Regina Cannot Explain It All

I'm Regina Small. I'm a writer and editor in NYC. Interests include: sci-fi/fantasy, summertime daydrinking, trying to be a better person, fancy manicures, cooking, absurd humor, philosophy and the role of irony in the modern world.

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Drinks with @natkid for @legs_benedict’s farewell. 😭😭😭 (at Bar Chord)

Perfect t-shirt is perfect.

When they don’t love you the way you want to, you mourn that for however long you need to. But then you get back up and you remember yourself. You are not a reflection of the people who can’t love you. You will love again. You will be loved again.


This is an interesting interview but this is was definitely the best part:

At one point during this horrible winter I was talking to a friend who was trying to decide whether she should stay here or go to California and I was like, “You know what? If you’re not FROM HERE there’s no reason you have to stay here.” Like, for me, I don’t think there is any other choice, if I’m being realistic. What am I gonna do in America, say “hi” to my neighbors? Drive around with a smile on my face and wait for the good movies to come to me three months after they get released? Go eat at Chili’s? Let someone finish their sentence? I’m stuck.

Ty, Balk.



Yes, good.

holy shit this has 12.5k notes, i guess i’m now vaguely internet-famous


  • 14 years old: I'm young but I know what I want. This isn't that hard, I'm all grown up already and have everything figured out.
  • 17 years old: Well, this is a little harder than I thought. School is almost ending. What am I going to do with my life?
  • 21 years old: What the fuck is going on? Where are my socks?
  • 33 years old: *sips coffee* One wrong move and this could all go down in flames. Jesus Christ.

With Angus and Rupert by her side, Claire ponders how best to distract these not-so-bright gentlemen. A solution presents itself quite conveniently in the form of a voluptuous lass eyeing up one (or both?) of the men. They have a brief argument about who’s more deserving of sexing this lady. Apparently the ménage a trois had not made its way to Scotland by 1743, a bit of valuable trivia for us in case we ever fall through time.

I’ve been recapping Outlander for work, so if that interests you, here you go.

Yes, good.

Only here’s what I really, really want someone to explain to me. What if one happens to be possessed of a heart that can’t be trusted—? What if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons, leads one willfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from health, domesticity, civic responsibility and strong social connections and all the blandly-held common virtues and instead straight toward a beautiful flare of ruin, self-immolation, disaster?…If your deepest self is singing and coaxing you straight toward the bonfire, is it better to turn away? Stop your ears with wax? Ignore all the perverse glory your heart is screaming at you? Set yourself on the course that will lead you dutifully towards the norm, reasonable hours and regular medical check-ups, stable relationships and steady career advancement at the New York Times and brunch on Sunday, all with the promise of being somehow a better person? Or…is it better to throw yourself head first and laughing into the holy rage calling your name?

The Goldfinch (via natface)

I think about this quote and this idea every day.

(via natface)

(via natface)