Yes, Clarissa thinks, it’s time for the day to be over. We throw our parties; we abandon our families to live alone in Canada; we struggle to write books that do not change the world, despite our gifts and our unstinting efforts, our most extravagant hopes. we live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep - it’s as simple and as ordinary as that. A few jump out of windows or drown themselves or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us, that vast majority, are slowly devoured by some disease or, if we’re very fortunate, by time itself. There’s just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seen, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we’ve ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) knows these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning; we hope, more than anything, for more.

Heaven only knows why we love it so.

The Hours, Michael Cunningham, pp. 225-226.

We were lied to. The women of my generation were told that we could ‘have it all’, as long as ‘it all’ was marriage, babies and a career in finance, a cupboard full of beautiful shoes and terminal exhaustion – and even that is only an option if we’re rich, white, straight and well behaved. These perfect lives would necessarily rely on an army of nannies and care-workers, and nobody has yet bothered to ask whether they can have it all.

We can have everything we want as long as what we want is a life spent searching for exhausting work that doesn’t pay enough, shopping for things we don’t need and sticking to a set of social and sexual rules that turn out, once you plough through the layers of trash and adverts, to be as rigid as ever.

As for young men, they were told they lived in a brave new world of economic and sexual opportunity, and if they felt angry or afraid, if they felt constrained or bewildered by contradictory expectations, by the pressure to act masculine, make money, demonstrate dominance and fuck a lot of pretty women while remaining a decent human being, then their distress was the fault of women and minorities. It was these grasping women, these homosexuals and people of colour who had taken away the power and satisfaction that was once their birthright as men. We were taught, all of us, that if we were dissatisfied, it was our fault, or the fault of those closest to us. We were built wrong, somehow. We had failed to adjust. If we showed any sort of distress, we probably needed to be medicated or incarcerated, depending on our social status. There are supposed to be no structural problems, just individual maladaption.

Mainstream feminism is tepid and cowardly: Work, sex, race, “having it all” and true liberation - Salon.com (via becauseiamawoman)

paperfoxxes asked:

Hey - are eyeliner and eyebrow pencils just the same thing? Will using an eyeliner pencil for my eyebrows work less well? (Sorry if you've been asked this before - couldn't find it in the archives.) xxxxx

wllpwrwithwords:

powderdoom:

Nope I wouldn’t think so….. They’re both pencils that are eye safe and go on your face. Maybe eyebrow pencils have more wax for a longer lasting effect but like, peanuts. 

paperfoxxes eyebrow pencils, imo, tend to be drier, and eyeliner (pencils) softer. So an eyebrow pencil might fade faster when used on eyebrow area (esp if you don’t have a lot of hairs to “protect” the lines you draw).  Bc they’re harder and “bleed” less pigment, it’s easier to make mor subtle, tiny, hair-like lines than with an eyeliner pencil that’ll give you more pigmented, less subtle lines.

potato potato, i guess, depending on what u want to do or what colors you’re into for your brows (i mean generally difficult finding bright orange _eyebrow_ pencils) but eyeliner pencils are more pigmented/smoother/softer and might smudge and bleed easier on eyebrow area. (obvs also depending on which eyeliner/eyebrow pencil.)

so, imo ther IS a difference, but wheather that difference will matter depends on what u wanna do w your brows.

thanks!

So what? You failed your finals. You gained some weight. So what? You’re single again. You lost your job. So what? What now? You live. You try again. That’s what.

(via entflohen)

sociology-of-space:

Planted ‘Garden Bridge’ Bridge across the Thames.
Thomas Heatherwick, the designer behind the cauldron at the London, 2012 Olymipic Games; has drawn up plans to build a new naturally landscaped bridge crossing the River Thames between Temple and the Southbank Centre.
"This garden will be sensational in every way: a place with no noise or traffic where the only sounds will be birdsong and bees buzzing and the wind in the trees, and below the steady rush of water. It will be the slowest way to cross the river, as people will dawdle and lean on parapets and stare at the great cityscapes all around; but it will also be a safe and swift way for the weary commuter to make his way back over the Thames.
"There will be grasses, trees, wild flowers, and plants, unique to London’s natural riverside habitat. And there will be blossom in the spring and even a Christmas tree in mid-winter. I believe it will bring to Londoners and visitors alike peace and beauty and magic."
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/luxury/travel/4162/a-garden-bridge-across-the-thames.html

I am torn because this is a Boris vanity-project but it also sounds fucking beautiful.
Zoom Info
sociology-of-space:

Planted ‘Garden Bridge’ Bridge across the Thames.
Thomas Heatherwick, the designer behind the cauldron at the London, 2012 Olymipic Games; has drawn up plans to build a new naturally landscaped bridge crossing the River Thames between Temple and the Southbank Centre.
"This garden will be sensational in every way: a place with no noise or traffic where the only sounds will be birdsong and bees buzzing and the wind in the trees, and below the steady rush of water. It will be the slowest way to cross the river, as people will dawdle and lean on parapets and stare at the great cityscapes all around; but it will also be a safe and swift way for the weary commuter to make his way back over the Thames.
"There will be grasses, trees, wild flowers, and plants, unique to London’s natural riverside habitat. And there will be blossom in the spring and even a Christmas tree in mid-winter. I believe it will bring to Londoners and visitors alike peace and beauty and magic."
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/luxury/travel/4162/a-garden-bridge-across-the-thames.html

I am torn because this is a Boris vanity-project but it also sounds fucking beautiful.
Zoom Info

sociology-of-space:

Planted ‘Garden Bridge’ Bridge across the Thames.

Thomas Heatherwick, the designer behind the cauldron at the London, 2012 Olymipic Games; has drawn up plans to build a new naturally landscaped bridge crossing the River Thames between Temple and the Southbank Centre.

"This garden will be sensational in every way: a place with no noise or traffic where the only sounds will be birdsong and bees buzzing and the wind in the trees, and below the steady rush of water. It will be the slowest way to cross the river, as people will dawdle and lean on parapets and stare at the great cityscapes all around; but it will also be a safe and swift way for the weary commuter to make his way back over the Thames.

"There will be grasses, trees, wild flowers, and plants, unique to London’s natural riverside habitat. And there will be blossom in the spring and even a Christmas tree in mid-winter. I believe it will bring to Londoners and visitors alike peace and beauty and magic."

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/luxury/travel/4162/a-garden-bridge-across-the-thames.html

I am torn because this is a Boris vanity-project but it also sounds fucking beautiful.

slaughterhouse90210:

"The less I identify myself with my body the more I feel myself required to take care of it, It relies on me, and I look after it with bored conscientiousness, as I might look after a somewhat reduced, somewhat wanting old friend who needed my help."—Simone De Beauvoir, The Age of Discretion

slaughterhouse90210:

"The less I identify myself with my body the more I feel myself required to take care of it, It relies on me, and I look after it with bored conscientiousness, as I might look after a somewhat reduced, somewhat wanting old friend who needed my help."
—Simone De Beauvoir, The Age of Discretion