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and the bbc seems to think that a horse racing story, a yahoo/tumblr story and the queen visiting...

Mon, 20 May 2013 14:41:31 -0400

and the bbc seems to think that a horse racing story, a yahoo/tumblr story and the queen visiting chelsea is somehow more important than the fact that a gay man was shot in the face for no reason other than his sexuality, and was just the latest in a pretty sizeable string of gay hate crimes. I’m sick of the media being selective about the way it presents (if it even bothers) issues of race, religion and sexuality. fuck this shit.

so heterosexuals want civil unions to be an option for heterosexual couples on the basis of...

Mon, 20 May 2013 14:24:33 -0400

so heterosexuals want civil unions to be an option for heterosexual couples on the basis of ‘equality’, some of whom are the same heterosexuals that are against marriage equality…this debate gets more ridiculous by the minute. if they give fucking straight people civil unions they’d better give gay people marriage. and then we’ll see how many straight couples opt for a civil union over marriage. because if ‘civil unions are identical to marriages’ then by that logic there should be loads of hetero civil unions. I promise you now that there will be practically no hetero civil unions, because people know that it isn’t the same, they know that marriage is more. I can’t wait to see all the conservatives enter into civil unions, I mean, they have been telling us for years that marriages and civil unions are no different from one another. and I can promise you that once marriage equality is legal, there will be practically no civil unions between gay couples either because they will almost all opt for marriage. this entire thing is bloody stupid. fuck cishets.

tagores: IT’S MY JOB!

Mon, 20 May 2013 13:36:34 -0400

tagores:

IT’S MY JOB!

elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey: 3-2-1queer: When I was in fifth grade I realized I liked girls but...

Mon, 20 May 2013 13:36:10 -0400

elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey:

3-2-1queer:

When I was in fifth grade I realized I liked girls but I was like “that’s a problem for another day” and literally forgot about it and then in like eleventh grade I was like “oh my god”

YOU PROCRASTINATED REALIZING YOUR SEXUALITY THAT’S IT YOU WIN YOU ARE THE QUEEN OF THE PROCRASTINATORS i bow to you

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Sun, 19 May 2013 13:14:25 -0400

@johnmulaney: and they lived happily ever after.

Sun, 19 May 2013 08:36:06 -0400

@johnmulaney: and they lived happily ever after.

My Dear Melchior,

Sun, 19 May 2013 08:35:51 -0400

Mama will not let me leave the house. She says I am a disgrace, and I have bought shame on the family. She says…she says I can never see you again, Melchi. But I simply must see you again! I am going to sneak out, after dark, and hide this note in your private place. I think I will sit there for a while – it holds so many wonderful memories of our times together, and I am sure you will find it. I hope you are sent home soon, Melchior, because I have to see you; I want us to be together again.

I saw Ilse, last week. She climbed through my window in the middle of the night to deliver your letter to me. I told her that I am going to have a child – our child. You know, Melchi, she is the first person who hasn’t reacted in horror, or regarded me with disdain. It felt nice. I think she understands what happened…she told me all sorts of stories. She was the last person to see your friend, Moritz Stiefel, before he died. But you probably know that. Oh Melchi; there are women that Ilse knows…they tried to kill their child whilst it was still inside them. How could one possibly do such a thing? She told me about them. There was one woman who is dead, because she drank arsenic to try and kill her baby. But it killed her too. I can’t even imagine how I would go about doing such a thing.

Ilse seems…odd. She has changed from how she was before she was thrown out of her home. Melchi, sometimes, I think Papa wants to throw me out too. He says I will burn in hell for my sins, he says God will never love or forgive me. But how could God be angry with me for something so sweet and wonderful? When we were together, Melchi, and you touched me, I have never felt more content. Surely that is not a sin? I thought God wanted everyone to be happy…and now, something beautiful has come of it: a child. How can God hate me for this? I know you don’t believe in God. Sometimes I’m not sure if I do. But we will talk about this, and you can teach me what is right and wrong.

