“IT’S NOT BRUNCH IF IT HAPPENS BEFORE NOON, YOU ASSHOLES. you’re not eating brunch at 930 in the morning, boo. you are straight up having BREAKFAST. don’t be cute, just because you’re still drunk and there’s eggs on the table that doesn’t mean you’re eating brunch. i know you want an excuse to put vodka in your oj before the sun is even all the way up, and that excuse is just going to have to be “alcoholism” unless you wait until at least eleven-fucking-thirty.”—
I've got this detached, almost spectator-like feeling this week.
This week has been a strange week of adulting - weddings and baby showers,
anxiety and subsequent relief, of handling things without getting overly
emotional, of showing up because it’s important, of being reminded that
being single is not the same as being alone, of being nice to a stranger
and then almost being in the middle of fight on the subway.
“While Native American tribes want to preserve items sacred to their culture, museums in Europe take a more “colonial” attitude, Mr. Colwell-Chanthaphonh added. “They [THE WHITE EUROPEANS] think it’s their job to preserve culture.””—
"I am going to preserve your culture by suffocating it to death, I will make sure the dead version lives forever in a place where people can walk by it reverently, while killing the very culture that actually exists."