classy girls don't kiss in bars you fool
Julia, 19, Canada.
The Vampire Diaries. Friday Night Lights. Gossip Girl. Lady Gaga. Harry Potter. Harry Styles. Miley Cyrus. Perks of Being a Wallflower.
My wants are simple: a job that I like and a guy whom I love. —Emily Giffin, Something Borrowed (via justinbieberthinks)
you deserve flowers on your doorstep
and coffee in the morning
you deserve notes left on your dashboard
and ice cream sundaes at 3am
you deserve honesty every day
and to be kissed every hour
you deserve to be reminded
how beautiful you are —Unknown (via ohdreaming)
Not sad.
Not happy.
But empty. —(via ehhumans)
you don’t get to stay
protected
in thin little girl skin
forever.
eventually
you will simply
have to grow the fuck up.
life will spit in your face,
learn
to spit back.
no amount of weight
may shift reality.
empty stomachs
are not earth shattering.
health
is a political statement. —Michelle K., little girl, meet reality. (via michellekpoems)

yepitsprep:

Blogged: I love anorganizedgirl​’s planners!

It’s Monday. I’m going home at 6pm and a middle aged man and a teenage boy are the only people left on the bus with me. I consider the fact that because the driver is also a man I am the only person left on the bus with the correct genetic makeup for boobs. I’m automatically scared, scared because of my own anatomy. I wonder how old I was when I realized that my own body was going to be the cause of the constant anxiety and fear I feel in situations like this. I get off at the last stop and the older man smiles at me while following me up the street. His smile drips, drips, drips and my heart is pounding, pounding, pounding. He turns off down another road, but I run the rest of the way home.

Not all men.

I’m at home on a Tuesday, beginning to plan the travels I want to go on next year. I dream of wandering the streets and meeting strangers. I just can’t wait to escape the city I’ve lived in for 17 long years. But… my mum is hesitant. She’s forever worried about the danger that being a young girl traveling alone can bring. I’ll be alone and she’s scared. Surely I’m invincible. I feel invincible. But I know, I know this danger is real and I can’t help but think to myself, if I feel unsafe in my own city, how am i going to feel in a strange place with strange men who don’t speak the same language as me? If I was my brother planning this, I would probably just be wondering if European girls are going to be hot.

Not all men.

Wednesday is a beautiful sunny day but I’ve always been told that I don’t have a “nice enough body” to wear a bikini on the beach. Ever since I was 6 years old I’ve thought that having tummy fat was ugly. That skin that doesn’t have a perfectly golden glow is undesirable. I amble to a clear patch of sand in my one piece and I can feel pairs of eyes latching onto me. Hairy men in speedos who I don’t look twice at eat into my body with their stares. I’m a piece of meat. I am a piece of meat? I am here for their amusement. Please don’t let me be eaten alive.

Not all men.

Thursday night two friends and I are walking to our god damn school dance when we hear “Jesus look at you! You sluts heading to a pole?” These words snarl out of the mouth of a respectably dressed man and we stop in horror. Shivers roll up my back in fear. It’s dark. We are alone. What. Do. We. Do??? One of us pulls the finger back. I can never be sure how quickly a sexist man can get angry so we walk quickly away. We’re angry, so so angry. But also so… deflated. I wonder if we deserve this shame.

Not all men.

Sitting on the internet, Friday night and scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed:

“Haha, good job at the game today bro. You RAPED them!”
“Damn with tits like that, you’re asking for it :P”

Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…

I’m shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and I want to CRY because these boys don’t realize how small they make me feel with just pressing a few keys. I see these boys on the streets, I talk to these boys, I laugh with these boys. Dear GOD, dear GOD i hope these boys don’t think actions speak louder than words…

Not all men.

Three rules that have been drilled into me since I was young run through my mind at 1.30am on a Satur… Sunday Morning:

-Don’t ever talk to strange men
-Don’t ever be alone at night in a strange place
-Don’t ever get into a car with a stranger

I break all 3 of these laws as I pull open the taxi door. Making light conversation with the driver, he doesn’t see my sweaty hand clutching the small pocket knife I keep hidden on me at all times. He doesn’t even realize the fear I feel at his mere presence. He cannot comprehend it, he never will. How easy would this 15 minute car ride be if I was born a boy?

Not all men.

It comes to Sunday, another snoozy, sleepy, Sunday and someone has the AUDACITY to tell me not all men are rapists. I say nothing.

I’m a 17 year old girl.
When I am walking alone and it’s dark, it’s all men.
When I am in a car with a man I don’t know well, it’s all men.
When men drunkenly leer at me on the streets, it’s all men.
When a boy won’t leave me alone at a party, it’s all men.

Not all men are rapists. But for a young girl like me? Every one of them has the potential to be.

Not.
All.
Men.

a piece i wrote for an english assignment about my personal experiences with rape culture, in particular with the saying “not all men” which i know has been makin a lot of controversy on the internet recently! idk just wanted to share (via trueho)

THIS this this this a thousand times this

(via a-poem-not-a-poet)

Years ago I learned a very cool thing about Robin Williams, and I couldn’t watch a movie of his afterward without thinking of it. I never actually booked Robin Williams for an event, but I came close enough that his office sent over his rider. For those outside of the entertainment industry, a rider lists out an artist’s specific personal and technical needs for hosting them for an event, anything from bottled water and their green room to sound and lighting requirements. You can learn a lot about a person from their rider. This is where rocks bands list their requirement for green M&Ms (which is actually a surprisingly smart thing to do). This is also where a famous environmentalist requires a large gas-guzzling private jet to fly to the event city, but then requires an electric or hybrid car to take said environmentalist to the event venue when in view of the public.
When I got Robin Williams’ rider, I was very surprised by what I found. He actually had a requirement that for every single event or film he did, the company hiring him also had to hire a certain number of homeless people and put them to work. I never watched a Robin Williams movie the same way after that. I’m sure that on his own time and with his own money, he was working with these people in need, but he’d also decided to use his clout as an entertainer to make sure that production companies and event planners also learned the value of giving people a chance to work their way back. I wonder how many production companies continued the practice into their next non-Robin Williams project, as well as how many people got a chance at a job and the pride of earning an income, even temporarily, from his actions. He was a great multiplier of his impact. Let’s hope that impact lives on without him. Thanks, Robin Williams- not just for laughs, but also for a cool example. —Brian Lord.org  (via boysncroptops)
There are two reasons why people don’t talk about things; either it doesn’t mean anything to them, or it means everything —Luna Adriana (via a-s-h-e)
If they miss you, they’ll call. If they want you, they’ll say it. If they care, they’ll show it. And if not, they aren’t worth your time. —(via jasfuckinq)

koalugh:

 

Even if we’re married for 23 years,
I still want you to flirt with me. —A novel written by me. (via princessariel2323)
Just once, please choose me first. —Six word story, May 20, 2014 (191/365)
We were. And then we weren’t. —Unknown  (via lostkittensouls)
★     LANAWINTIRS