Adam > Recent Status Updates

i'm sure she would be so pissed to hear this, but gretchen felker-martin should just write dark romance or erotica

There is no room of one's own when men think our bodies belong to them.

My papi always said I had a strange charm. Like Anne Boleyn, who some historians suggest was attractive despite being ugly.

I find being an American pretty darn embarrassing, especially now we're the ones on the wrong side of a global war.

She presses her lips together, calls me by my name for the first time. "Asher? My feet hurt."
I say, "Yes."
And we both begin to cry.

Marta said that at times like this--only at times like this--you need a man in the house, and María, who was standing on a chair with her skirts pulled up around her waist, started to laugh like a person possessed, and said no, that she preferred cockroaches, all the cockroaches in the world, over a man in the house.

"Order of the Eternal Flame" instead of Order of the Phoenix is so fucking funny

some of the most unlikely people in the world turn out to be homosexual; it's not at all that unusual

We like our lives and our possessions to run smoothly. Chaos, violence, disorder, mindlessness all upset us. They do not frighten us, precisely, because we are aware of them. We watch the news, we are active in our own brand of rather liberal politics. We know we have built a shell for ourselves, but we have worked hard for the means to do it; we have chosen it. Surely we have the right to do that.

this is self insert Dead Poet's Society/The Secret History fanfic and you CANNOT convince me otherwise

the author appears to be allergic to world building or giving the reader even a CRUMB of a description about the overall physical environment

for a "gothic", there's a startling absence of atmosphere...

OH MY GOD THE NARRATOR OF THE AUDIO PLAYS THE MC IN THE BARBARIAN

I miss Gus more than I've ever missed anyone. Strange, that.... Is this what it's like to have a brother? Or a best friend? It's confusing. I don't quite know what I mean.



my darling, there's a word for what you're feeling and it's called ~yearning~

The wounded human is a wounded alien lifeform.

GIRL IT HAS TAKEN YOU THIS LONG TO SIDE WITH THE PEASANTS?! YOU SHOULD BE EATEN

the structure of this story is infuriating; girl runs around with boy she hates (and constantly has to remind the reader why she's still with him, presumably to set up a ham-fisted scene later on where the two are conveniently together), comes upon a scene of violence, is shocked, runs around with boy she hates~

comment about how her dress doesn't have pockets - boooooo

girl you're wearing a slip dress, what good would a pocket be with that material? get real

LADY DANGER IS FAMOUSLY AN ORANGE RED, IT IS NOT BLUE-TONED ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME DO YOU UNDERSTAND COLOR THEORY - YOU WERE THINKING OF RUBY WOO, WEREN'T YOU MONA, DON'T LIE TO ME

And yet they had no name for their emotional attachment. It wasn't love. Not calling it love saved them from resentment. And without resentment, they were free. Free today, free tomorrow. Free next year. Until the day they died.

The idea that walking away is childish and unproductive is predicated on the inability to imagine anything but a walking away from, never a walking away toward—never that there might exist another destination. The walking away is not nihilism, it’s not cynicism, it’s not doing nothing—it’s a form of engagement more honest, more soul-affirming, than anything the system was ever prepared to offer.

How many would want to believe, as so much of the culture here as always strained to believe, that they side with the underdog? The downtrodden who refuses to give up? The rebel in face of empire? ...how many, knowing the limitations of the stories we tell ourselves, would just as instinctively retreat into the comforting fold of empire?

As it tore open packages, affixing various cables and screens to itself, Fabien tried explaining the contradiction of a self-professed communist supporting a multibillion-dollar company like Amazon.

"We all live in paradoxes," the Communist Computer Rap God said.

olive is my baby girl 😭

I have come to think that the meaning of life is to never give up - no matter if it is too late to prevent catastrophe; no matter how many disasters pile up; no matter how overwhelmingly powerful the enemy. And there is no force in the world today that embodies this meaning like the Palestinian resistance.

the way i would go to war for this old bitty

I'm sorry about everything. I know you are, too.

I know I said I didn't need a family to become who I was supposed to be, but it turned out that I did. And it was you.

We'll meet again,

E

"So what's your name?" the young man asked, in a tone that made sure Quentin knew that he had no interest in the answer.
"Quentin."
"Charming. From?"
"Brooklyn."
"How old?"
"Seventeen."
"I'm Eliot. Don't tell me anything else, I don't want to know. Don't want to get attached."

this entire time i've gotten such intense "heavenly creatures" vibes from this story and now we have a direct reference

FUCK. OFF. BRODY.