(Reblogged from brutereason)
It turns out procrastination is not typically a function of laziness, apathy or work ethic as it is often regarded to be. It’s a neurotic self-defense behavior that develops to protect a person’s sense of self-worth.

You see, procrastinators tend to be people who have, for whatever reason, developed to perceive an unusually strong association between their performance and their value as a person. This makes failure or criticism disproportionately painful, which leads naturally to hesitancy when it comes to the prospect of doing anything that reflects their ability — which is pretty much everything.

Procrastination Is Not Laziness | Thought Catalog

I’ve posted this before but I’m posting it again because it’s just so important and really gets at the heart of why so much advice about procrastination, much of it targeted at people who have ADHD but are just considered “lazy,” fails. Before you can tell someone to “just do it already,” you need to think about the reasons they’re NOT doing it, like all the meanings they’ve attached to vague terms like “success” and “failure.”

(via brutereason)

(Reblogged from brutereason)

Wore himself out eating what we believe is his 2nd bird of the day. And this one a whole pigeon. Well except the head, Black Cat managed to get that away from him.

norma-bara:

IM RLY DISTURBED BCUS THIS CARTOON ALSO LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE ME LOL 

(Source: sarahseeandersen)

(Reblogged from bonechaos)

diewhitegirls:

THIS IS MY FAVORITE PICTURE EVER

(Source: backpacksandbros)

(Reblogged from bonechaos)

Ten Women I Have Been Warned Against Becoming:

1. The Girl Who Takes Up Too Much Space, always, her shoulders too wide in stairwells, her hips too big in doorways, her voice too loud in classes. This woman does not understand the art of crumbling, of curling herself tight like the spiral of a fern, soft, delicate, unwilling to reach out the ivy of her fingers to grasp onto what should rightfully be hers. This is a beast, an elephant, a moving mountain and she is capable of flattening you, she is capable of ruining you, she is capable of making you feel as small and insignificant in her life as she is supposed to be. You are this woman’s footnote to history, you are her side note in song lyrics, you are constantly interrupted by her with a witty joke you wish you thought of. I asked what the problem was with being a steamroller instead of a sunflower and I was laughed down.

2. The Beautiful One, the long hair or the slim waist or the pretty eyes or the lips like bowstrings. This woman looks good in everything because she’s confident in whatever you put her in. She’ll cut her hair short on you no matter how you like it, she’ll wear high heels and step on your opinions, she’ll look hot as hell no matter what size she is. See, the reason you can’t trust her is because women like this don’t need your permission, they’ll do as they please and get away with it. They’ll say no to you, over and over. Teach your daughters that beautiful means dangerous, teach them to distrust women who love themselves. Equate beautiful with vapid, equate pretty with stupid, take their power from them. Say they’re vain for their makeup, refuse to see them without it. These women are snakes, they are serpents. I said maybe the problem lies with you being unable to control yourself and was told to get off my pedestal.

3. A Bitch. Women are supposed to be ladies in the street but will tear skin under sheets. I’m told: Never raise your voice. Speak gently. Submit. Hold your opinion against your lips and when you admit to it, make sure it comes out as a butterfly wing suggestion. Don’t disagree. Don’t undermine someone else’s authority, regardless of whether or not they deserve your respect. Someone touches you, just move away from them. Don’t hit. Don’t talk back. Be like the ruins of Rome, only beautiful if you can’t hear your quiet death.

4. The Needy One. I have heard how others spit when they talk about how she gave you everything and you shoved it back down her throat until she choked on it, until she came back crawling and asked you what she did, until her palms and knees were scraped for want of just a little affection - never be this woman, I’m told, because she’s a joke and the joke is that she dared to have more emotion than you did. The truth is, I’m told, the one who cares less in a partnership is the one who wins. I didn’t know this was a competition.