Tomorrow, Mama says we are going to go to another doctor. I don’t know why. She keeps slipping out of the house, and having whispered conversations with some stranger in our kitchen. It is all so strange. Melchior, I did not know that being with you, holding you, in that way, could make a baby. I asked Mama and she told me a ridiculous lie – too ridiculous to say. I had no idea what we were doing or what would come of it. But I enjoyed it so much – it’s amazing, that a man can go inside a woman. I think about it whenever I can; it felt beautiful. And I do not blame you for anything. You touched me, and I let you love me. You were always doing the right thing. Don’t you think it’s amazing, Melchi? I don’t know how a baby could be made by doing that…but I think it is remarkable. When I found out, and I thought about it…I felt so happy. Everything seemed beautiful and complete.

I am going to ignore the whispers of our society, and love this beautiful new life whispering inside of me. I know that you don’t believe in love, not really. I’m not sure, but I want to just write it down, even if I can’t say it. I think…Melchior, I love you. I remember the love I felt, that night, in your hayloft. You showed me…I think I should call it an awakening, maybe. It’s as if I was born with my heart and my body half asleep, and after fifteen years you woke them up, and they began an amazing day in that paradise…I don’t know. But I do know that I love everything about you; to me, Melchi, you are perfect. You are so faithful, so adoring. I never want to be without you, ever. I will always love you. So let that be my story.

Your Wendla.

bill hader has left snl….I am…no no I can’t

Sun, 19 May 2013 07:34:40 -0400

bill hader has left snl….I am…no no I can’t

‘Saturday Night Live’ 38x21

Sun, 19 May 2013 07:33:46 -0400

‘Saturday Night Live’ 38x21

i’m not crying it’s just been raining on my face

Sun, 19 May 2013 07:32:59 -0400

i’m not crying it’s just been raining on my face

Photo

Sun, 19 May 2013 07:32:33 -0400

Moritz's Diary

Fri, 17 May 2013 11:32:40 -0400

mrsmelchiorgabor:

14th October

I have not slept. I have been haunted by a nightmare, a vision from hell. I was dreaming, and then I found myself in school. That is where it started – so I could tell straight away it would not be good. Oh it was awful. There were legs, two legs…I think they were female, in sky blue stockings. They began climbing over the lecture podium during Latin, and nobody could see them apart from me. It made me think I was going mad. But then I looked at the legs, properly, and found I couldn’t look away. Why? I don’t know. They made me feel…strange. It wasn’t painful, or even bad at all, not really. But something at the back of my mind told me I shouldn’t be looking, shouldn’t be thinking about them. So I woke up – and found something wet and sticky in my nightgown, on my skin. A result of the devil’s mind games, no doubt. It smelled funny, and I didn’t want to touch it. I am going to have to tell someone about this; I am afraid to sleep again. But how do I talk it? I can’t ask Father. Certainly not Mama. Maybe Melchior. He might understand.

15th October

Melchior has given me the essay, like I asked. But it has only made everything worse! I thought it would be safe to sleep tonight, now that I had some idea of what was happening – I still cannot comprehend that all boys have these dreams. Why? What is God’s reason for this? Melchi doesn’t believe in God. I’m not sure how I can, any more, but I couldn’t possibly say this aloud as he does. It is lucky that Frau Gabor is so open minded and liberal that she lets him say these things. I am certain that the devil must have found a way to get around God and torture all the young men. Last night, the legs were walking towards me…but this time there were breasts and – and Labia Majora – it was too much! It was fascinating but I know I should not even be thinking about such things! Especially after what Melchi wrote in the essay, about the female…I can’t stop thinking about it. Surely it cannot be true; how could it? I couldn’t sleep after that, so I prayed fervently to God, to take the dreams and the sticky mess away. I don’t know if he is real, but if he is, then maybe he will take pity on me. Surely he can see I am ashamed of myself.

