Statistically, a woman is more likely to be hurt by a man than she is to ever be eaten by a shark, hit by a car, be attacked by a bear, crash in a plane, or be bitten by a spider. When a woman expresses fear of any of these events, she is still seen as a rational person. When I tell people that I am afraid of swimming in the ocean because I’m afraid of sharks, they accept it almost without question. But, when I tell people that I’m afraid of men, that men scare me more than sharks and spiders and freak plane accidents all combined, I immediately lose their respect. I am considered elitist. I am considered sub-human.

A Benediction For My Daughter (via rococoswagbitch)

(via broadwayslikethat)

Originally from Flower Boy


Ann Lislegaard, Nothing but Space, 1997

Ann Lislegaard, Nothing but Space, 1997

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Source: nyctaeus

Originally from jordan

thepussytrembles:

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Source: thepussytrembles

Originally from Initiating Slut Mode

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Source: wtfchrisstuff

Originally from Twisting Thoughts...

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Source: myseinfeldblogisgreaterthanyours

Originally from My Seinfeld Blog > Yours

time-sponges:

You sit at the restaurant with your young son, he says he is hungry.  You agree to get him dinner. You open up to the kids menu, your child is far to young for adult food. Chicken nugger stares at you from the page. You don’t understand. Your palms get sweaty and your son complains. He says he is hungry.  Your mind strains, searching for an answer in a world of sweer potato and french fried. You try to order the chicken nugger, but you cannot. The words cannot escape your lips. Your son is hungry, he complains. The waitress stares at you, her head a spinning chicken nugger, her arms swinging french fried. Your son cries the tears of a chicken nugger-less child. In your mind you scream. It is raining sweer potato now, you have french fried engraved on your left temple and you do not understand. Your son weeps in the corner, he is starving. Starving for the chicken nugger.

time-sponges:

You sit at the restaurant with your young son, he says he is hungry.  You agree to get him dinner. You open up to the kids menu, your child is far to young for adult food. Chicken nugger stares at you from the page. You don’t understand. Your palms get sweaty and your son complains. He says he is hungry.  Your mind strains, searching for an answer in a world of sweer potato and french fried. You try to order the chicken nugger, but you cannot. The words cannot escape your lips. Your son is hungry, he complains. The waitress stares at you, her head a spinning chicken nugger, her arms swinging french fried. Your son cries the tears of a chicken nugger-less child. In your mind you scream. It is raining sweer potato now, you have french fried engraved on your left temple and you do not understand. Your son weeps in the corner, he is starving. Starving for the chicken nugger.

(via hellaverklemmt)

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Source: pponies

Originally from Flower Boy

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Source: pixiv.net

Originally from 軟城

jesuisperdu:

ha !

jesuisperdu:

ha !

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Source: clickthefrog

Originally from the "darling" part was accidental

— Yes, I was infatuated with you; I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn’t stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren’t having any of those. —

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via lifeinpoetry)

Originally from the château of my heart

I am overwhelmed????

I am overwhelmed????

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Source: justinhenryphoto

Originally from Justin Henry Photo