Tumblr Holidays:

vampire who’s married to an archaeologist voice: my love, stop trying to carbon date me

The best boy

"A beautiful life is not stumbled upon, it is built. It is chosen. It is nurtured over the years. A beautiful life is made from the heart, not the head. It is not one we can rationalize our way into, it’s one that must be felt. A beautiful life is not one that is immediately comfortable, but one grown through the acknowledgement of what is worth being uncomfortable for. It is not one that is easy, it is one that is worth it. 

A beautiful life is composed of the things our 90-year-old selves would have wished we’d done with the years in which we were so young but didn’t realize, before the decades piled up and passed us by and we came to find how little time even the luckiest among us have. It is made of all the little whispered prayers they’d have for us as they looked back, the same way we imagine our younger selves now and wish we could impart and instill so much guidance, so often leaning in the direction of — go where your heart already calls you, move toward the truth you already know.


A beautiful life is made with someone who not only makes you fall in love with them, but makes you fall in love with the person you become because of them. The kind of human being they push and inspire you to be. The kind of person who loves you as you are while still holding space for your growth. The kind who would carry you down the steps if you could not walk anymore, who would hold your hand until the last minute of the last hour, with whom you could have nothing, but it would still feel like everything. 

Happiness is not how your life appears, it is the quality of your connection to it. How deeply and intimately those bonds run. How much you truly cared about what you were doing and the people around you and the memories you made and how bravely you put your heart into your days, rather than hiding yourself away and wondering if you could make things appear full on the surface, while it all sits empty just beneath."

Brianna Weist - THE PIVOT YEAR

Shop Catalog

The Pivot Year

This is the year you change your life. There's a saying that when the moment comes, you don't need words on a page, you need new thoughts i

Being in a group chat with a bunch of mentally ill girls who suck at taking care of ourselves is really funny. We’ll constantly be giving each other advice like “hey you should probably eat something” “have you taken your meds today?” “if you’re not feeling well maybe you should get some sleep” and stuff like that and then none of us have the self awareness and self respect to take the advice we give each other until we we hear it from someone else

What she says: im fine

What she means: the average age of conception over the past 250k years is apparently 26.9. Let's round it down to 25. Think of your birth mother. Hold her hand. Imagine her holding hands with her mother. Within 4 people, you're back in time 100 years, and it's an intimate family dinner. Just after WWI. Add another 16 people, a small party of 20, and you're in the 1500s. Double it, twice, and you're at 80 people. Your family would fill a restaurant, and you're at the height of the Roman empire. At 100 people, Confucius is alive but Socrates has not yet been born. 100 people. That's a medium sized wedding. A small lecture theatre or concert. 200 people, probably the biggest party i could ever hope to host, takes you back 5000 years. The guests at your soirée of parents would be contemporaries of the Egyptian and Indus Valley civilisations, although you'd probably be too busy fixing drinks and nibbles to talk to all of them. Just imagine it. 200 of you. That's all it takes to get back 5,000 years. And we could go further. 1000 people, a decent sized concert, a large high school, and we're at the end of the last ice age. Your ancestors are comparing their pink floyd vinyl with music played on instruments carved from wood or bones of long vanished species. Wander through the crowd. See your own features and phrases and gestures refract out like a kaleidoscope. What would they make of you? What do you make of them? Why does it feel so unfair that even that first 100 years --that small family dinner of four--is out of your grasp? Maybe it's because questions of spatial distance have become negligible to us now. why, oh why, does time hold out against us so stubbornly

And if you’re lucky… it gives us another chance.”