and his ego is the audience

The doctor was unable to separate the art from the artist. I’m so sorry.