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onlyblackgirl:

peopleofthediaspora:

crushthecistem:

redlipsmwauh:

peopleofthediaspora:

Black moms are creative.

Yasss black hairstyles

All these hair styles are amazing, but presuming the mothers did them all enforces harmful domestic gender roles and stereotypes

*rolls eyes*.
Black moms are the best! My statement still stands. Let us live.

Seriously? 

Appropriate reaction when people demand respect from you. 

White privilege

ethiopianbutamerican:

Forty-six million white adults today can trace the origins of their family wealth to the Homestead Act of 1862. This bill gave away valuable acres of land for free to white families, but expressly precluded participation by Blacks.

dion-thesocialist:

Welcome to my twisted mind. Behold this picture of a white woman smoking. Lay witness to some pastel flowers. So fucking twisted.

In case no one remembers. Kanye West “designed” and released a shirt very similar to this, but only in white. And it sold for $120, also it immediately sold out upon its release. 

In case no one remembers. Kanye West “designed” and released a shirt very similar to this, but only in white. And it sold for $120, also it immediately sold out upon its release. 

White People in July VS White People in October

bruj0sdelayer:

image

image

meme4u:

exactly what i dream about

And both are stupid

meme4u:

exactly what i dream about

And both are stupid

Anonymous
Also your a piece of shit for talking about giving your children almond milk instead of breast milk. THEY NEED THAT. I don't care if you don't give them formula, but don't fucking neglect them and their growing bones so that they can perpetuate some FUCKING delusion that you have. You're not a fucking squirrel, you may identify as one, but to neglect your children because you've got some insane fucking delusion that you're a squirrel is the stupidest thing I've ever heard.

squirrrelygirly:

they don’t need breast milk. the consumption of breast milk limits women because it makes us tired and it also objectifies us. hungry? just use mom! i have my own priorities in life and i don’t need to be on call for some child to eat from 24/7. almond milk is vegan, gluten-free, and has a lot of protein and calcium. it’s way better than normal milk and i’m not just going to tell you that, i will prove it to you when i raise my children off of it.

They’ve both reached level 10 tumblr user. 

I honestly don’t expect anyone to read even one fourth of that. 

I have this recording on my old phone. And it’s of me signing and playing Hallelujah in a room that my friend build in his garage. And It had almost a natural reverb because of how well sound bounced off everything. It was right after a break up I had, if you could even call it a break up. I wasn’t much of a relationship to begin with if I’m honest, but anyways. I was just so sad. Not because of the breakup, but because of my friend. The most prominent and important human relationship, interaction, whatever, that I’ve ever developed. That one person that not only could you tell everything to, but you just happen to. And not because you feel like you have to, because it runs deeper than that. It’s a you know you don’t have to, and you’d feel comfortable with not saying something, but you just end up doing it. And she wasn’t talking to me, because she felt uncomfortable. She didn’t know how to help. But I wasn’t sad because of the break up, I was sad because my best friend wasn’t talking to me. i had been cheated on, and although I wasn’t upset over the break up, just the concept, the thought that someone saying they’ll stay true to you and one day just “oh hey this happened a couple of times”, and she blamed me and was mad at me. So it was just strange. It wasn’t like “Oh someone took your property” which I already know some random moron will interpret it that way since I’m a guy, so by the way that’s not the case. It was the whole being lied to thing. 

So it was like two maybe three in the morning, I couldn’t sleep. It had been days since I slept well. I was just so sad, and I felt alone, and I was tired, and I wanted to cry but I couldn’t. Nothing would come out. Which is so much worse. Because then you’re just stuck with these feelings, they’re just chained to you. There’s no relief. They just linger. I felt like I just needed somebody. Like I needed anybody. Any person would do. They didn’t even have to be like my crutch or anything, or say anything. Just having someone next to me mutually existing would’ve been enough. Enough to remind me that in this seemingly infinite universe that I’m not just a particle floating on a grain of sand. That I wasn’t alone. So I pulled out my phone, and I decided to just play something, anything, and that I”d record it and listen to it. And my vocals were so bad. I was dehydrated, I had been smoking that day, all I ate was like a big bag of chips, I was tired. And I just so happened to start playing that song. I wasn’t even really playing after a while, it just progressed to me beating the shit out of my guitar and trying to break all the strings at once. 

And at one point I just kept repeating “Hallelujah” 

And I started screaming it, but not like trying to be as loud as possible, or trying to sound like one of those shitty bands that sound the same and 16 year olds love. But like actually screaming, like you could hear my vocal cords shredding, can’t talk for hours after I’m done, emotions just getting out, that kind of screaming. 

And after I was done, I was just there. In that room. And the world was back again. And I was so exhausted, I stopped recording. And I just sat there, contemplating whether I should listen to it or just delete it. And I listened to it, and right at the part where I started screaming I started to get the rush again, i could feel my emotions as I heard those sound waves. And I just loved it. The recording was so bad, in quality, the tempo was all over the place, it kept skipping, after a while I wasn’t even playing I was just beating the chords out, but I loved the screaming. It was so genuine, and just came out of what i was feeling. And I was so happy because I liked it. And I woke up my friend, and showed it to him and he was like “You’re not screaming right, that sounds like you’re tearing your voice apart” and I told him that was the point, that’s how felt, that’s what I was doing. 

It was one of those days where I feel that if I was religious, that I’d be typing about how I felt God or something like that. But instead it just reminded me of what I’m capable of feeling, it reminded me of all these themes that human life carries. How simple it is and how complex it is. Paradoxical human life and the virtues and curses of consciousness. How real emotions are, and how they just aren’t some electrical impulses or chemicals. It was the opposite of a spiritual experience. It was a reminder of how small it is to be human, and how gigantic it is to experience humanity. 

grave-at-trenzalore:

followingthedeer:

sainthannah:

heatherbat:

stunningpicture:

‘Cause people seem to only post the 20-something Audrey Hepburn.

Audrey Hepburn was the granddaughter of a baron, the daughter of a nazi sympathizer, spent her teens doing ballet to secretly raise money for the dutch resistance against the nazis, and spent her post-film career as a goodwill ambassador of UNICEF, winning the presidential medal of freedom for her efforts.
…and history remembers her as pretty.

AND HISTORY REMEMBERS HER AS PRETTY

note

this is the first time I have ever seen a picture of her older than 20 and I think that’s scary


If you eat only what people feed you, you will starve. The same goes for your mind. You have internet access. You obviously didn’t have the desire, you are to blame. Not how history remembers her. How about instead of saying “well they define….” you start forming your own opinions of things. Defining things on your own.

grave-at-trenzalore:

followingthedeer:

sainthannah:

heatherbat:

stunningpicture:

‘Cause people seem to only post the 20-something Audrey Hepburn.

Audrey Hepburn was the granddaughter of a baron, the daughter of a nazi sympathizer, spent her teens doing ballet to secretly raise money for the dutch resistance against the nazis, and spent her post-film career as a goodwill ambassador of UNICEF, winning the presidential medal of freedom for her efforts.

…and history remembers her as pretty.

AND HISTORY REMEMBERS HER AS PRETTY

note

this is the first time I have ever seen a picture of her older than 20 and I think that’s scary

If you eat only what people feed you, you will starve. The same goes for your mind. You have internet access. You obviously didn’t have the desire, you are to blame. Not how history remembers her. How about instead of saying “well they define….” you start forming your own opinions of things. Defining things on your own.

Sometimes I just want to drink myself stupid and call someone. Just to prove that I’m still human.