"The worst part about anxiety attacks, is that you’re aware it’s irrational and sometimes unexplainable, but knowing that gives no aid what so ever. In most cases it deepens the anxiety as you realise “if I know it’s irrational, why can’t I stop it… Oh god I can’t stop it” you begin to believe you are no longer in control of your mind. That. That is fear."
Ami Desu (via grrrlstudies)
(Source: amidesu, via sixtyforty)
While checking out a few bands for my Village Voice column over the weekend, I spotted this choice bit of bathroom graffiti at Brooklyn music venue Glasslands. In it, some alt bro had stated his weirdly specific guidelines for the perfect Manic Pixie Dream Girl: Converse hi-tops, red lipstick, mom jean shorts, a Bauhaus t-shirt with expensive lingerie showing, no tattoos and….well, you can read the rest above. While that does indeed sound like a cool outfit, it smacks of a type of mythologizing of women that’s a common affliction of the young bohemian male. At best it’s sort of harmless and stupid; at worst it keeps them from treating women like people when attempting to engage in romantic relationships with them. (Ask me how I know!) And only in Williamsburg would a straight guy care so deeply about every last detail of clothing on a potential mate’s body.
Anyway, some riot grrl wasn’t having it, and scribbled her reply below. As childish a gesture as bathroom graffiti is, it still kind of makes me want to carry around a Sharpie at all times to “correct” all the things that annoy me. Hideously Photoshopped magazine covers? Draw the fat back in! Is a woman being portrayed like a sexy baby? Draw her some parents! Is some dude grinding into my ass on the subway? Write the word “DOUCHENOZZLE” on his face. Really, the possibilities are endless.
by Jamie Peck
I do this. Walk around with a sharpie correcting things, I mean.
(via str8forzuko)
The TARDIS flying to some Joanna Newsom
