terminal kalopsia

My name is Ariel. I am eighteen, inclined towards creative writing, prone to fits of fangirlish ecstasy, generally quite neurotic, and a student at Williams College.

writing | & | jukebox


Favorite selfies to date. I aspire to emulate Jenny’s command of red lipstick. (In the meantime, I’m practicing my bitchface for Frosh Revue.)


There are some… really amazing people here at Williams. I don’t know if I can say that I feel part of the college at large, but between my colorful cult family, a beautiful writing club, an avant-garde theater collective, a D&D group, and some really badass socially-conscious pockets of student activism, I can maybe say that I’ve found several cozy niches. It’s a foreign, but very good, feeling. (And, as per usual, I will cling desperately to these social ties that justify My Place In The World until people get sick of me.)


Faced with the daily prospects of failure and self-loathing, a numb chrysalis starts to develop around you, and if you are not careful you wake up one morning to find yourself not awake, but in a semi-comatose state, baked into a hardened shell, breathless and mind-numbing. You have to poke your finger through the hardened crispy shell, and after you’ve pushed it through you have to wiggle it about until eventually the hole is big enough to smash a whole fist through.

Tracey Emin - My Life in a Column - Friday 5 October 2007 (via thesourceofallpower) +

bear ↑


bear ↑




Can you imagine the YW characters playing D&D?

"Can Carmela play Eye of the Tiger on her lute every time I talk?"—Dairine, the Avenger

"Please tell me I am allowed to insult this orc on his poor attire."—Roshaun, the Mage

"Can I do a Charisma check to get this prostitute to pay for the privilege of sleeping with me?"—Carmela, the Bard

"Yes, this setting started out pre-industrial, but I don’t see why it should have to stay that way. I’m going to teach the dwarves about ion tech and worldgates.” —Sker’ret, the…I forget what engineering-related classes there are in D&D but I know they exist…

"Okay, yes, Nita, that might be technically allowed, but I’m not sure it’s in the spirit of the rules…” —Tom Swale, the DM

"I don’t see how exponentially multiplied firepower isn’t in the spirit of the rules. Isn’t the point to be creative?” —Nita Callahan, the Sorcerer

"I’m gonna need a great roll on this Diplomacy check, I can already tell. If not, well, then we go to plan B.” —Kit Rodriguez, the Fighter

"I get the feeling I should have prepared more healing spells for you all." —Filif, the cleric




I’m so sick of seeing people say “feminism is about *~*equality*~*!!!”

The end goal of feminism IS equality, but feminism itself is about liberation: from white supremacy, from homophobia, from sexism, from ableism and all other forms of oppressive thought and behavior.

Without first dismantling the systems that keep us oppressed, equality is impossible.



Sigur Rós - Í Gær


The Person You Love Won’t Always Make You Happy, Especially When They Just Need Time Alone


The person you love won’t always make you happy. If love is a tattoo then it won’t always ink laugh lines into the corners of your eyes or needle joy into the grooves of your heart waiting to be filled. Sometimes it will leave bruises in the corners of your skin where you assumed only color would be.

The person you love is like a shadow box- occupied with space after space of scars, failures, lyrics, favorite astronomical terms, regrets, words that were meaningless and hurtful that they said anyway, and simple joys. They’re constantly on a mission to occupy their own skin with ease, just as you probably are, and in doing so, they have to claim their own territory. Their skin is their land and their land only, unless they want it to be shared, whether it’s acres or millimeters. And when a person is on a mission to occupy their own body easily and safely, they may not want to let someone else in all the time. They may just want some time alone in their body or time to think and sleep and breathe. This probably won’t lead to happiness on your behalf, especially when this person is someone you love deeply, as deep as the Marianas Trench or quicksand. Because when you love someone, often you want to spend as much time next to them and inside them, literally or figuratively, as possible.

But when they push you away, you can’t drag your feet. You can’t stick to them like sandpaper.

You have to let them go. Not just on a tether or in an allotted space twenty feet away, but as far away as they wish to go, whether it’s for a few hours or a few weeks, holed up in their bedroom under heavy down blankets or compulsively and sadly drinking alone.

Whatever they choose to do, you have to learn how to leave them be. Because “alone” doesn’t always have to equate to “loneliness.” Sometimes you can feel more lost and abandoned with someone else than by yourself, and if the person you love is feeling like this, then you have to respect their boundaries.

And yes, boundaries are hard. The Pacific Ocean doesn’t always want to constantly stay inside its lines and against sandy shores; it probably wants to spill over in tidal waves and tsunamis every once in awhile, but it has to respect the levees that hold it back. And maybe the Equator wants to be redrawn sometimes, placed on the other side of the world, but maybe the other side of the world doesn’t want it there. So a compromise has to be made, and that’s that.

Sometimes the person you love will need some space, and that’s the how and the why of it. Not necessarily space like an entire universe filled with a billion different constellations and black holes, but maybe just a tiny portion of that universe. A single corner of it, perhaps. Maybe one or two black holes to occupy, to stay in and with until they want company again.

And this will likely make you unhappy and unwilling to let them go off on their own, exploring that tiny slice of universe, but just like wind, you’ll never know that desire in the person you love exists until it threatens to blow you down.

You just have to learn how to weather the storm. Without them this time.

But even in the middle of a hurricane, there is always a lighthouse that will guide you home.



Im all for girls drawing and writing self indulgent bullshit, especially considering about 97% of the media around today is just men writing and drawing self indulgent bullshit

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