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Every night at eleven I have to choose between enjoying the sweet embrace of slumber or staying up late to do something enriching and fun that I wouldn’t otherwise have the opportunity to do. And every night at eleven I take the secret third option of “doing nothing on my phone until one in the morning.”
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I just want you all to know, that if and when this site does experience a real exodus and/or get sunsetted for good, even if we don't keep in touch I'll remember you so fondly. You're the online equivalent of the other kid on the beach where we built sandcastles together; the girl at the campsite where we explored the trees. You're the drunk person who shared kind words in the bathroom at the club, you're the talented artists at the life drawing class or the poetry night in a city where I don't live anymore. It makes me sad that maybe in the future our paths won't cross so easily, but even when we leave this little shared piece of cyberspace, carried away on our briefly intersecting trajectories, just know I still love you
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Oresteia: Agamemnon by Aiskhylos, tr. by Anne Carson [ID in alt text]
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I laughed so fucking hard at this
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Being a young adult is so strange. You enter a coffee shop. The 20 year old girl waiting behind you cried all night because she just came to a new city for university and she feels so alone. That 27 year old guy over there works a job he is overqualified for, he lives with his parents and wants to move out but doesn't know what to do about it. That one 24 year old dude already has a car, a house, and a job waiting for him once he graduates thanks to his dad's connections. The 26 year old barista couldn't complete his higher education because he has to work and take care of his family. The 28 year old girl sitting next to you has no friends to go out with so she is texting her mother. That couple (both 25 years old) are married and the girl is pregnant. The 29 year old writing something on her laptop has realized that she chose the wrong major so she is trying to start all over. We are not alone in this, but we are actually so alone. Do you feel me
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The real secret of the universe is *checks notes* homosexuality?
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someone said we had more fun in childhood because we didnt have any past memories to linger on and it has stuck with me ever since
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do you ever see someone in some quiet intimate moment and suddenly love them so desperately you feel like you’re dying
#like when they pass a mirror and make a face and mess with their hair a little #or when you hear someone singing in their car with the windows rolled up as they drive past you #i don’t know how to express this i just. people are people and it makes me so sad and filled up sometimes
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I think the university course database should have a filter to only show classes taught by extremely old people who are insane
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feel a sense of kinship and solidarity with every woman i see sitting alone in public reading a book
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Chipmunk loves eating watermelon 
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“Is there anything better than iced coffee and a bookstore on a sunny day? I mean, aside from hot coffee and a bookstore on a rainy day.”
Emily Henry, Book Lovers
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At night I dream of public transportation networks so efficient they make cars obsolete
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percy’s view of himself: i’m so stupid and ugly and useless. i’m such a lame demigod
literally everyone else’s view of percy:
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percy’s view of himself: i’m so stupid and ugly and useless. i’m such a lame demigod
literally everyone else’s view of percy:
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me, consuming media: oh no, I hope this awakens something in me. I hope it's all I can think about, and that I smile to myself while considering the facets of it, turning it over in my mind and watching it refract light into rainbows. I hope it grows in me like a flower, twining through all that I am, so that in 30 years I can look back and realize I don't remember what I was like before I loved it. I hope I can find joy in it even when it's fallen to the back of my mind. I hope I remember that first moment I felt drawn to it, and the moment I knew it would stay. I hope I will be defined by the way I love.
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LEVELS OF INTIMACY: according to this
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