And that’s the most frustrating thing about depression. It isn’t always something you can fight back against with hope. It isn’t even something — it’s nothing. And you can’t combat nothing. You can’t fill it up. You can’t cover it. It’s just there, pulling the meaning out of everything. That being the case, all the hopeful, proactive solutions start to sound completely insane in contrast to the scope of the problem.
It would be like having a bunch of dead fish, but no one around you will acknowledge that the fish are dead. Instead, they offer to help you look for the fish or try to help you figure out why they disappeared.
(x)
Maybe I’m biased because I make my own clothes, but skirts are better than trousers because you can put bigger pockets in skirts. With trousers, you’re limited to the size of your leg but with skirts you can just fill it up and people will just assume you’re wearing a petticoat until they hear the crunch of the Dorito bags.
Just once I’d like the see an historical heroine be asked if it bothers her that she has to wear skirts and have say, “Not really. I couldn’t fit this in a waistcoat.” and just pull out a loaf of bread or something and start eating it right in front of the baffled male lead.
It would work great in the 1700s with those removable pockets, you could fit a couple of Italian loaves in there.
how to know if tumblr has been eating your asks: send yourself anywhere between 5-10 asks, ( anon or not ) but have each ask be nothing but an order in which you sent them.
i.e: the first ask says ‘1′, the second says ‘2′, etc etc.
i sent myself ten of these, both on anon and not. This was all i received back:
Tumblr is now eating asks along with notifications. We must be more interactive than ever if we want keep this form of entertainment we call the rpc. Go ahead and warn your friends or test this for yourselves.. This post is reblogable.
i am a grown ass woman, an academic, a published researcher, a criminologist, i even pay taxes and have a lease on a comfortable but reasonably priced sedan, but the second i see the number “69″ in any context its like i’m being possessed by the spirit of every 13 year old boy worldwide simultaneously. the lizard brain frantically slams the shutdown button on my reasonable mental processes with manic glee and the word ‘nice’ is out of my mouth quicker than a wildfire during a drought