I went to my nieces bring a loved one to school day and omg those children are so precious. I fell in love with this sweet little precious girl named Amirah. She had me laughing so hard. Haha. She had so much character and she was the sweetest fucking thing ever. My niece had started crying because we had to leave and here comes Amirah hugging her and consoling her. They looked so cute. And there was this other kid named Kyle who I don’t know why the teacher felt the need to tell me he had a behavior problem and that he might catch an attitude. He was cool. We talked about video games and monsters and some other shit. I feel like if you sit there and you fucking treat a kid like he’s crazy he’s gonna act out and be that “crazy” person you’re stating that he is. I treated him like I would treat any other kid, like how i would treat my niece and he was kind to me and was talking my ear off. I would not had known he had a behavior problem had she not fucking tell me that and make the poor kid feel awkward. I don’t know. She didn’t rub me the right way. I didn’t like that she did that. I gave him a pound and Amirah a hug when I left, I’m not too sure if I was allowed to do that but I couldn’t contain myself. I really adore children.
10:24 am • 11 December 2013 • 2 notes
Artist Yayoi Kusama in her studio in the psychiatric hospital in Tokyo and back in the days in her New York studio.
Having suffered nervous disorders and hallucinations since childhood, Kusama has chosen to live in a Tokyo psychiatric hospital for the past 38 years, and has built herself a studio opposite. Health permitting, she still makes a daily journey from the hospital to her studio to paint.
excerpts from Kusama: Princess of Polka Dots directed by Heather Lenz
6:00 am • 10 December 2013 • 5,328 notes
“I want to be
the first thing you touch in the morning,
and the last thing you taste at night.”
— Thought of the Day | Sade Andria Zabala (via metaphorically)
(Source: xpsycho, via infinantwonder)
11:17 pm • 9 December 2013 • 34,176 notes
“I’m so tired of trying to say things to people and having them not listen, and that’s a lot of reason why a lot of people think I’m either depressed, or sullen, or shy because I just simply will not talk to you unless I think that you’re listening to me. I just simply won’t, I can’t.”
— Fiona Apple (via peace-be-dreams)
(Source: the-apples-were-monitored, via daianayumi)
10:22 pm • 9 December 2013 • 501 notes
“I’m trying to love people because they exist
and not because of what they can do for me.”
— Emery Allen (via rainydaysandblankets)
(Source: wethinkwedream, via ill-uminatedchaos)
10:15 pm • 9 December 2013 • 21,945 notes
“How to love your depressed lover.
Last night I thought I kissed the loneliness from out your belly button. I thought I did, but later you sat up, all bones and restless hands, and told me there is a knot in your body that I cannot undo. I never know what to say to these things. “It’s okay.” “Come back to bed.” “Please don’t go away again.” Sometimes you are gone for days at a time and it is all I can do not to call the police, file a missing person’s report, even though you are right there, still sleeping next to me in bed. But your eyes are like an empty house in winter: lights left on to scare away intruders. Except in this case I am the intruder and you are already locked up so tight that no one could possibly jimmy their way in. Last night I thought I gave you a reason not to be so sad when I held your body like a high note and we both trembled from the effort.
Some people, though, are sad against all reason, all sensibility, all love. I know better now. I know what to say to the things you admit to me in the dark, all bones and restless hands. “It’s okay.” “You can stay in bed.” “Please come back to me again.”
This is so sad and incredibly relevant.
Seeing all the notes comforts me in knowing that I wasn’t the only depressed lover out there. (or the lover of a depressed lover)
(Source: five--a--day, via aprill-showers)
12:40 am • 9 December 2013 • 76,682 notes
Because I always get excited when I meet people with the same last name or in my case one of my last names.
12:39 am • 9 December 2013 • 3 notes
because I have hands that belong to an infant. #thestruggle
11:19 pm • 8 December 2013 • 1 note
I refuse to be ashamed for believing trans women are supremely beautiful, and for declaring so at every opportunity. Partially because trans women are constantly told and joked about that they are awful, ugly, gross, unlovable, and I like to make a point to counter that narrative at every opportunity.
4:34 pm • 8 December 2013 • 1,237 notes