Hemingway is my lover and Elton John is my soulmate. Simon and Garfunkel are my best buds. Agatha Christie is the sister I never had. When I'm famous, Tennyson will be my speechwriter.
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
My grandmother grew up in this tiny village in Barbados, and she was the only kid in the village to have a cricket bat. She used to play with all the boys, but then they started stealing the bat every time she bought it out of the house and saying that she couldn’t play because girls shouldn’t play sport. So one day she invited them to come play cricket, then set fire to the bat and made them watch it burn, so none of them could play cricket anymore. She was 11.
(Source: nevrrmoore)
Rikka Ayasaki
I guess being needed is almost as good as being loved. Maybe better.
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn; Betty Smith (via cirea)
(Source: allmymetaphors)
I suspect it’s difficult for men to imagine a world in which their bodies have long been inextricably linked to their value as an individual, and that no matter how encouraging your parents were or how many positive female role models you had or how self-confident you feel, there is an ever-present pressure that creeps in from all sides, whispering in your ear that you are your body and your body defines you. A world where, from the time of pubescence on, you can feel the constant and palpable weight of the male gaze, and not just from your male peers but from teachers and sports coaches and the fathers of the children you baby-sit, people you’re supposed to respect and trust and look up to, and that first realization that you are being looked at in that way is the beginning of a self-consciousness that you will be unable to shake for the rest of your life.Even if they are never verbalized, the rules of bodily conduct for females become clear early on: when school administrators reprimand you for the inch of midriff that shows when you lift your hands straight in the air or youth group leaders tell you that the sight of your unintentional cleavage is what causes godly young men to fall, you learn that your body is dangerous and shameful and that it’s your responsibility to cloister it in a way that is acceptable to everyone else. You learn that your body is a topic of public debate that everyone is entitled to weigh in on, from a male classmate telling you that those jeans make your ass look huge to the male-dominated United States Congress dictating the parameters that rape must fall within to be considered legitimate. To be a woman, and to live life in a woman’s body, is to be held to a set of comically paradoxical standards that make you constantly second-guess yourself and jump through a million hoops in pursuit of an impossible perfection.
Stop Catcalling Me (via albinwonderland)
This is a fantastically clear and salient account of extremely confusing experiences which I have never been able to accurately verbalise. Amazing.
(via ideas-are-bulletpro0f)
fucking this!
(via damaged-and-fallen)
(Source: lancyann)
Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness. I am kind to everyone, but when someone is unkind to me, weak is not what you are going to remember about me.
Al Capone (via the-healing-nest)
(Source: mrcheyl)
this elephant represents every tumblr user when doing sport
(Source: samanthabrown1)
(Source: nydotr)
thordinson:aeromachia:sergeantprnz:
WHO NAMED THIS FLOWER
IT BARGES INTO ALL YOUR CONVERSATIONS
IT GIVES YOU A STUPID NICKNAME WHEN YOU’VE MET, LIKE, ONCE
IT WIGGLES ITS STAMENS AT YOU SUGGESTIVELY FOR NO REASON
IT IS: THE AGGRESSIVELY FORWARD BEARDED IRIS
in love with this flower oh my god
I just noticed the GUARANTEED TO GROW part of the label brb dying
I just needed this back on my dash.