5. The Cock Tease, certified stripper, how dare that girl look like that and not want me to sleep with her. Lust is always personified as a lady in red with a dress slit up her thigh. Lust is sinful because it’s power, it’s not asking for attention - it’s demanding it. I’m told she is the worst kind of woman, that looking good is supposed to be some kind of shame on her kin. I’m told not to leave the house in such a short skirt, not with a shirt so low, not with a lace back, not with high heels, not dressed like that. My lipstick can’t be too red, my hair can’t be too mussed, I can’t just “turn someone on like that and then leave them wanting.” I mentioned that instant gratification actually ruins our psyche and was told that being led on was “exhausting.” I said that there was a difference between purposefully tricking someone into liking you and just being attractive or friendly. I was told there’s also a difference between coffee and tea but both result in caffeine. I said, “I’ve been turned on in class by the girls I talk to but I didn’t expect anything from them,” and they said, “It’s different, you’re not a man,” but couldn’t explain where that difference was.

6. A Slut, obviously ruined by another person’s touch. It doesn’t matter how many people she’s actually been with, it’s all about the rumors she carries with her. Easy. Harlot. You’ll still try to get with her, you’ll still take her into your bed and kiss her and say things you don’t mean - but you’ll defame her name when you talk to your buddies. My father used to say “A slut is fine for the night, but the virgin is who you take home and marry.” Maybe he didn’t know he was teaching his daughter to hate her sexuality. Maybe he didn’t know that every time she’d be kissed, her whole system would shake until she felt ready to combust, shame and self-hatred shivering against her spine. Maybe he didn’t know she’d disconnect emotions and sex because he always told her, “Boys are different, they won’t care about you.” Nobody said to her that it was okay to experiment. See, the funny thing is, I’m a dancer so I know exactly where my center of gravity is. I know how hard I’ll fall in each direction. Yet out of fear of getting hurt, I won’t let a single person inside of my bed.

7. The Soulmate. Never love romance more than you love being cynical. Never show weakness, never like pink, never think maybe you might find someone nice and settle down with them. Someone will find you, I was told, And if you’re lucky, he’ll put up with you when you start getting old. Never be the woman who believes in happily ever after, never be dumb enough to think maybe someone could love you after all of your mistakes. It has nothing to do with whether or not a family is important to you and you’re in a good place where a relationship would make your life better - you’re not a princess. You don’t get married, you settle.

8. The Girl With Strength, who can outrun everyone and who is stronger than her boyfriend. “See the thing about boys,” says my daddy, “Is that you have to let them win.” I sat at home and read stories about Artemis and wanted to become the huntress, too. I wanted to howl at the moon, I wanted to slay the beasts that bested me, I wanted to rule my kingdom with bloody fists. But girls are never athletes, never supposed to be “built,” regardless of the fact civilizations were constructed on our spines and we made homes in war by the steel of our ribs. Never be strong. We are supposed to wilt.

9. The Lady CEO: because if you choose work over family, are you really a girl? How dare you fight your way to the top through every pair of eyes that bore through your blouse, through every meeting where you were hushed by the sound of someone else talking, through every time someone called you “sweetie,” how dare you yearn for something. Is your husband the stay-at-home one? I can’t imagine how that is going. He’s not a real man, after all. I don’t give it long before the divorce. How dare you decide you’re happy being single. Don’t you know you’re supposed to bear children. Where is your honor? Where is your wisdom? Who cares if you are the leader, the best suited for your position, the quickest-thinking, the one who makes the hardest clients come back again. Don’t you see? Across history, women have been terrible at success. They always lose their man in the end. (When I said, “I would rather be a famous author than a mediocre mother,” I was told, “No, don’t worry, you’ll be a fine mommy.”)

10. THE GIRL I AM: FIRECRACKER AND DON’T YOU FUCKING FORGET IT I’LL RIP YOU TO SHREDS AND I WON’T FUCKING REGRET IT I’M NOT YOUR PRETTY GIRL I’M NOT YOUR ANYTHING I’M PERFECT, MOTHERFUCKER, AND I’M NOT GOING TO GIVE UP WHAT I’M DOING. I DON’T WANT TO BE “LADYLIKE” THAT LITERALLY MEANS NOTHING I’M NOT GOING TO STOP STANDING UP AND DEMANDING WHAT’S COMING TO ME. I’M GONNA BE SOMEBODY. I’M GONNA MAKE THEM REMEMBER ME. I REFUSE TO BE OVERSHADOWED IN HISTORY. I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU WERE TRYING TO CREATE BUT YOU MADE ME A DRAGON YOU PUT ME IN THE FIRE AND WHEN I STOPPED BURNING I LEARNED HOW TO GLOW DON’T THINK YOU CAN STOP ME YOU CAN’T TAME A TORNADO.

