Anonymous asked:
are you worried
More you might like
Concept: I finish school. The job I work isn’t my dream job but I enjoy doing it greatly still. It pays enough to cover everything I might need. My bills are never overdue. Money is not a thought in my head. I have a place to live. So do my dogs. It is nice and warm, I have some plants, my bookshelves are full, my sheets are always clean. There is time to read at the end of a day. I read a lot. Thinking is a good thing. I meet up with friends regularly, old and new. They love me. We make memories. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I travel a few times a year, always different places. The places I see steal my breath away. The people I meet teach me of life. They are good. There is no war. The sea calls to me and pay visit. I am independent. I am content.
we are such a sad generation. the dream is a modest and decent life.
And still, it feels unattainable.
You know? I actually prefer to think of it as regaining sanity after all the delusions of grandeur older generations had. There is absolutely nothing wrong with a normal, decent life with just enough, and tbh it’s their fault we think there IS something wrong with it.
Yeah but like do you remember being young and dreaming of being an astronaut or a lawyer or a doctor or an inventor? When your dreams were to make an impact? To be remembered? When you wanted to be a rock star or a dancer or a zookeeper?
I spend my days dreaming of a stable home for myself and my family where we don’t have to worry about where groceries are going to come from and I spend my nights imagining terrible ways I could lose what little stability I have.
We were supposed to do better than our parents. Instead we’re inheriting the same shit world their parents were born into.
Physically, I may be here. But mentally I am in a small coastal village in New England, it's late afternoon in autumn and I am wearing a flannel and drinking apple cider. I'm sitting on my back porch, surrounded by trees, and the only sound is the faint sound of the waves crashing onto the shore in the distance.
men be like: oh no,, my ego, my poor ego! oh woman, could you spare a stroke? stroke my ego just once? oh, you refuse? that’s fine, i don’t mind. i diagnose you with whore
A thing I really like about the cottagecore/farmcore/grandmacore community, is the way simple things are romanticized. It’s a break from a culture centered around consuming, and inspires slow living and appreciation for your natural surroundings and simple joys.
To find meaning and happines in tending to your tomatoes, making jam from your grandmother’s recipe, or taking a nap in the sun is such a beautiful thing to me. There is such a feeling of luxury to be able to share a homemade cake with the people you care about, or to be able to give away some of your carrots to your neighbour, it really makes a little feel like a lot!
Major cities and towns in North America replaced by major cities across the Atlantic by latitude.