Dance with me, darling

Just a little personal blog to keep my ramblings confined. Sometimes, throwing things out into the vast anonymity of the internet is the only cathartic release we can get.

Sherlockians, we need your help!

raehimura:

As you are obviously aware, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is one of the most influential writers in modern western history. He created Sherlock Holmes, who is arguably the best known and most well-loved fictional character of all time (maybe just behind Mickey Mouse).

Well, one of the last pieces of Doyle’s historical legacy — his last intact home, Undershaw — is in danger. Though it has lapsed into disrepair and remained empty for some time, this estate could easily be repaired and turned into a museum that would function as a testament to all that Doyle accomplished. Instead, the Waverley Borough Council has decided to allow the home to be divided into four posh flat, essentially destroying the historical value of the space.

Undershaw should be preserved. It should be a monument to the Doyle legacy, and a place where all of his devoted fans can go to walk in his space a while, to commune with the creative urges that motivated him. Many famous authors’ homes have been preserved, and Doyle certainly stands alongside Edgar Allen Poe and Ernest Hemmingway in literary greatness.

If you need more convincing, check out this editorial explaining the importance of Undershaw. There’s also this more in-depth explanation.

If you’re already convinced, start by reblogging this post. Then, you can sign the petition here, like the Facebook page here and follow the movement’s blog here. After that, check out The Save Undershaw Preservation Trust to find more information and more ways to help.

Fans of Sherlock Holmes have always been dedicated and passionate, and the newest incarnations of this timeless story have brought in new fans with an abundance of new energy. Please, turn some of that energy toward saving this priceless piece of literary history. This is Doyle’s last home, so this is our last chance to save a piece of his legacy.

I believe in Sherlock Holmes. Do you?

lifept2:

Part of me is still hoping…
Someday…
This will all be a part of our, “remember when”…
Someday…

lifept2:

Part of me is still hoping…

Someday…

This will all be a part of our, “remember when”…

Someday…

I like how you mispronounce words sometimes, how you fumble and stammer and stutter looking for the right ones to say and the right ways to say them. I appreciate that you find language challenging, because it is, because everything manmade is challenging. Including man, including you.

When you sleep on your side, I like to map the constellations between your beauty marks freckles pimples, the minuscule mountains that sprinkle your back. I like the tufts of hair you forgot to shave and the way you smell when you haven’t showered in a while; I like the sleep left in your eyes.

I like the way your skin dies in the middle of the night, how you die from embarrassment the next morning; how you writhe in the snake casing you’ve left behind. I like that you think pillow snowflakes carry more weight than pillow talk; that you think my opinion of you is so fickle that it could change overnight. (It’s not.)

I enjoy seeing you insecure, vulnerable. I like to watch red steam light up your cheeks, a spreading mist of shame when you think you’ve done something unacceptable like missing a step on the stairs or not having the perfect answer to something I’ve said. It’s like you honestly don’t know how wonderful you are, it’s like you have no idea.

The burns, the scars, the black and blues on your face body heart, I want to know their stories. I want to know what hurt you, who hurt you, how bad the damage is. I like your hard, ugly toenails and the layer of fat that lines your belly, the soft parts you try to hide. It’s okay to be soft, sometimes.

I appreciate your ability to get inappropriately angry as much as I appreciate your willingness to apologize afterward. I like how your passion manifests unpredictably and uncontrollably, how your feelings cannot be caged or concealed, how you’re incapable of apathy.

I like how you can’t dance, how you have pedestrian taste in music, how the worst song on every album is your favorite. I like how enthusiastic you are when you hear it, it’s like you don’t know how terrible it is, it’s like maybe how you’re able to love someone like me. (Perhaps that’s your biggest flaw, perhaps that’s the one I love most.)

Your flaws single you out, set you apart, make you different from the rest, and thank god. I don’t just…accept your blemishes, I like them. I like them because they make you human, and humans are easier to love than photographs and illusions and ideals; humans fit more easily between arms and between legs; humans are welcome to their imperfections because if there’s one thing humans can do perfectly, it’s love. Humans can love, they can do it flawlessly.

—Stephanie Georgopulous (via snottface)

(Source: thoughtcatalog.com, via snottface)

Sometimes I wish I had never met you …

Because then I could go to sleep at night not knowing there was someone like you out there. But then there are times when I realize that if I had never met you, I would not have become the person I am. I would not have come as far as I have. I may sometimes wish I had never met you, but other times, I am so glad I did. You have made me a better person. You have made me who I am today. And I’d rather know that it’s possible for someone like you to exist, even if it means always wanting what I can’t have.

This Coming Out Day

We’re both standing strong for equality, living out and proud. I came out the whole campus today. And it’s still not enough.

I’m standing strong, but I just want to be standing at your side.

The worst way to love someone is to sit next to them, knowing they don’t love you back.

—For him (via cmc439)