“I’m good at loving books. I’m good at loving soft bed sheets. I’m good at loving coffees and teas. I am good at loving things that can’t love me back, that don’t have the power to leave. And maybe, that’s why I love them.”—B.C. (via jailor)
“Look at the difference: In 1977 I bought a small house in Portland Oregon for $24,000. At the time I was earning $5 per hour working at a large auto parts store. I owned a 4 year old Chevy Nova that cost $1,500. Now, 36 years later that same job pays $8 an hour, that same house costs $185,000 and a 4 year old Chevy costs $10,000. Wages haven’t kept up with expenses at all. And, I should point out that that $5 an hour job in 1977 was union and included heath benefits.”—
an anonymous online commenter on the current economy. (via han-nara)
Over Thanksgiving, my grandmother was telling me how she had to find a new job because the hamburger stand she worked at in the 1930s only paid her $8 an hour and it wasn’t enough. Eighty years later, I make $8.25/hour now, and I’m supposed to be happy about it. Try and tell me minimum wage isn’t a scam.
you know what, forget it. forget all of it. i’m just gonna go get a midsection chair in a third or fourth rate orchestra, go to library school and get an okay job, and find a guy who can actually stomach to say that he loves me.
just have to accept that some things really are impossible.