If You See Me Wandering The Windswept Moors And Highlands In Nothing But A Nightgown Plastered To My

Ok, you said that cleopatra and mark antony are girlboss and malewife.... but who is our catboy?

augustus

“The road to Hell is easy. Pluto’s door is open day and night. But to retrace one’s steps and come back up to the world above, that is the problem.”

— Aeneid, Vergil 

august goals:

heal from relationships that went wrong

be happy about small victories

smile more

say nice thoughts about people out loud

begin a small project that I will work on every day of the month

stop thinking in an “all or nothing” way

yeehaw

Dmitri Shostakovich recording his Piano Concerto No. 2 with the Orchestre National, conducted by André Cluytens in Paris, 1958.

i think yall are just pretending to have an excess of black bile so the doctors will give you more leeches

“Sometimes I think of you, Medusa. Inside your temple, mournful, surrounded by a hundred stone statues. The men who came to kill you and never left were named lost heroes, warriors, demigods whilst you were called monster, gorgon, terror. (Because the stories were always written by men) But this was never a story about a monster. It was always about a woman burned for a Sea God’s sin, a pawn in an ancient game the fates would never let her win. You did not desecrate that which is sacred, it was him. (But your story was always written by men) You begged him not to visit you, you pleaded with every God. But the Gods turned away when you needed them. You did not want to be remembered this way. And then one day, whilst you slept, a son of Zeus came. And killed you before you could even look his way. (And he too was named hero because the stories were always written by men) Someone once said, words cut deeper than a knife. That history is told by the victors. That he who tells the story is the one who controls the world. Women did not get to write your story, Medusa. Because if we did, a very different tale would be told. (And in our tale, you would not be Monster. But Priestess. Goddess. A maiden who once had a heart of gold.)”

— Nikita Gill, Excerpt from Maidens, Myths and Monsters

quiz: are you hamlet, or are you horatio?

I’m going to save up for a new motorcycle by running a scam where I bet straight dudes at bars twenty bucks that I can get a girl’s number in under five minutes and then politely walk up her and say, “I just bet that asshole twenty bucks that I could get your number. I’ll split it with you if you pretend to laugh like I just said a good pick up line and then write a fake number on my hand.”

Like, I never understood those kind of bets in those shitty teen movies. Everybody loves being part of a scheme, man. Use your head.

other people may reject you but if you lie on the forest floor for long enough the moss and fungi will always accept you as one of their own