ninjasexfarty:

Important, always-relevant comic done by the wonderful Ursa Eyer.

(Source: ninjasexspoopy)

catharsisproductions:

Will reblog always

(Source: wisekelp)

catharsisproductions:

Will reblog always

(Source: wisekelp)

catharsisproductions:

Will reblog always

(Source: wisekelp)

Women don’t speak out against catcalling because they are “sanctimonious.” They speak out against it because it’s threatening and demeaning. Catcalling is terrifying specifically because it has the potential to turn into physical violence at any moment if the woman does the “wrong” thing. Writer Soraya Chemaly has documented just a few of these many news stories.

It’s disturbing that Lewak is so desperate for random men to approve of her appearance that she’s willing to take the risk that these interactions turn sour–not only that, but she’s willing to take that risk for all of us. She writes, “Oh, don’t go rolling those sanctimonious eyes at me, young women of Vassar: I may court catcalls, but I hold my head high. Enjoying male attention doesn’t make you a traitor to your gender.”

Most people who are attracted to men enjoy some sort of male attention, but not all of us enjoy it from any man, at any time, in any place. Kind of like I love pizza, but I don’t want people to shove pizza in my face every time I leave my apartment. Actually, I would probably start to kind of hate pizza if that happened, especially if trying to refuse the pizza led to slurs and threats of violence.

(Source: kateordie)

I am starting to hate existing less.
A thought that at one point seemed unfathomable.
“I will always wish for the blood to stop coursing through my veins.”
I remember how that thought sat in my brain; how I let it eat at me.
I screamed, I yelled, I kicked.
“I will always pray to be six feet under the ground.”
I blew out the candles for my eighteenth birthday.
Why does life have to be so long?

I etched lines into my skin.
I carved mountains and rivers and valleys and dunes.
I made art where there was none.
I painted pictures of what I wanted to see, what I thought should be there.
I sculpted a person as hard as rock.
I used tools as sharp as steel.
I only knew how to destroy.
I forgot how to build.
Plastered on smiles,
Words like swords,
I feigned rays of sunshine
Whilst throwing myself in a thousand different directions.
Anything to make you want me.
Anything to make me care.

I am staring to hate existing less.
Today I am an existentialist.
Tomorrow a Buddhist.
I am both sinner and saint.
I do not know how.
Uncertainty is nothing new.
“I am whimsical,” I say to you.
As you try to strip me of my wings.
But I want nothing tying me down.
You don’t know how it is to live without gravity.
You do not understand.
You could not understand.
Self destruction is
the only way I stay alive.

There are magic stones
that make me not fear.
I am in a prison of my own security.
I am well versed in the act of nonexistence.
This I can do well.
I may not know how to live,
but I know how to die.
I need it, I crave it.
I have the world at my fingertips and I toss it to the ground.
“Not this life,” I say.
As if I can pick and choose when consciousness is worth it.

This skill is not only learned,
It is taught.
I am a byproduct of passive aggressive.
A reminder of your mistakes.
Too much, too much, too much.
“Yes, I accept your pleas,”
I say to the world.
I will make myself small.
I will shrink into nothing.

I wait for the day for the sun to rise.
I long for the day to slay my dragons with a shining blade of steel.
It does not come.
This time I am quiet.
This time I stop asking
and I wait for my soul to speak.
I am not patient,
But I don’t have the will to fight.
Tenacity only got me so far.
And it is in the silence
Where I found the strength to let it in.

As smooth as a wind,
subtle, somber.
I let it come inside of me.
It whispers.
And this time I will allow
it to be true.
It is in the silence
that I find my salvation.
I am starved and bruised and hollow
But I know I am not done.
This whisper is my battle cry.
I will wait for my voice to catch up.
I will sing it from mountain tops.
I will soon say it-
Those magic words:
“I am stating to hate existing less.”
And I will mean it.

kilipains:

a thrilling series

quantumfemme:

OH MY GOD

(Source: gradientlair)

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