Hey dove. Here’s the trick: you give them your favourite books and say “Here’s my heart and mind and personality and identity. I think I like yours, so, if you like mine too we could make a great team”, and if the person cannot appreciate the thoughts and stories that struck your heart as wonderful, and cannot relate to why you slept with precisely that paperback under your pillow, then they will not know what you are about and you are better off with the books than their attention (or so I believe). And if they can, then you’ve found yourself a lifelong friend and comrade.
Here’s another trick: don’t try to please someone into liking you; charm them by being who you are instead of trying to be who you think they would like you to be. Not because it can’t be done, but because you will frustrate your true self in the process.
Perhaps sidetracking from your question a fair bit, pardon me for that, but it made me think; in any case since they are asking for a recommendation from you, they surely trust your taste and would like one based on your preferences! (I would recommend Murakami for anyone though, because he writes accessibly and beautifully, and about life and everyone relates to life.) x
This smooth motherfucker is Søren Aabye Kierkegaard, a Danish philosopher, theologian and poet from the 19th century. He was so smart that in order to properly expound his ideas on how we as humans should live, that he wrote a huge number of articles under a variety of different pseudonyms in order to be able to argue with himself. To this day, he is still a highly influential theological thinker, and his ideas on faith and individual worship were revolutionary for his time. Plus, look at those gorgeous big eyes.
Hello lovely, how incredibly sweet of you to ask!
Right now I am feeling somewhat weary; I took an exam today and I spent all morning and day revising, revising, revising.
This morning when I realised that December is in full swing (well, it’s the second, but days are short, so) I felt somewhat anxious that very very soon, yet another year will have passed me by. But then I thought of all the things I’ve done, and all the things that have happened and I felt relieved - this is the first time in a long while I remember thinking that I don’t even mind the year ending like this, I have no regrets so to say, there’s nothing in the past I need to fix, nothing in this year I still need to get done; do you know the feeling?
And then, thinking of all the wonderful things that are still awaiting me in the weeks of December to come, I felt great great great, and I’m looking forward to all those days and all the things in them.
Thank you, thank you again for asking you’re a sweetheart! Goodnight xx
Sand, under a 250x microscope
file under things that make me want to cry about the magnificence of the world
Other compliments that do NOT focus on appearance:
It’s so nice to hear your laugh.
It’s good to see you.
I’m glad you’re here.
That was clever.
You’re so thoughtful.
You make me laugh.
Selfies, selfies, everywhere: in our Facebook feeds, in our news reports, in our dictionaries. But what do these tech-enabled self portraits say about their subjects? And, indeed: What do they say about us? Are they, as their names might suggest, symptoms of narcissism? Are they empowering? Are they a cry for help?
They are probably, on some level, all of those things—in addition to being just, you know, playful pictures. But here’s another thing about selfies: They are not new. Selfies, contemporary anxieties about them notwithstanding, are very, very old.
The latest reminder of this (which is also an appropriately aged reminder of this): the selfie above. Which was, apparently, snapped by the Grand Duchess Anastasia (yep, that Anastasia) in 1913, when she was a teenager. The youngest daughter of Russia’s last czar is using the wildly popular camera of her time—the Kodak brownie, released in 1900—and a mirror to capture her own likeness. She is gazing at herself. She is looking at herself. She looks, to me, a little bit curious. And a little bit excited. And a little bit scared.
Read more. [Image: Retronaut]
ezra need to see this
Tavi Gevinson (via feministquotes)
Feminism is also not a country club, doesn’t require credentials, doesn’t require White supremacist approval and should not have a separate set of standards for Black women/women of colour versus White women, where a pulse and White skin is all they need but I have to be bell hooks.
Plato, because his work defies the limits of what can be achieved in one human life and because people have been laughing at his jokes for nearly two thousand years;
Virginia Woolf, because when you read her, each word falls into place as if it just grew on the page or something equally natural and beautiful (kind of like when flower petals follow the Fibonacci sequence; the symmetry is so incredibly precise yet it remains unpretentious) and every word just belongs right where it is;
and Sappho, because the few words that remain from her can move mountains.
Agnes Letestu at the barre - Paris Opera Ballet School
:—) :—) Thank you love, anytime! x
Hello dove! I have only danced a few years myself so on ballet terms I also started “late”; thus it is strictly a hobby for me as well. From my experience most dance schools specify which ages should attend kids’/youth/teens’ class, so all students take class with their own age group regardless of their level. Some schools may prefer young beginners (from age 12 or so) to attend adult class, where you certainly won’t be the oldest! If you happen to have several dance schools nearby I am certain you’ll find a class that suits you, and I absolutely encourage you to try it out! xx