there are millions of women world wide who are denied education and reproductive health care and legislative agency on the basis of their womanhood, and yet there are still white women with the audacity to say that feminism is unnecessary because ‘they have all the rights they need’
girls are so hot???? like i see a hot girl every 2 seconds. and a hot guy about every 2 weeks. and even then i’m wary because he might end up yelling something rude at me or making a rape joke or something
“Because, between ‘reality’ on the one hand, and the point where the mind strikes reality, there’s a middle zone, a rainbow edge where beauty comes into being, where two different surfaces mingle and blur to provide what life does not: and this is the place where all art exists, and all magic.”—The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt (via angeltabletting)
“If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?”—
This line encapsulates the concept of a good kid in a bad city, and it cuts into one of the most moral questions in human existence: Can good come from evil? The best part about the line, as is true of the best poetry, is that it doesn’t answer the question it asks. For Kendrick’s immediate purposes, he’s the flower and the city is the dark room. The question is: Can you trust him?
“Before you say yes, get him angry. See him scared, see him wanting, see him sick. Stress changes a person. Find out if he drinks and if he does, get him drunk - you’ll learn more about his sober thoughts. Discover his addictions. See if he puts you in front of them. You can’t change people, baby girl. If they are made one way, it doesn’t just wear off. If you hate how he acts when he’s out of it now, you’re going to hate it much worse eight years down the road. You might love him to bits but it doesn’t change that some people just don’t fit.”—inkskinned, “My father’s recipe for the man I should marry” (via partygirlmeltdown)
Persephone as a dark and off-putting goddess who worries her mother by hanging out with satyrs and making weird stuff like pitcher plants and Venus flytraps. Hades being charmed and intimidated all at once.
“I want something else. I’m not even sure what to call it anymore except I know it feels roomy and it’s drenched in sunlight and it’s weightless and I know it’s not cheap. It’s probably not even real.”—Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves (via larmoyante)
“No nation can slave a race of people for hundreds of years, set them free bedraggled and penniless, pit them, without assistance in a hostile environment, against privileged victimizers, and then reasonably expect the gap between the heirs of the groups to narrow. Lines, begun parallel and left alone, can never touch.”—Randall Robinson (via marloweandthemuse)
“The Myth of Bootstraps goes something like this: I never got any help from anyone. I achieved my American Dream all on my own, through hard work. I got an education, I saved my money, I worked hard, I took risks, and I never complained or blamed anyone else when I failed, and every time I fell, I picked myself up by my bootstraps and just worked even harder. No one helped me.
This is almost always a lie.
There are vanishingly few people who have never had help from anyone—who never had family members who helped them, or friends, or colleagues, or teachers.
Who never benefited from government programs that made sure they had electricity, or mail, or passable roads, or clean drinking water, or food, or shelter, or healthcare, or a loan.
Who never had any kind of privilege from which they benefited, even if they didn’t actively try to trade on it.
Who never had an opportunity they saw as luck which was really someone, somewhere, making a decision that benefited them.
Who never had friends to help them move, so they didn’t have to pay for movers. Who never inherited a couch, so they didn’t have to pay for a couch. Who never got hand-me-down clothes from a cousin, so their parents could afford piano lessons. Who never had shoes that fit and weren’t leaky, when the kid down the street didn’t.