WHEN LIFE GETS TOO TOUGH
@6 months ago with 682 notes
@8 months ago with 4023 notesn. the glint of goodness inside people, which you can only find by sloshing them back and forth in your mind until everything dark and gray and common falls away, leaving behind a constellation at the bottom of the pan—a rare element trapped in exposed bedrock, washed there by a storm somewhere upstream.
Get some sleep.
Eat an orange every morning.
Be friendly. It will help make you happy.
Hope for everything. Expect nothing.
Take care of things close to home first. Straighten up your room
before you save the world. Then save the world.
Be nice to people before they have a chance to behave badly.
Don’t stay angry about anything for more than a week, but don’t
forget what made you angry. Hold your anger out at arm’s length
and look at it, as if it were a glass ball. Then add it to your glass
ball collection.
Wear comfortable shoes.
Do not spend too much time with large groups of people.
Plan your day so you never have to rush.
Show your appreciation to people who do things for you, even if
you have paid them, even if they do favors you don’t want.
After dinner, wash the dishes.
Calm down.
Don’t expect your children to love you, so they can, if they want
to.
Don’t be too self-critical or too self-congratulatory.
Don’t think that progress exists. It doesn’t.
Imagine what you would like to see happen, and then don’t do
anything to make it impossible.
Forgive your country every once in a while. If that is not
possible, go to another one.
If you feel tired, rest.
Don’t be depressed about growing older. It will make you feel
even older. Which is depressing.
Do one thing at a time.
If you burn your finger, put ice on it immediately. If you bang
your finger with a hammer, hold your hand in the air for 20
minutes. you will be surprised by the curative powers of ice and
gravity.
Do not inhale smoke.
Take a deep breath.
Do not smart off to a policeman.
Be good.
Be honest with yourself, diplomatic with others.
Do not go crazy a lot. It’s a waste of time.
Drink plenty of water. When asked what you would like to
drink, say, “Water, please.”
Take out the trash.
Love life.
Use exact change.
When there’s shooting in the street, don’t go near the window.
- Ron Padgett
@9 months agoI met her down at the apothecary
Her sad sad eyes, the burden she carried
Oh darling, try this one if you need a friend
I’ve got the cure for the shape that you’re in
When you met me you were numb from the voice in your head
Conspiracy delusions that your boyfriend kept fed
I swear I want nothing, just give me your hand
I’ve got the cure for the shape that you’re in
With her saccharine luster, she’s a hard little pill
But she eased me and taught my hands to be still
Just once in the morning, and evening again
She had the cure for the shape I was in
All delusions of grandeur, they’ve long left my head
As I gave up the notion that I’ve been well bred
First she shot me with whiskey, then chased me with gin
But swore I was the cure for the shape she was in
Then she left me here reeling with that time-release feeling
Like a long wisp of hunger, I swung from the ceiling
So if you see me down at the apothecary again
I can’t find a cure for the shape that I’m in
- The Low Anthem
@9 months agoI just want to disappear into a hole and pretend that no one knew I ever existed to begin with.
@8 months agoim so ashamed of my generation like wow are you human
(Source: freshpetal, via authenticityisinvaluable)
@8 months ago with 82798 notes@9 months ago with 8560 notesn. a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life, a mood whose only known cure is the vuvuzela.
I’m sick of my friends
And sick of my boyfriend
And excited for time to move forward
So eventually I
Can have an excuse
To turn around and leave them
Change my face and
Keep quiet
Maybe become the paper bag princess
So I can deflate
From all the pressure filling up in me
Sick of her face
And sick of your face
I want to recline your invitations
So I can breathe in the calmness
Of my own room
Get rid of all the static
That comes along with being human
Comfortable with the quiet
Entailing the absence of you and him
Relieved in dead silence