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I destroyed my body for a peace of mind I never got.
Unknown (via contentum)

(via flotes)

Apr 19, 2014 / 163,120 notes
I am more sensitive than other people. Things that other people would not notice awaken a distinct echo in me, and in such moments of lucidity, when I look at myself, I see that I am alone, all alone, all alone.
Henri Barbusse (via emotsiya)

(via cordealia)

Apr 19, 2014 / 719 notes

A boy sprawled next to me on the bus, elbows out, knee pointing sharp into my thigh.
He frowned at me when I uncrossed my legs, unfolded my hands
and splayed out like boys are taught to: all big, loose limbs.
I made sure to jab him in the side with my pretty little sharp purse.
At first he opened his mouth like I expected him to, but instead of speaking up he sat there, quiet, and took it for the whole bus ride.
Like a girl.

Once, a boy said my anger was cute, and he laughed,
and I remember thinking that I should sit there and take it,
because it isn’t ladylike to cause a scene and girls aren’t supposed to raise their voices.
But then he laughed again and all I saw
was my pretty little sharp nails digging into his cheek
before drawing back and making a horribly unladylike fist.
(my teacher informed me later that there is no ladylike way of making a fist.)

When we were both in the principal’s office twenty minutes later
him with a bloody mouth and cheek, me with skinned knuckles,
I tried to explain in words that I didn’t have yet
that I was tired of having my emotions not taken seriously
just because I’m a girl.

Girls are taught: be small, so boys can be big.
Don’t take up any more space than absolutely necessary.
Be small and smooth with soft edges
and hold in the howling when they touch you and it hurts:
the sandpaper scrape of their body hair that we would be shamed for having,
the greedy hands that press too hard and too often take without asking permission.

Girls are taught: be quiet and unimposing and oh so small
when they heckle you with their big voices from the window of a car,
because it’s rude to scream curse words back at them, and they’d just laugh anyway.
We’re taught to pin on smiles for the boys who jeer at us on the street
who see us as convenient bodies instead of people.

Girls are taught: hush, be hairless and small and soft,
so we sit there and take it and hold in the howling,
pretend to be obedient lapdogs instead of the wolves we are.
We pin pretty little sharp smiles on our faces instead of opening our mouths,
because if we do we get accused of silly women emotions
blowing everything out of proportion with our PMS, we get
condescending pet names and not-so-discreet eyerolls.

Once, I got told I punched like a girl.
I told him, Good. I hope my pretty little sharp rings leave scars.

'My Perfume Doubles As Mace,' theappleppielifestyle. (via albinwonderland)

(via nowherepast)

Apr 19, 2014 / 187,937 notes
Apr 19, 2014 / 15,828 notes

hotclog:

i hit rock bottom like every 5 hours

(via viearbre)

Apr 16, 2014 / 5,374 notes

(via cordealia)

Apr 16, 2014 / 5,700 notes

(via uzucu)

Apr 16, 2014 / 1,989 notes

(via cordealia)

I have always lived violently, drunk hugely, eaten too much or not at all, slept around the clock or missed two nights of sleeping, worked too hard and too long in glory, or slobbed for a time in utter laziness. I’ve lifted, pulled, chopped, climbed, made love with joy and taken my hangovers as a consequence, not as a punishment.
John Steinbeck (via perfect)

(via cordealia)

Apr 16, 2014 / 8,725 notes
I know who I was this morning, but I’ve changed a few times since then.
Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass (via mellowmodesty)

(via nowherepast)

Apr 16, 2014 / 46,680 notes
All I ever really want to know is how other people are making it through life—where do they put their body, hour by hour, and how do they cope inside of it.
Miranda July (via minuty)

(via nowherepast)

Apr 16, 2014 / 162 notes
Apr 16, 2014 / 194,580 notes

(via viearbre)

Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.
Walt Whitman (via thisismeowmix)

(via cordealia)

Apr 16, 2014 / 119 notes
We’re so bad at sex and then we wonder why women aren’t like, really aggressive about sex. We think it’s cause they don’t have as much desire as we do. That’s how stupid men are, that we think ‘they’re just weird, women are like fucked up in the head cause they don’t wanna just fuck all the time. If I was a women, I’d just fuck everybody. Why don’t they wanna fuck all the time? I do’. Of course you do, cause when you fuck, you get to fuck a woman! When she fucks, she has to fuck a guy! Wildly different experiences. For a man, 100% of the time, it’s the greatest thing that ever happened in his entire life. For a woman, about 40% of the time, when she’s being fucked by a guy, she’s thinking ‘I’ll get over this in a week. It’s not the worst thing. I’m not gonna cry this time’


“Another thing that proves how bad men are at sex is that after sex, you’re looking at two very different people. The man just wants to lay there, be cool and the woman wants to cuddle…’Why is she so NEEDY?’ She’s not needy you idiot, she’s horny, because you did nothing for her. YOU DID ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. HER PUSSY IS ON FIRE BECAUSE IT’S GONE UNFUCKED COMPLETELY. Of course you’re fine, you climbed on and went “KFHGSKG” and rolled off. And she’s on you because she’s like ‘WH-at SOMETHING ELSE HAS TO HAPPEN, THIS IS BULLSHIT!!” If you fuck a woman well, she will LEAVE YOU ALONE. ‘Thanks a lot buddy, zzzzz’

Oh, Louis CK, advocate for the female orgasm (via silmarillions)

(via cordealia)

Apr 16, 2014 / 133,135 notes
I am constantly torn between wanting to improve myself and wanting to destroy myself.
Apr 16, 2014 / 37,086 notes
Apr 7, 2014 / 12,063 notes

(via viearbre)