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Generation of Sarcasm →
absurdlakefront: think4yourself: azspot:
But where does this deep reservoir of sarcasm come from? Why does it saturate my generation the way a strong work ethic once saturated the Greatest Generation or the way free-thinking saturated the Boomers? Here’s my best guess: I think our sarcasm is a socially acceptable way for us to vent the mountain of anger we feel.
We are the first generation born after the passage of no-fault-divorce. We come from broken homes.
We are the first generation born after Vietnam and Watergate. We live with a broken government.
We are the first generation raised on cable television and 24 hour advertising. We are suspicious of marketing and spin.
We are the first generation to fight a war on drugs. We are over-medicated and under-achieving.
The anger we carry under the surface can’t stay there. It must find a release. Some of us find very destructive ways to alleviate that pressure. The rest of us let it out by laughing about things previous generations took seriously—government, work, family, relationship, the future. We are a generation that believes nothing is sacred. And if nothing is sacred everything becomes profane.
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:)
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(via countsunshine)
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can body language be patriarchal?
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random wikipedia entry
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nautical_metaphors_in_English
(under “navigation,” hit “random article”)
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regina spektor
you and i have a love/hate relationship.
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it didn’t occur to me how lazy some older kids were in college
until i went to college and realized just how threadbare a lot of these majors are…
oh, you’re a political science/english/history triple major? wow, that’s like
2 extra classes off of the political science major, congrats!
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missy higgins - the special two
I’ve hardly been outside my room in days,
‘cause I don’t feel that I deserve the sunshine’s rays.
The darkness helped until the whiskey wore away,
And it was then I realized the conscience never fades.
When you’re young you have this image of your life:
That you’ll be scrupulous and one day even make a wife.
And you make boundaries you’d never dream to cross,
And if you happen to you wake completely lost.
But I will fight for you, be sure that
I will fight until we’re the special two once again.
And we will only need each other, we’ll breathe together,
Our hands will not be taught to hold another’s,
When we’re the special two.
And we could only see each other, we’ll bleed together,
These arms will not be taught to need another,
‘Cause we were the special two.
I remember someone old once said to me:
“That lies will lock you up with truth the only key.”
But I was comfortable and warm inside my shell,
And couldn’t see this place would soon become my hell.
So is it better to tell and hurt or lie to save their face?
Well I guess the answer is don’t do it in the first place.
I know I’m not deserving of your trust from you right now,
But if by chance you change your mind you know I will not let you down
‘cause we were the special two, and we’ll be again.
And we will only need each other, we’ll breathe together,
Our hands will not be taught to hold another’s,
When we’re the special two.
And we can only see each other we’ll bleed together,
These arms will not be taught to need another…
‘cause we’re the special two.
I step outside my mind’s eye’s for a minute.
And I look over me like a doctor looking for disease,
Or something that could ease the pain.
But nothing cures the hurt you, you bring on by yourself,
Just remembering, just remembering how we were…
When we would only need each other, we’d breathe together,
Our hands would not be taught to hold another’s,
We were the special two.
And we could only see each other, we’d bleed together,
These arms would not be taught to need another,
‘Cause we’re the special two. -
j-h:
artpixie | 3nOna
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Someday, someone is going to walk into your life and make you realize why it never worked out with anyone else.
– Unknown (via littlemiss) (via candycoat) (via deconstruct) -
easing up on tumblr
the less time i spend blogging about a life i don’t have, the more of a life i’ll have to blog about! we’ll see how this goes. this isn’t a dramatic departure from tumblr forever, but i definitely want to post less and experience more.
i miss the apache reservation so much.
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(via papertissue)
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dear mother,
you aren’t fooled by my antics. you know what goes on during long weekends and late nights, what lurks in the back of my mind, and what i really want. you know what of me is a charade and what is real. you understand the childlike desire that skulks beyond the underpinnings of skin and blood and tendon and bone, the etching on the inside of my eyelids, and the way my arteries interweave. you know when to say “yes” when you really mean “no” and you know when to say “no” when you really mean “yes, but please don’t.”
for that, i love you, mama, more than you know.
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my tumblarity seems to drop
everytime i become idealistic and only want to post meaningful things.
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i promised myself i wouldn’t buy anything at Target
but then we ran into an entire shelf full of snuggies. ughhh
