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Beauty and purity go hand in hand, and are tied up in a false sense of modesty. This type of attractiveness comes from being white, virginal, conventionally attractive and actively or deliberately ignorant of meeting that standard of attractiveness. It comes from needing to be seen as beautiful even “without any makeup on” but in “skin-tight jeans” if you’re Katy Perry, from Bruno Mars ‘knowing’ that “when I compliment her, she won’t believe me,” and in reminding a boy that he should be dating a girl who isn’t a shallow hussy, if you’re Taylor Swift.
All of this encourages girls to constantly strive to meet an arbitrary standard of attractiveness that fuels multiple industries (dieting and cosmetics, primarily) while reminding them that their job is to be appealing to men but never to admit that they’re trying to be good-looking for men, and never admit that they look good – especially if they’re not skinny or white. It creates a maelstrom of unhealthy attitudes about girls’ bodies and sexuality. Girls must be all things: attractive and unknowing, winking about sex and flaunting their sexuality but never expressing desire or – worse – actually having sex, and presenting their bodies as sexually available while deriding those girls whose sex lives are more active than their own. They must do all this while being straight, slender and white and preferably blonde or they’re not really even in the game to begin with.
I was in shock. I thought only in third-world countries people worked hours like this — a fourteen-hour day is the norm…You’re making more money [by doing overtime], but it is blood money, ‘cause you’re trading your life.
Find what you love and let it kill you.
During one of my semesters in college I ate a dozen glazed donuts every morning. I was kind of depressed.
Blake 

I had a nightmare last night that there were a thousand other girls wearing the same pair of shoes as me. 

My greatest fear is mediocrity. 

The hardest part about religion is that every “believer” believes something different.

The hardest part about religion is that every “believer” believes something different.

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless–it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.
C. S. Lewis

God, if You can hear, can you help me and my friends? 

We’ve been driving all night into dead ends. 

We just wanna find our own way home again. 

We knew You as kids but lost You in smoky bars. 

We lost You in the boom of lowered cars;

In parties that grew into the yard.

God, if You can hear, as the sun is creeping down, 

Could You kindly point me right out of town? 

Honestly I’m sick and tired of falling down. 

We knew You’d be here in the fray of darkest nights, 

and the sad and holy glow of TV light, 

in the blood and the bruise of back-alley fights. 

So we’re totally deprived, 

buried alive.

I couldn’t help myself to save my life.

Insomnia killed the cat.

Anonymous
asks:
If you had to live one place and have one job for the rest of your life...where and what would it be?

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