*drinks vodka* *gags* “ugh I hate vodka” *drinks vodka*
i want a word for the almost-home.
that point where the highway’s monotony becomes familiar
that subway stop whose name will always wake you from day’s-end dozing
that first glimpse of the skyline
that you never loved until you left it behind.
what do you call the exit sign you see even in your dreams?
is there a name for the airport terminal you come back to,
i need a word for rounding your corner onto your street,
for seeing your city on the horizon,
for flying homewards down your highway.
give me a word for the boundary
between the world you went to see
and the small one you call your own.
i want a word for the moment you know
you’re almost home.
apparently some guy named mark was trying to tell my mom he needed to speak with my dad about any financial transactions my mom was making because he was the man of the house and she did not take kindly to his implying that my dad was the primary breadwinner/person in charge in our family so
Heading back to Stillwater tomorrow. I never thought I could be so excited for a summer to end. Thanks again, Southlake. See ya soon.
“The gendered entitlement of criminals – rapists, domestic abusers, murderers – is almost always universally condemned as unacceptable throughout polite society (at least in 2014), as is the era of dowries and legal spousal rape, when women were considered the literal property of the men in their lives. But those men whose actions exhibit in softer – sometimes even socially acceptable – ways their belief that women should pay them deference (or at least quietly tolerate their varied hostilities) face much less opprobrium.
This is how men get away with bludgeoning the joy that is friendship into the unrecognizable “friendzone” – a place where it’s actually humiliating to be friends with a woman. ”
- Men aren’t entitled to women’s time or affection. But it’s a hard lesson to learn, by Cord Jefferson