In respectful response to a poem tilted, “Ten men women have warned me against becoming." /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)

work

(via wintry-mix)

(Reblogged from passionisaplagiarism)

mayordickmayor:

kiriamaya:

[Image: Cute drawings of three couples, each with a label indicating what kind of couple they are: a gay cis man and bisexual trans man, a lesbian trans woman and a pansexual cis woman, and two polysexual nonbinary individuals. Underneath each is the caption: “We are a queer couple able to reproduce.”]

boku-no-poltergeist:

can we stop referring to all sex that could possibly result in pregnancy as “heterosexual reproduction” now

YESSSSSSSS

(Also, “pregnant person” does not necessarily mean “woman” for the seventy-millionth time)

I kinda run the risk of Mike Krahuliking myself here. I really don’t mean to be flippant about any of this, it’s just how I talk. It is also a somewhat tangential thought. So:

What is the point of having and defending gender labels at all? They’re untrustworthy patriarchal impositions of a structure of understanding that seeks to define and taxonomize the living bejesus out of everything so as to more easily manage (not to understand) things from a top-down perspective.

Gender is performative, its dynamics and behaviors we’re supposed to emulate are beaten into our heads from day one with a comprehensive, unyielding societal push, involving everything from low hum of monkey-see-monkey-do edged with domains of stigma, to punitive puritanical laws and violence.

The proliferation of super granular identity signifiers and the general rush of tumblr nation to embrace everyone’s Declared Inner True Self as the Real Unassailable Material Identity makes it hard to change one’s mind, try new things, step outside of the now self-imposed prison of labels, play with the wrong toys, have an adventure, grow. They are a barrier to entry, just as binding as binaries we’re trying to shed. When leaving the closet, you have to leave the correct one, otherwise you may have to answer to the gay police or social justice warriors or whatever authority’s drawing up the map.

Queer seems to me the only valuable label—it means ACHTUNG! Elaboration in order! That way we leave room for the messiness of the individual, without having to carry around a fucking tag cloud.

It is of no small importance that the queer umbrella also creates a community, the widest possible one from the parts therein. Maybe we wouldn’t even need queer, in a world where people simply don’t make hard, charged assumptions about gender, sexual preference, etc.

As I am writing this I feel like I might be mangling a wide array of identities, gender expression and sexual preference under queerness in a potentially myopic hubrisy mansplainy way. Maybe it is worth noting that these categories need to exist for some structural reason I am not thinking of right now, but…

It wasn’t until about the mid nineteenth century that GAY became an identity; we didn’t conceive of PEOPLE as gay/homosexual, but individual acts of intercourse. Just now, looking for more in-depth thinking on the subject, I found this bit by Foucault who was the one who observed that semantic shift:

Homosexuality appeared as one of the forms of sexuality when it was transposed from the practice of sodomy into a kind of interior androgyny, a hermaphrodism of the soul. The sodomite had been a temporary aberration; the homosexual was now a species.

Who is to say how unnecessarily complicated our perspective about any of this even is due to the language we choose to frame it in? Who is to say that a vast number of people aren’t some kind of queer under nuanced circumstances, but shudder to play around due to having to own up to a new identity to do so? No one likes tourists and the denizens of the queer alphabet soup are no different.

I dunno, I guess my point is, who cares about this gritty multi-axis taxonomy? Why don’t we just go out there in whatever clothes feel right for the day, fuck the people we’re attracted to at the time, mod our bods until they feel true—without wasting all this air on abstractions meant to pen in what seems to be infinitely flexible and up in the air on one hand, but buried under millennia of structured patriarchal thought on the other?

From where I’m standing all these labels seem to be in favor of those patriarchal thought structures rather than a liberation from them.

Labels because this http://meloukhia.net/2014/03/we_need_labels_because_the_alternative_is_disappearing/
And this http://feminspire.com/why-labels-matter/

(Source: pokemoneggs)

(Reblogged from mayordickmayor)
Ultimately, most things that are offensive are also lazy and unoriginal; because you can’t reach that point of view by looking at the world honestly…You reach that point of view by taking short cuts and by just sort of repeating what someone else told you.
(Reblogged from fuckyeahcitizenradio)