Scorpio Zodiac Facts
This graphic is fabulous. It represents a tiny crash course in rhetoric. Learn these things. Put them on your wall. Whisper them into the breeze. These are THINGS TO KNOW.
loved learning about these so much alfkgkalaks
“Marina Abramovic and Ulay started an intense love story in the 70s, performing art out of the van they lived in. When they felt the relationship had run its course, they decided to walk the Great Wall of China, each from one end, meeting for one last big hug in the middle and never seeing each other again. at her 2010 MoMa retrospective Marina performed ‘The Artist Is Present’ as part of the show, a minute of silence with each stranger who sat in front of her. Ulay arrived without her knowing it and this is what happened.”
My chest feels like it’s about to explode.
For levity’s sake… Imagine being the asshole who walked up next…
Scorpio in the bedroom.
Eccentric… that’s polite.
If I ever hear you refer to a human being as perfect, my respect for you will instantly plummet.
You can have a perfect day or a perfect meal. You can watch a perfect sunset, gaze on a perfect work of art, hear a perfect song. You turn in a perfect essay, you take or see a perfect photograph, or you bury your nose into a perfect bouquet. Peel off your perfect outfit and take a perfect shower, and afterwards, climb into bed for a perfect night of sleep.
But nobody, no person, no human being, is perfect. I don’t care how beautiful or talented they are. Call them beautiful. Call them talented.
But don’t you dare…
… trivialize the flaws, foibles, eccentricities, nightmares, neuroses, foiled plans, lost hopes, stumbles, struggles, burps, blemishes, scars, failed math quizzes, heartbreaks, missed alarms, moldy leftovers, lonely nights, silly habits, superstitions, tears, papercuts, sweat, fears, unread books, obsessions, prejudices, dusty shelves, dirty laundry, hangovers, stubbed toes, and bouts of flat out insomniac depression of a living, breathing, human…
…with a word as reductive as “perfect”.
Who are you to decide that the actor from your favorite T.V. show or the model on the cover of that magazine or the oh-so-lovely person two rows away in that lecture hall never had the difficulties of a human life? You do not own them. You do not get to put them into the whitewashed, generic, oversimplified, insulting box of perfection. They are not a doll for you to set on that shelf. They are a person, just like you.
If you hear me turning this rant into hypocrisy, if you hear me breathe that lie with regard to a flesh-and-blood human being, I want you to throw my words in my face. Slap me with my own argument. This is a habit I want to see broken in everyone, myself included. It makes my stomach turn.
That is all.