シ - ✎ - ϟ - ツ

I read Facebook status updates
from my stepmother and don’t
feel like I understand. She
mourns a love she won’t have
again even though she has my
mother. She is a good woman,
kind, funny, sometimes cruel,
but I care for her and owe her
many things. So for all this, I
do not understand her loss. I
have struggled to find love for
her in my heart. Certainly, she
has done so much to rise my
family above struggle, been
benevolent beyond means. I’m
just scared. Scared because I
don’t get it. There is in fact
something I am missing here. I
have a tender heart and very few
people hold it, it isn’t out of
spite that I lack commitment on
this. I feel affection, concern,
I dwell on the troubles brought
to her. But I don’t understand.



Jelly Belly Chairman donates $5000 to help turn back the rights of trans kids in California to use the bath room and change rooms of their gender identity, not assigned sex.
Source: THE AGE

this had better work

this had better work


Stand up comedian who keeps assuring the audience he is, in fact, joking.

I was born and grew a few years in a low-
income, fairly diverse neighborhood. It was
ok cool at the time, but my mom, brilliant
woman, was determined that I live nowhere
near like she did and pulled some strings
to move us out to the woods/suburbs. We

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thats ourt of line wait


sometimes when you look at someone, especially someone young, you get too good a look. You see the life heaved messily, meagerly, into the person. You get a sense of the slow-traveling trains of thought, the mean streaks and off-chances, everything that has had to be crossed out or memorized so far. The parts out front–the eyes; the teeth and tongue inside the open, moving mouth–look cheap and detachable, unset, just barely staying put.
Gary Lutz, Stories in the Worst Way (via uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh)