last night my mom was like “you know what? you should go to law school, you’d be a great lawyer” and all i can picture is lawyer-me making fart noises with my mouth every time the opposing lawyer tries to talk
i don’t want to be a part of a college system where plagiarism is a worse crime than rape
I’m really surprised at how much people trash on the Total Drama style and designs because it seriously has one of the most impressive ranges of female characters I’ve ever seen in any cartoon in my life.
Not a single one of these girls looks too much like another (aside from the identical twins).
I tell myself I want handholding, I want words, I want skin and lust. I tell myself that I want another body beside my own, another heart to kill my loneliness. But the kind of love I imagine myself wanting never seems to line up with what I’m romantically capable of.
Some people are loving machines. From the moment they were taught about love, they’ve known nothing other than how to give pieces of themselves away. But I am not a loving machine. I don’t know the first thing about the human heart, except for what I learned in Biology. I don’t know how to open up. My thoughts go dumb and my words fall out of my mouth, twisted and mangled.
I don’t know how to say I love you, and I go numb when I think of holding another person’s hand. Kissing is beyond comprehension.
Some nights I want to dine on your body as we laugh at those who call the flesh a sin. I want to convince you to skip your Sunday mass. We can reenact the Eucharist as I sigh into your thighs. I want to trace your rib cage with my fingers and learn the constellation of freckles on the canvas of your back. I want to know what kind of force can drive a shy boy to give in to lust.
But I’m not a lips-and-limbs kind of boy. I don’t know how to undress and trust someone to do the same. I don’t know how to peel layers of myself off and not get blood on the carpet. I’m not a lips-and-limbs kind of boy. I’m the kind of boy who writes bad poetry and slips it under your door because he’s too self-conscious to recite it out loud.
a bunch of kids trying to lure adults into their white van with taxes and briefcases
somebody should write an essay comparing and contrasting tina from bob’s burgers and meg from family guy and explain why tina hit the mark for respectfully portraying the awkward teenage years and why meg is a huge fucking insensitive joke that isn’t even funny
Tina is a character, Meg is a punchline.