## ORANGE & GREEN MOODBOARD !?

seeing anyone going “ok fandom blog” “you’re a ___ fan I’m not listening to you” in any context on this app is SO funny to me like imagine voluntarily choosing to spend time in a sewer with a bunch of other people and then being like “wow you chose to be in the sewer for THAT? my reason for willingly spending time in this sewer is so much better than yours and I am much cooler than you” girl we are all in the damn sewer.. we all wear the same clown makeup... be humble.....

???????????????

toshiasan on Instagram

Brian Wilson went to bed for three years. Jean-Michel Basquiat would spend all day in bed. Monica Ali, Charles Bukowski, Marcel Proust, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Tracey Emin, Emily Dickinson, Edith Sitwell, Frida Kahlo, William Wordsworth, René Descartes, Mark Twain, Henri Matisse, Kathy Acker, Derek Jarman and Patti Smith all worked or work from bed and they’re productive people. (Am I protesting too much?) Humans take to their beds for all sorts of reasons: because they’re overwhelmed by life, need to rest, think, recover from illness and trauma, because they’re cold, lonely, scared, depressed – sometimes I lie in bed for weeks with a puddle of depression in my sternum – to work, even to protest (Emily Dickinson, John and Yoko). Polar bears spend six months of the year sleeping, dormice too. Half their lives are spent asleep, no one calls them lazy. There’s a region in the South of France, near the Alps, where whole villages used to sleep through the seven months of winter – I might be descended from them. And in 1900, it was recorded that peasants from Pskov in northwest Russia would fall into a deep winter sleep called lotska for half the year: ‘for six whole months out of the twelve to be in the state of Nirvana longed for by Eastern sages, free from the stress of life, from the need to labour, from the multitudinous burdens, anxieties, and vexations of existence’.

— Viv Albertine, To Throw Away Unopened.

Productivity is not mandatory during this quarantine. Stop being so hard on yourself. You do not need to accomplish important things every single day. You are not a machine. You’re human. Let yourself breathe.

sometimes i wish i could grab my childhood self and shake them by the shoulders and say YOU'RE GOOD. YOU'RE WORTH LOVING. THERE ARE PEOPLE WHOSE LIVES ARE MADE BETTER BECAUSE OF YOU. YOU ARE NOT A BURDEN. YOU ARE NOT DAMNED. SOMEDAY YOU WILL CRY OVER SUNSETS AND POETRY MORE THAN YOUR OWN PAIN. I NEED YOU TO REMEMBER THAT YOU'RE GOOD. YOU'RE WORTH LOVING. but i can't go back in time, so i say it to myself now. because i believe there's a future version of me looking back on this moment feeling the exact same way.

truer levels of chaotic behavior have never been observed

in honor of the pride month, my asexual themed post:

lmao this feels so stupid to say but i’m still not used to seeing my posts pop up under the p1h tags??