16th October

I went to see Melchior today. He told me that the part about the female is true! I did not believe him – what the woman would feel is beyond imagination. But Melchi, he does imagine it – he even thinks about it! All the time. And he wants to give this pleasure to a woman; he says that women yearn for these strange things too. I didn’t believe him; the girls I know are always playing silly games, racing each other home, talking meaninglessly. Well. I think Ilse is different. She talks and behaves as if she knows more about this than the other girls. Although, I suppose she is living with the Bohemians, so this can only be expected. Besides, I think that most of what Ilse says isn’t true. I remember how she told people that her father was being…inappropriate towards her. That couldn’t possibly have been true. What in God’s name would possess her father to do that? Then she was thrown out of her home, for embarrassing her family. I hate to think what Father would do to me if I embarrassed him…but the girls like Anna and Thea, they don’t think about these things, but maybe…maybe Martha does? She seems quieter than the others, like she has something to hide. I have wondered what it is, but I know I oughtn’t to ask. I like Martha. She isn’t loud and immature like her friends, and she is…well, she is pleasant to look at. I confess, I found myself thinking about her in a different way earlier, but I stopped myself. It is – well surely it is evil to think about women in such a way? Melchi doesn’t think so. I don’t know who he thinks about, but he made it plain that he is always doing so. Still. Martha is special, she is different. But I cannot think about her like this, I must stop. She will never think this about me. I am just a sad, stupid sleepyhead. That is all I will ever be.

5th November

I passed! I passed the middle term exams. Finally, it seems as if my life will be alright again. Melchior was so proud of me, and the others too – though Hanschen was a little sceptical. Still, I passed…oh, truly, heaven must feel like this! This is surely God’s reward for conquering the ghosts in my mind. If I can only pass the finals, then my future is safe, and people will see Melchi and I as equals – not, as they do now, as a young man of distinct intellect, Herr Gabor, polluting himself with me, a neurasthenic imbecile, out of pity. I am Herr Stiefel. I am worth something.

27th November

Something truly terrible has happened. Something I cannot possibly tell anyone about, it is too shameful. Yet, I have been ordered to tell Father. Just when I thought I was safe, that my future was good. And I have almost begun to understand, maybe even have some control over the dreams. And then I fail. Fail. The teachers! They destroy everything. They have destroyed me. I desperately want to talk to Melchi, but I don’t know where he is. He’s been distracted at school for weeks, and today I saw him walking down his street, looking distraught. I’d never seen him be anything other than calm, confident. As if nothing could bother him. I could have sworn he was crying. I tried calling out to him, but he ignored me. He knows. And now he doesn’t want to be friends anymore. I suppose I don’t deserve a friend like Melchi. He was always so kind, so understanding. I have no one but myself to blame. Anyway, I wrote a note to Frau Gabor – Melchior’s mother. She seems quite open minded, and less judgemental than my parents. She is – well, was – the only adult I can rely on to be kind to me. Until I arrived home, and found her response lying on my bed. I opened it eagerly, and then discovered that now she has left me behind too, like all the others have. And now I don’t know what to do. All I need is some money, and she won’t give any to me. I am certain she was laughing when she wrote her response; saying my requests are absurd. As if writing to my parents is going to make any difference! They will still hold me in contempt, beat me, tell me how ashamed they are that I am their son. What will Mama say? She will be so upset. And Father…he will regard me with contempt for the rest of my miserable life. It’s not as if they ever were, but I can’t call them my home anymore. Who knows what they will do? She told me my relationship with Melchior is still intact, but I doubt this is the case. He will not want to be friends with me – a failure – whilst he goes on to university and becomes successful. Oh just fuck it! There’s no point in living any more. Why should I live, when everyone and everything has betrayed me? I’ve betrayed myself! I’ll just carry on, living through day after day of utter shit, whilst nobody knows or cares. I have decided. I will. I will end my life. I’ll be an angel.

