I'm Kat. I'm 21, a proud MoHo, international relations major, from TX, currently studying in Edinburgh. I have an immense love for the BBC and I combat insanity through singing, dance and books. I've recently taken up archery and it's beginning to take over my life.


Emotions, in my experience, aren’t covered by single words. I don’t believe in “sadness,” “joy,” or “regret.” Maybe the best proof that the language is patriarchal is that it oversimplifies feelings.

I’d like to have at my disposal complicated hybrid emotions, Germanic train-car constructions like, say, “the happiness that attends disaster.” Or: “the disappointment of sleeping with one’s fantasy.” I’d like to show how “intimations of morality brought on by aging family members” connects with “the hatred of mirrors that begins in middle age.” I’d like to have a word for “the sadness inspired by failing restaurants” as well as for “the excitement of getting a room with a minibar.”

Jeffrey Eugenides, ‘Middlesex’ (via nathanielfick)

(Source: prewars)

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Oh my love
If I could just
Find you tonight
If I could just find you tonight
Oh my love