No writing is wasted. Did you know that sourdough from San Francisco is leavened partly by a bacteria called lactobacillus sanfrancisensis? It is native to the soil there, and does not do well elsewhere. But any kitchen can become an ecosystem. If you bake a lot, your kitchen will become a happy home to wild yeasts, and all your bread will taste better. Even a failed loaf is not wasted. Likewise, cheese makers wash the dairy floor with whey. Tomato gardeners compost with rotten tomatoes. No writing is wasted: the words you can’t put in your book can wash the floor, live in the soil, lurk around in the air. They will make the next words better.
Erin Bow (via writersrelief)
what if you were in bed tonight and you were really lonely and sad and you were lying with your arm hanging out over the edge of the bed into the darkness and just as you were going to sleep, the darkness reached out and held your hand
i made a thing
This is beautiful.
I love this. The darkness is usually portrayed as something sinister but I think it’s beautiful.
If you’ve ever sat next to someone on a plane who used your every move as an invitation to talk to you, congratulations: you now know what it’s like to be a woman.
— (via wilwheaton)
Do you Bite your thumb at me, sir? Do you wish to quarrel, sir?-
WAIT WAIT SHIT I DIDNT MEAN-
NO SHIT NO I DONT WANT TO QUARREL NEVER FUCKING MIND. SHIT.