Moritz’s diary ends here

I GOT INTO AMDA AND THEY OFFERED A SCHOLARSHIP AND HOLY SHIT OH MY FUCKING GOD I CAN'T EVEN RIGHT NOW OH FUCKKKKK

Fri, 17 May 2013 11:00:56 -0400

guerrasfrias: #aka how I feel about the finale of The Office

Fri, 17 May 2013 08:20:33 -0400

guerrasfrias:

#aka how I feel about the finale of The Office

pussincowboyboots: This made me cry, Michael <3

Fri, 17 May 2013 06:34:27 -0400

pussincowboyboots:

This made me cry, Michael <3

hrtwrm: Goodbye Dunder Mifflin :(

Fri, 17 May 2013 06:32:33 -0400

hrtwrm:

Goodbye Dunder Mifflin :(

: Closing quotes from The Office's series finale:

Fri, 17 May 2013 06:30:26 -0400

: Closing quotes from The Office's series finale::

iwantyoualive:

Jim Halpert: ”I sold paper at this company for twelve years. My job was to speak to clients on the phone about quantities and types of copier paper. Even if I didn’t love every minute of it, everything I have I owe to this job… this stupid, wonderful, boring, amazing job.”

Pam Halpert: “I…

frankcrimes: “Michael, I can’t believe you came” “That’s...

Fri, 17 May 2013 06:27:11 -0400

frankcrimes:

“Michael, I can’t believe you came”

“That’s what she said”

I just watched the office finale and I am a sobbing wreck

Fri, 17 May 2013 06:27:04 -0400

I just watched the office finale and I am a sobbing wreck

mrsmelchiorgabor: There is one night each year, when Melchior goes back to his small hometown. He...

Thu, 16 May 2013 14:03:40 -0400

mrsmelchiorgabor:

There is one night each year, when Melchior goes back to his small hometown. He lives far away now, in the big city. His parents and classmates wanted nothing to do with him after the incidents that took place all those years ago, back when he was just sixteen.

He gets there after dark, when the streets are silent. Melchior walks past his old school and the house he called home for sixteen years. Just seeing these places reminds him of everything that went wrong so quickly.

Finally, Melchior arrives at the church. He wastes no time there - he lost his faith twenty years ago and never found it again. Instead, he goes to the graveyard, behind. It is midnight. Even now, after all this time, he still has some mad hope that Wendla will stumble out from behind a tree when the clock strikes. That’s what he’d hoped for on that hideous night long ago, and that’s what he uselessly hoped for now.

She should be an adult now. The delicate flower in bloom that she was at fourteen should now be fully grown. But some people just like to rip up flowers.

He looks at their graves, the cold pieces of stone pressed firmly into the ground. Not for the first time, Melchior wonders how it came to be that the things he loved more than anything were trapped for eternity in the place he hated more than anything.

Now, as he reads their names carved into rock, comes the moment of realisation. They are both in the ground. They are not coming back.

He’s had wild moments when he’s wanted to dig them up. He’s had mad nights when he could have sworn he saw Moritz dance, was certain that he could see Wendla’s smile. But it never is them. It is nothing.

Melchior is there for a long time. At some point, Ilse will usually appear. She will stand next to him and they will stare at the tombs in silence for a long time. It’s the closest he ever gets to reverence.

After a while, her hand will find his. Hers is small and milky white, his is strong and firm. She looks at him for a moment, and as their eyes meet Melchior sees tears in hers, before finding tears in his own that he didn’t even know were there. Ilse squeezes his hand gently and manages a small smile. He grips back, holding onto this, his only lifeline, as hard as he can, because Melchior learned a long time ago that nothing is certain. And nothing lasts forever.

No words are needed for these two. Both grew accustomed to having nothing a long time ago.

Melchior always thinks he’s moved on from this tragedy. Always thinks he’s over it. But when he sees their names and the day they died staring him in the face as he stands in the cold cemetery, he finds an exception to his assumed absolute. Tragedy can last forever.