D, 23, I like short skirts, dark beer, conjugating verbs, dc, the first cup of coffee in the morning, analyzing French literature, and bad puns.
Sometimes, when I need answers, I like to take my questions to Google.
I have googled “How long does heartbreak last?” The result more popular than that was “How long does heartburn last?” This implies people suffer from heartburn more than they do heartbreak, which is a good thing, because heartbreak sucks way more than acid reflux ever could. Weirdly, though, a broken heart does physically hurt. It feels heavy, like someone is sitting on your chest.
There are upsides to despair. You can wear a blanket instead of a coat and your friends won’t judge you. You can smoke indoors because nobody will have the heart to tell an inconsolable girl that a smoking ban has been in place for eight years. And you find out that people are very nice and that they care about you, even if the person you care about most doesn’t.
The problem with heartbreak is that nobody can help you. Not the films you watch alone, searching for a character who feels the way you do, not the glasses or bottles of whisky you keep by your bed, and certainly not Instagram. Every time you post a picture of yourself on Instagram looking fake happy, a fairy dies.
Also, scrolling through photos of girls your ex may or may not be shagging won’t help you. Remind yourself that the right filter can be fantastically flattering, and she probably doesn’t look that good in real life.
It (Alexa Chung)
I’m not a misandrist, but a few quick questions:
If men can’t even make their own sandwiches, why are they allowed to make bills in congress?
If men can’t control their own sexual urges, why are they allowed to control nations?
If a woman’s legs/shoulders are enough to distract a man, how can we trust them to stay focused on things like open heart surgery or judging a murder trial?
Again not a misandrist, some of my best friends are guys and i’m even dating one.
Margaret Atwood, In Other Worlds (via feellng)