One day you wake up and you're 23 or 25,or 27 and suddenly everything feels like it's moving too fast. You miss something can't you quite name. Not a person, not a place, just a feeling. The feeling of being young, when everything was new and the smallest moments felt big. Late night talks with friends, walking home in the dark laughing about nothing, summers that felt like forever. You just want that again - to feel alive in the little things, to slow down, to be here, really here, before it all becomes another memory.
Seems important to remember she disowned him, not the other way around. She gave up perhaps the largest inheritance in human history because that's how important it is to be yourself
🚨we heard you loud and clear🚨
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these men really want us to believe that they’re our allies. to all my fellow ladies who aren’t trans, if this is how they treat trans women publicly, it’s incredibly likely that that’s how they treat women who aren’t trans in private. trans women are our allies, not transphobes.
Life is amazing:
-gyms exist
-Coke Zero exists
-hot girls outnumber even moderately put-together dudes 2000 to 1
-you and your wife can drink 4 bottles of wine then smash all night without a condom
-you and your friends can hit the gym then smoke a joint at a John Mayer concert
-every food item in the world has been hunted and gathered for you (grocery stores)
-you could be working 16 hour days in a coal mine in a third world country
-you’re spinning on a sphere in an infinite universe and the fact you’re alive is a 1 in 500 trillion miracle
You’re so lucky it’s absurd and you have nothing to lose :)
People who think they are extremely self-aware are often doing nothing more than turning themselves into a permanent psychological project. Every reaction is analyzed, every emotion is interpreted, every insecurity is examined, every childhood event is revisited.
They call it awareness, but most of the time it is simply self-preoccupation with intellectual decoration around it. The ego has not disappeared, it has become the observer, the analyst, the therapist, and the patient all at once. Years can pass this way. The prison remains exactly where it was. Only the description of the prison becomes more sophisticated.