On a crisp day during my first year at the university, I was older. I stuck my tongue out and caught a snowflake. And then my eyes poured out salt, the bitterest of rainfalls, as I mourned the death of all the tiny snowpeople who had called that crystal their home. I have never been to a funeral, save the one which took place in those brief few moments beneath a snowy nightsky, in a city with a university, in a life that had not yet begun, where I wept for all the snowpeople I had carelessly eaten.
— this is a weird fragment from a future part of my monstrous creation that i feel so tender towards, but am sort of sadly aware that i may need to cut (via thoughtsfromsomewhere)
Women are not really geeks. Women are not really indie fans. Women are not really into any subculture. Women are not really people. We are squids. Please help us back into the ocean.