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About
The night brings the best surprises.

“The culture in France is, like, you will see women going to the office with a bright red lipstick, like I have, but with no other makeup on whatsoever. With bags under their eyes, not even a hint of mascara. Like, bare face, bright red lipstick, and off they go. But I think that’s very cool.”

— Laura Mercier for Into the Gloss (via amon-isis)

(via whorchata)

3:15 pm  6,759 notes

nevver:

Norway

1:50 pm  3,327 notes

The fact is, a 14-year-old girl may be capable of agreeing to sex with a 49-year-old man, but she doesn’t have the emotional and mental maturity to consent. I was 25 before I realized that every man I’d slept with as a teenager was a pedophile. It seemed to me that since I’d courted the attention, that I was fully culpable. What teenager believes she is not mentally or emotionally capable of full consent? I thought I was an adult, although when I look at the picture of myself from the time period above, I see a child.

I thought I was the exception for these men, the girl so precocious and advanced that it superseded social norms. I thought that I was “older than my chronological age.”

It never occurred to me as a young sexually active teen that the adult men I had relationships with may have been manipulating me, that they had designs and motives I couldn’t see from my limited child’s perspective.

Emily, XOJANE, "The Myth of the Teenage Temptress, or Why a Young Girl Can Not Consent to Sex with an Adult Man"

Everyone should read this article if they haven’t already. The anecdotes are upsetting and carry major TW (pedophilia, graphic depictions of sex), but the message is just so on point. 

(via graculus)

YES YES YES

(via art-is-the-word)

(Source: owning-my-truth, via weirdandnotfun)

1:50 pm  25,528 notes

blue-voids:

Fiona Shaw - Untitled (Lies), 2009

1:50 pm  10,200 notes

“I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say ‘come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.’”

— Azra.T “My Heart is Full of Open Windows.” (via pythons)

(Source: 5000letters, via pythons)

11:08 am  290,684 notes


photographed by Lena C. Emery for Nude the label

11:08 am  1,846 notes

“Many of us have preconceived notions about people’s accents. We find Western European accents—French, British, Castilian Spanish, Italian—relatively appealing, while Asian and Mexican accents are experienced as unintelligible or offensive… if an employee speaks French well and English only moderately well, we aren’t bothered. however, if Filipinos, for example, speak Tagalog to one another at work, the assumptions are that they are purposefully excluding English-speakers, that they are not trying to learn English, and that they don’t care. A mean-spirited quality is attributed to the behavior.”

Frances E. Kendall, Understanding White Privilege 

White supremacy doesn’t regard non-white languages as real languages, it regards them as deviant forms of communication reduced to broad ethnic strokes (“Indian”, “Asian”, “African”) that is unacceptable because it is seen as an affront to white/euro hegemony.

(via notafuckingwizard)

(Source: brutereason, via weirdandnotfun)

7:08 am  20,237 notes

7:07 am  18,998 notes

“You will never realize that an incident which filled but a degree in the circle of your thoughts covered the whole circumference of mine. No person can see exactly what and where another’s horizon is.”

— Thomas Hardy (via likeafieldmouse)

3:30 pm  804 notes

aqqindex:

Ettore Sottsass, What’s the Name of Your Swiss Bank, 1987

3:29 pm  340 notes

“At 19, I read a sentence that re-terraformed my head: “The level of matter in the universe has been constant since the Big Bang.”
In all the aeons we have lost nothing, we have gained nothing - not a speck, not a grain, not a breath. The universe is simply a sealed, twisting kaleidoscope that has reordered itself a trillion trillion trillion times over.
Each baby, then, is a unique collision - a cocktail, a remix - of all that has come before: made from molecules of Napoleon and stardust and comets and whale tooth; colloidal mercury and Cleopatra’s breath: and with the same darkness that is between the stars between, and inside, our own atoms.
When you know this, you suddenly see the crowded top deck of the bus, in the rain, as a miracle: this collection of people is by way of a starburst constellation. Families are bright, irregular-shaped nebulae. Finding a person you love is like galaxies colliding. We are all peculiar, unrepeatable, perambulating micro-universes - we have never been before and we will never be again. Oh God, the sheer exuberant, unlikely face of our existences. The honour of being alive. They will never be able to make you again. Don’t you dare waste a second of it thinking something better will happen when it ends. Don’t you dare.”

— Caitlin Moran (via 9047)

(Source: artvevo, via 9047)

3:27 pm  21,522 notes

3:27 pm  86,399 notes

“She called me at 2 a.m., woke me up from a deep sleep because my Sherlock main theme ringtone interrupted my dream of a better life. When I answered the phone in a daze, I said hello half-awake and all I could hear was the sound of her losing her breath between deep sobs and sniffling. She didn’t say anything for 15 minutes. Just let the sound of her world shattering fill my ears. When she finally caught her words she said my name like it was the last thing she would ever be able to say. Before I could reply with worry, there was a knock at her front door and then the sound of it opening. She turned to her bedroom door to find me standing in the frame. Still half-asleep, still listening. She opened her mouth and the only thing that fell out was silence. I invited myself in her bed, took her body in my arms and her sobbing started again. This time it came in great waves. Waves big enough to pull the both of us under its current. I just lay there, letting her shake in my arms. I was still half-asleep but I was fully aware that she didn’t need the overwhelming silence of our 2 a.m. phone call to know that I was there for her. She needed me to be right beside her.”

— "I’m not there for you, I’m here for you," - Colleen Brown (via mostlyfiction)

(via sylviia)

2:34 pm  7,913 notes

purenoire:

(via Chad Wys)

2:34 pm  2,363 notes

There is a shipwreck between your ribs and it took eighteen years
for me to understand how to understand your kind of drowning.

There are people who cannot be held quietly. There are screams
that are never externalized. If I looked at the photo albums of your
past twenty years, all I would find are decibel meter graphs of
phone calls and the intensity of your silence as you sat
smoking cigarettes in the garage.

There is a shipwreck between your ribs. You are a box with
fragile written on it, and so many people have not handled you
with care.

And for the first time, I understand that I will never know
how to apologize for being
one of them.

— Shinji Moon, What It Took To Understand (via cactuslungs)

(via cybergirlfriend)

2:54 am  26,301 notes

s.t.