Hello there. Welcome to my page. There is o specific theme to what I post, I generally just go off of my mood.

 

sonianeverlime:

sleepy-tanuki:

A few weeks ago my japanese class did a gift exchange with our penpal class in japan and their box of stuff came in today. All of the gifts had really cute messages on yellow notes. This one was my favorite..image

LETS BECOME DIABETES

Anna Akana: things every girl should know (x)

Wake up angry, rub the wrinkles around your eyes. They don’t go away. You’re angry. You’ve been waking up angry for years now. It shows.

There are scratches on your skin where you can’t stand yourself. You brandish them to the world. ‘This is what you have made me.’ This is what the world made you - strong and wild-eyed and built on insecure foundations. This is what the world made you - angry and determined.

You glare at men irately in the street and take up both armrests on public transport. People side-eye you as though you’re unreasonable. A woman sits next to you. She looks tired. You let her have her fair share of the armrest.

Someone opens the door for you on the way to work. You say thank you. They slap your ass as you pass by. You have never wished so vehemently that you could take your words and wrap them around someone’s throat and twist and see their eyes bulge in fright. In your head, they echo what you’re sure you’ve heard leave the mouth of half the female protagonists you’ve ever seen on screen. ‘What are you going to do to me?’

So, you admit it. ‘Do to me.’ I am going to do something to you. You aren’t going to want it. I’m laughing at you, not with you. This is to you, not with you, and certainly not for you. Remember that.

You stop choking them; they fall to the floor. You aren’t sure whether they’re trying to catch their breath because you used force against them or because you stood up for yourself and it actually scared them. Blink: in reality, there was a split second where you decided whether to turn around and say something or to keep walking. You were unsure which would give them power and which would set them straight. They are still staring at your ass as you walk away. You are sure that both of your options would have empowered them, so you may as well have given them a bruise. But you are already gone.

You’ve been waking up angry since you were ten and you saw someone on the news mention women’s rights. What was ‘feminism’, and why did his lip curl when he said it? you wondered, and you searched, and you found red.

You found rape statistics, classroom statistics, boys-are-more-confident-than-girls statistics, why all men want their girlfriends to do anal, why you should please him, mothers taking their daughters to self defence classes, MRA speeches, pro-life opinions, the condescending and harmful thoughts of men before you in chalk on a Google search and the sudden knowledge that it would never hurt a single one of them.

That stranger who commented on Beyoncé’s picture saying exactly what he’d like to do to her will get hired straight out of college. Slack-jawed teachers will jokingly berate their students, preaching ‘boys will be boys’, before frowning pointedly at bare shoulders and skirts above the knee and ‘shouldn’t have risen to the bait’.

When you were ten, you found red, and you’ve never given up red since. Red in your mouth, red in your veins, red in your underwear. Red. Red on your fingernails, red on your lips. You put away nurturing pink and calm blue for another day. Today you wear red.

We are the girls whose father’s tell us,
“wearing a dress while walking alone
in the city is more dangerous than
driving without a seat belt.”

We are the girls who are taught that
saying sorry after no is our protection
instead of the pocket knife or pepper spray.
Being polite is the only shield we’ll have to offer.

We are the girls who must rid our spaghetti
straps and V-necks on hot days, because simple
minded boys can’t seem to control their
“sexual desires” when seeing bare skin
on the shoulders and back.

We are the girls who are expected to be
smart, but not too smart because we’ll
not be seen as sexy to the male eyes.
“She must have a pretty face behind
that book she’s buried in.”

We are the girls who must add, “please.”
Before asking someone not to touch us,
as if we are asking permission instead
of giving demand.

We are the girls whose principal insists
to look at what we are wearing, “what do
you expect? Boys will be boys.”

i.c. // We are the girls who have been
taught to submit to the man. (via delicatepoetry)

whoneedsfeminism:

I need feminism because I’m afraid of going out alone since I was 14. I was traveling alone all by myself and a man kept staring at me all the way - when he was leaving the bus, he bent over me, touched my thigh and ordered me to call him. 
I’m 17 now and I don’t want to be scared anymore.

whoneedsfeminism:

I need feminism because I’m afraid of going out alone since I was 14. I was traveling alone all by myself and a man kept staring at me all the way - when he was leaving the bus, he bent over me, touched my thigh and ordered me to call him. 

I’m 17 now and I don’t want to be scared anymore.

When we were children, we listened to the stories our mothers told. We wished so badly to be the princess, beautiful, and loved by all people. We wanted to live in a tower, books and talking animals our friends. Hoping the prince would come, the hero who swoops in and saves the day. But as time went on, we came to learn the prince can’t always be relied upon. You got left waiting in the tower, while the prince ran off and had his fun. So we climb down proud and strong, the heroes have left us to our own devices, and so we came to the realization, that a Hero can be anyone. So we don’t need the prince to slay the dragon, we’re just as capable as any man. We are the heroes of the adventure, and we can write the story on our own.”
carasala:

my friend John just wrote the best post about catcalling possibly ever. 

carasala:

my friend John just wrote the best post about catcalling possibly ever. 

shego:

true friendship is skyping but not talking to each other the entire time