I was exploring in the catacombs and found a ladder going up. I climbed it and found a square door. I pushed open the door and found myself inside a university lecture room at 3 in the morning.
And you chose to censor your face in the worst way imaginable
Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place.
why does this communicate the universal mood we women experience so perfectly
This is doubly annoying because she’s clearly in mourning; look at her clothes. those are mourning clothes. The way she clutches her handkerchief. The wetness of her eyes. She’s not a lark to the seaside, she’s traveling to or from a funeral.
And this dandy fuckboy can’t look beyond his own nose and have some fucking respect.
This is why I support artists. You can tell a story without any words at all. You don’t even need to title this piece “The Irritating Gentleman” and yet most 21st Century women will know exactly what this 19th Century woman endured on the day of that painting.
i want to be a professor and lecture nonsensically for a few hours every day and give students vague essay prompts and read them all and laugh but still pass everyone while i slip some bourbon into my metal coffee mug that doesn’t actually have coffee in it wearing a button-up and vest with no tie but nice jeans and hella expensive shoes that i bought because i have tenure and im never losing my job
