Tuesday, April 15, 2014


Alyson Provax - Time Wasting Experiment (2011)

text message



There’s a good chance you’re not reading these
Im moving on, are you?
I almost said im moving on I dont remember the last time it hurt to lie
Im moving into the bottom of a bottle of hard liqour come and get me when you want me back

Thanks for the blue tag on this piece editor :)


“He loves me but not enough. Not as much as he loves her.”


He loves me but not enough. Not as much as he loves her.”

You once told me that I will breathe again, bleed again, but not for the same reason. You once told me that it’s better to paint my walls with pain than to feel nothing. From me to you, I want you to place your own words in your mouth and taste the truth in them. This time around, this is for the lady with a fragmented soul.

My dear, you are more than your inks and your words. You are more than the bandages you tuck in your pockets in case your heart or body bleeds again. You are more than the red paint splashed late at night when your ears are ringing from the overwhelming noise around you and when your eyes open the floodgates of pain. You are more than the screams and cries you gather and store in your lungs. You are more than the deserts, train tracks, and road cracks you’ve mapped on your body. You are more than the voices in your head suffocating you in their whirlwind of lies and drowning you in their abyssal sea of darkness.

You inhale everything around you, even the ones that prick your skin, burn your eyes, and slice your soul. But no matter how much you try to exhale all of them out, you can’t seem to be able to do so completely. I see you struggling. I’ve talked to you when you were struggling. My dear, if the world seems like it’s against you and the things you’ve inhaled are constricting your veins, I’ll be here holding out my hand from where I am. From me to you, you will be fine. I know words can only offer comfort to a certain extent, but when your hands are shaking late at night, when your eyes are fighting to keep the flood at bay, when your body is bolting to leave, when your mind is screaming too loudly, and when your lungs are yearning to give their last exhale, I want you to go outside and look at the sky. Whether it be dusk or dawn, whether it be raining or shining, feel the air and reach for the sky. Close your eyes and remember to breathe in and out. There’s a whole universe inside you. You might be feeling heavy right now, but I can tell you that you will feel light again. You will soar up to the heavens and fly past your sorrows and aches.

a letter for the lady with inks and words (NJ.)
When you are right, you can’t be too radical; when you are wrong, you can’t be too conservative. Martin Luther King Jr.  (via fandomsandfeminism)

(Source: caramelzappa)

These days, before we talk about misogyny, women are increasingly being asked to modify our language so we don’t hurt men’s feelings. Don’t say, “Men oppress women” – that’s sexism, as bad as any sexism women ever have to handle, possibly worse. Instead, say, “Some men oppress women.” Whatever you do, don’t generalise. That’s something men do. Not all men – just some men.

This type of semantic squabbling is a very effective way of getting women to shut up. After all, most of us grew up learning that being a good girl was all about putting other people’s feelings ahead of our own. We aren’t supposed to say what we think if there’s a chance it might upset somebody else or, worse, make them angry. So we stifle our speech with apologies, caveats and soothing sounds. We reassure our friends and loved ones that “you’re not one of those men who hate women”.

What we don’t say is: of course not all men hate women. But culture hates women, so men who grow up in a sexist culture have a tendency to do and say sexist things, often without meaning to. We aren’t judging you for who you are but that doesn’t mean we’re not asking you to change your behaviour. What you feel about women in your heart is of less immediate importance than how you treat them on a daily basis.

You can be the gentlest, sweetest man in the world yet still benefit from sexism. That’s how oppression works.
Of course all men don’t hate women. But all men must know they benefit from sexism  (via albinwonderland)
Monday, April 14, 2014
I want to wake up at 2am, roll over, see your face, and know that I’m right where I’m supposed to be. i love you (via the-psycho-cutie)
Experience is a brutal teacher, but you learn. My god, do you learn. C. S. Lewis (via hefuckin)

(Source: psych-facts)



Anxiety really cramps my style like how am I going to seem chill and fun if I often start trembling and breathing heavily and developing a look of impending doom in my eyes

If Iron Man can do it, so can I


do you ever get in one of those moods where you’re like feeling okay but you’re really sad at the same time and you just want to talk to someone and make them hug you but you feel annoying so you kind of just sit there being really sad


do u ever forget to sleep or eat or drink water or something and ur like “oh shit yeah I need that to live”

(Source: studip)

2 AM

I’m here
But what does that mean
I hunger
I thirst
I cry
I keep on walking
I’m here
And no one can take that from me
But sometimes
Sometimes I wish they would

If gender was ‘performance’, then there would be a way to perform that didn’t result in rape for women. But men rape feminine women. Men rape butch women. Men rape traditional housewives. Men rape teenage crustpunks. Men rape every type of woman. There is no way for a woman to be that doesn’t risk rape. There is no way to perform that lets women escape the confines of gender because gender is not performance; it’s the designator of who can rape and who can be raped, who hurts and who is hurt. Performance has nothing to do with it. HY (via evilfeminist)