Is It Really Sacrilegious If I'm Right?

For legal reasons, pretend this is not a confession. [x]

you know what, screw falling uncontrollably in love. Nah man. I want to meet your eyes across the room for the first time and start grinning. A slow, spreading smirk. I want to think 'oh, you bastard. I've been waiting for you. Hello.' and I want you to smirk back.

Just got transferred to Gotham Police Department from Central City, and it's so...weird?? There was an immediate drug bust, the perps were wearing speedos and joker masks, my partner just subtracted 20% of the cocain as "travelling fees" 'cause we're driving through the east end?? What! is! this place!!

At least rent's low.

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers (ू•‧̫•ू⑅)♡ (no pressure)

Wow, this is like a sudden smile from the stranger on the bus you take every morning together.

Okay! 5 things!

looking forward to a summer party I organised, meeting my friends

realising I could perfectly recreate my childhood ice tea (and i DID)

realising I wasn’t ‘failing’ for suddenly preferring some basic clothes instead of my usual vintage

finding out that I really like my summer job

my newest, beautiful obsession, Anne of Green Gables. It’s so *sobs happily*

This was fun! Nice to meet you! <3

I made a list. It's incomplete. Working title:

The pre-apocalyptic "omg moooom" phase:

- ww3 memes

- organising climate crisis protests at 14

- Not knowing the "before". Before the housing crisis. Before 9/11. Before Reagan laws. Before debt.

- no going out. No dates in cute restaurants. Do I look freaking rich.

- Amazon or Nestle owning everything you have ever had

- America just.... I'll just say America.

- Being 5th grade when Trump came into office

- No being able to turn off the ads. The manipulation. Ever. The deep psychology approach to making me despise myself since I learnt to decode information

- constant exposure to violence and suffering numbing us until we're called ignorant and heartless for not reacting

- social media algorithms specifically designed to crush and turn me into an addict. Since before I got my period.

- no more girlhood. You know how to pull an eyeliner and perfectly curl your hair in 7th grade or you die.

- no public spaces. There's Sephora, there are some chain restaurant. And if you feel like feeling a drop of relief you buy a Starbucks.

- Cyber. Bullying. Being on your own. Your parents have no goddamm clue.

Where's My Fucking Teenage Dream but it's real. Where's my fluffy 90s hair, my glitter hair combs, my shopping-as-a-hobby, my milkshakes, my prom? Where's my "my favourite colour is yellow?" Yellow like Butter Flowers, not like toxic waste. Can we talk about growing up in the years before a global system snaps? I was 7 when I read a picture book about Anne Frank. Who knew the early knowledge of how to spell 'death' would be so handy.

how much of ur online presence is performative and how much is it u being u

What I can't cope with, OK, is L.M. Montgomery's use of bedrooms as a site of both autonomy and belonging. When Emily arrives at New Moon, she has to share the bed with Aunt Elizabeth and feels she is in bed with a griffon but when she moves into Juliet's old bedroom in the "lookout" she is overcome with the sense of nearness to her mother as well as having true space and freedom for the first time at New Moon. Later, she loses a lot of this sense of place and independence moving into Aunt Ruth's spare room where she doesn't have to share a bed, but can't even choose the pictures hanging on the walls - at the same time she loses her freedom to write fiction. Jane hates her bedroom at 60 Gay Street, finding it "hostile and vindictive" - in many ways just like Grandmother Kennedy, but at Lantern Hill, her father lets her choose everything that goes into her bedroom and she is allowed self expression. Her friends give her gifts to furnish it, as emblems of their love for her. Like Jane, Valancy has no control over the furnishings in her room, from the painted floor to the tacky artwork to the dingy and unwelcoming furniture, but she's so constrained that her only rebellion is to throw the jar of potpourri out the window because she's "sick of the fragrance of dead things". To have a sense of self, she imagines a magnificent castle as an escape and is delighted to find Barney's house is just as good a place to be who she wants to be - free from her family, making her own choices. Anne, upon marking the first anniversary of coming to Green Gables, reflects on the garrett room and finds it "as if all the dreams, sleeping and waking, of its vivid occupant had taken a visible although unmaterial form and had tapestried the bare room with splendid filmy tissues of rainbow and moonshine." Before Green Gables her life was probably a mix of dormitories and makeshift beds in attics that she couldn't change, in versions of her life with no freedom or affection. THEIR BEDROOMS ARE SYMBOLS FOR THEIR LIVES OK. When their rooms are controlled by others, their inner/emotional/creative lives are constrained. When they have their own rooms, they have autonomoy, they choose furniture, they have freedom, they have themselves, they have love, they have me gnawing armchairs about it.

Also funny that both Valancy and Emily are tormented at various times by inescapable portraits of queens - I do wonder if LM had one in her home that no one would let her take down.

if there’s one wisdom i can leave you with its smoke weed, eat local, and fuck often