do you know it? the whirlwind of butterflies in your stomach? that nervous, giggling half-smile haunting the edges of your mouth? and everyone just gives you a flash of an odd look, and you see them thinking well she's odder than usual today, but you can't help the electricity under your skin. it doesn't burn, most of the time, it just hums there with persistent warmth, not forcing you to do a thing but tugging you in that direction. that thing that paints safety and insanity as your only choices, so do you throw yourself off the cliff with the hopes there's a net or pose forever on the edge?
Storified tweets about gendered books
18 hours ago