how-will-they-tell-my-story:

lucyliuism:

i feel like reading fanfic has kind of broken my desire to read published stories bc like theyre so bland tbh like. where the hell am i gonna get queer android romance in a bookstore. who writes about past assassins working together in a coffeeshop. all i see are straight white people making out like really like REALLY

YOU PUT THAT THING I FEEL INTO WORDS

So I always spend Sundays with my mom and her boyfriend of many years is always here too, and he is just the epitome of an upper middle class cishet, white, naturally charismatic male.  He spends the entire time talking about himself and his life and if you even do so much as make a little joke about how he talks NONSTOP he gets all pissy.  

I work full time above minimum wage and still can’t afford an apartment, bills, AND loan repayments, and he thinks that all I need to do is try harder and just find a different job, and that since he worked hard and did well EVERYONE who works hard should do well and anyone who isn’t doing well isn’t working hard and I just

ugh

Want to just yell like shut up at him sometimes. 

femme-and-furious:

defend jewish women who are afraid to wear their star of david necklaces because they have been targeted

defend jewish men who are afraid to wear their kippot and peyos because they have been assaulted and murdered

defend jewish students who have been relentlessly harassed by “activists” at their colleges

defend jews who are being blamed for politics they have nothing to do with

swanjolras:

gosh but like we spent hundreds of years looking up at the stars and wondering “is there anybody out there” and hoping and guessing and imagining

because we as a species were so lonely and we wanted friends so bad, we wanted to meet other species and we wanted to talk to them and we wanted to learn from them and to stop being the only people in the universe

and we started realizing that things were maybe not going so good for us— we got scared that we were going to blow each other up, we got scared that we were going to break our planet permanently, we got scared that in a hundred years we were all going to be dead and gone and even if there were other people out there, we’d never get to meet them

and then

we built robots?

and we gave them names and we gave them brains made out of silicon and we pretended they were people and we told them hey you wanna go exploring, and of course they did, because we had made them in our own image

and maybe in a hundred years we won’t be around any more, maybe yeah the planet will be a mess and we’ll all be dead, and if other people come from the stars we won’t be around to meet them and say hi! how are you! we’re people, too! you’re not alone any more!, maybe we’ll be gone

but we built robots, who have beat-up hulls and metal brains, and who have names; and if the other people come and say, who were these people? what were they like?

the robots can say, when they made us, they called us discovery; they called us curiosity; they called us explorer; they called us spirit. they must have thought that was important.

and they told us to tell you hello.