Fall in love with someone whoâs comfortable with your silence. Find someone who doesnât need your words to know itâs time to kiss you.
Clairabelle Ann (via blackshivers)
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@thelilacparadox
Fall in love with someone whoâs comfortable with your silence. Find someone who doesnât need your words to know itâs time to kiss you.
Clairabelle Ann (via blackshivers)

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Lindsey Wixson by Gia Coppola for SSAW SS 2015
imagine having money wow i just got chills
Helen Frankenthaler:
1993 Radius woodcut
1994 Untitled acrylic
1998 Tales of Genji I woodcut
2000 Grey Fireworks silkscreen
source

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The Morning After I Killed Myself
The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.
I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.
The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed.
The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine.
The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighborsâ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few daylilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her her daily medication.
The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother.
The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach.
The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldnât finish what I started.
I needed this tonight
If youâre looking for a sign not to then this is it. My inbox is open if you think talking to a stranger will help.
This is devastating and precious. Wow.
If anyone needs this, here you go. Just remember that somebody, somewhere always cares about you.
Asserting⌠by Daniel Parent
Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place.
Kurt Vonnegut (via disbar)

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people who think lesbians are more accepted in society than gay men are idiotsÂ
lesbians are more sexualized. theyâre seen as a hot thing for straight men to watch but only if both girls are conventionally attractive. otherwise, itâs seen as disgusting or unnatural. that is not acceptance. that is fetishization.Â
gay guy: *murders 30 people*
white girl: omg you're SO sassy I love it!!
I was asking myself just now why they have â16 and pregnantâ but not â16 and impregnated a girlâ but I realized it would be pretty boring to watch a 16 year old boy play video games and go to school and live life as normal
Whoop there it is
đthank you planned parenthood, you are helping so many people. đ
Today the Senate is voting to defund Planned Parenthood. Let them know that you stand with us>>Â
Use #StandWithPP in your posts.

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I Hate Children
Maybe I should clarify:
I hate the culture of children.
Itâs not really children, per se.  Granted, Iâm not fond of them being around, I donât want one in my house or very often in my immediate presence, and I especially donât like it if I have to watch one that canât even talk coherently let alone understand what Iâm saying, but all this is because I have no patience and no strong maternal instincts to speak of.
If Iâm out in public somewhere and a child looks at me, I will smile at it. Â If I see a video or gif of a child doing something adorable, I might coo and share it. Â I donât actively go out of my way to upset children or even discuss them with most people.
But I hate with all my being the culture that surrounds the concept of children.
Thereâs an overwhelming societal expectation of a beuterused person that they must not only have children (usually multiple), but that they must desperately want children, often to the exclusion of all else.  Itâs tied very much into the notion that everyone is supposed to get married and promptly produce offspring and put themselves neatly into heteronormative traditional gender roles so as to be a good adult and a âproductive member of society.â  Indeed, the mere presents of breasts and a presumed uterus is indicative that a personâs worth is whether or not they reproduce.
And itâs this idea that infests every conversation about health or future or family. Â Itâs this concept that makes those of us who do not want children (especially biologically) have to constantly brace ourselves for potential arguments when we talk about any of these things.
Itâs the reason I had to switch doctors when my first one kept insisting that âthe idealâ was for me to âremain a virgin until marriage and then marry a virgin before having children.â  Itâs the reason people with vaginas require checkups for âreproductive healthâ to make sure everything is âfunctioning correctly for reproductionâ instead of just to make sure things donât hurt/arenât infected/need attention.  Itâs the reason we see language used like âbaby-makingâ for het sex with no stated reproductive intent, why the term âbiological clockâ is still exclusively used in regards to reproduction, and why there is an over-emphasis on pregnancy and reproduction language in sex (âbaby goo,â âbaby batter,â âgonna make a baby in you,â etc.).  Itâs why thereâs still so much debate over who gets a say in pregnancy, why pregnancy is still terrifyingly often referred to as a punishment or as a means to control the beuterused.  Itâs the reason why family, friends, and even strangers feel completely within their rights to ask you about your reproductive plans, to make you justify all of your life choices to them at a momentâs notice, to question your thoughts and beliefs as if they know you better than you do yourself.
Itâs the reason why the questions are so intensive when someone asks for lasting birth control.  Itâs the reasons why we are told over and over the rate of regret, the success stories of people who changed their minds, the horror stories of those who didnât.  Itâs the reason why, when you state that you have a âphobia of pregnancyâ in the hope that it will make people stop asking you without making you explain yourself or justify your feelings for the umpteenth time, the only advice you get is, âWell, that needs to be fixed before anything else.â
Itâs the reason why âbecause I donât want childrenâ isnât enough. Â Itâs the reason why adoption is never seen as an option because âyouâll want some of your own someday.â Â Itâs the reason why people put such value on âextending the family lineâ and âcontinuing the family name.â
Itâs the reason I have to say I hate children for people to stop questioning me.  Itâs the reason I have to monitor my conversations with certain people because theyâll say, âAh, see, you DO like kids!!â  Itâs the reason parts of my dysphoria kicks in hard when I see the sort of things mentioned above.  Because, unless something happens to remove or damage a uterus, it is not only expected, but demanded of you to know why youâre refusing âthe most precious gift on Earth,â âyour womanly duty,â âthe greatest love youâll ever know,â and so forth.
Itâs the reason why âI hate childrenâ is rolled off my tongue more and more until finally people just stop talking.
But I donât hate children.
I hate the culture of children.
I hate the misogyny that surrounds pregnancy.
Most of all, I hate the people who perpetuate this culture, who deny someone else the right to say they donât want to be part of it, who threaten to make them part of it.
But, you know, itâs so much easier to just say I hate children.
THIS THIS THIS Iâve been trying for YEARS to articulate to people around me why I so often go âew, kids, GOD no!â
Iâve been searching for how to articulate my feelings on children properly and this post did it. God bless.
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