I Want To Break Clocks And I Wanna Bend Fate

How did people describe the taste of cilantro before modern soap was invented? Or did the cilantro-tastes-like-soap gene not exist then? (Writing a Socrates x Plato fluff fic)

im sorry youre writing what now

the real reason howl kept his castle moving was tax evasion

If William Shakespeare knew what neopronouns were he’d be unstoppable

They always say, Memento mori , remember you will die (as if we ever forget)

Death is loud, death shows up uninvited, sits at the table and pours you your tea.

But no one taught us how to live, how to hold hands like lifelines, how to kiss like there’s a clock ticking, how to laugh without guilt when the world’s still burning so I write this for you

Memento vivere.

Remember to live.

Touch your friends' faces like art, cry in the supermarket if you need to, take pictures of the sky, text first, say “I miss you” even if your voice shakes. The end is coming, sure...but that’s not the point. The point is you’re here. You woke up again. Your lungs worked. Your heart didn’t forget how to sing.

Memento vivere.

Carve it somewhere soft, say it like a spell, say it until it sticks.

once my brothers friend walked into his room and just started sniffing the air and went “oh i smell a quarter” and then walked over to a pile of clothes and moved it and picked up a quarter and i literally can’t stop thinking about it it’s been like a year and it haunts me to this day

"the trauma made you kind" fuck that. no. i am kind because i cannot allow anyone to go through what i did. i am soft because i chose to be.

The biggest misconception in public schools is that literary analysis is about proving you can be right or wrong about a book you read

Literary analysis isn’t about the book

It’s not even about being right

It’s about performing an investigation and presenting your case to the jury

It doesn’t matter if your defendant killed that guy or not. If you can convince the jury he didn’t, you’ve won

And the incredible life skill of spinning bulletproof bullshit out your ass with a handful of facts and a prayer is soooooooo much more valuable than anyone’s ever gonna tell you

Someday I will have my own place. My world won’t be confined to my room. I will stumble sleepily through the house in the morning, opening the blinds. I will sit out in the backyard and look at the stars. I will go out whenever I want to. I will survive long enough to have that.

• an asexual hero who people cannot avoid even if they go out of their way to try, once the hero has picked them; veey useful in catching supervillains

lgbt rep on television, otherwise known as:

the dead lesbian

the token gay

the suffering bisexual

the non-existent trans person