and I would walk 500 dogs and I would walk 500 more

(via official-mens-frights-activist)

“Find meaning. Distinguish melancholy from sadness. Go out for a walk. It doesn’t have to be a romantic walk in the park, spring at its most spectacular moment, flowers and smells and outstanding poetical imagery smoothly transferring you into another world. It doesn’t have to be a walk during which you’ll have multiple life epiphanies and discover meanings no other brain ever managed to encounter. Do not be afraid of spending quality time by yourself. Find meaning or don’t find meaning but “steal” some time and give it freely and exclusively to your own self. Opt for privacy and solitude. That doesn’t make you antisocial or cause you to reject the rest of the world. But you need to breathe. And you need to be.

- Albert Camus, from Notebooks, 1951-1959 (via colporteur)

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via colporteur)


Ingrid Michaelson - “Soldier”

(Source: back-litmemories, via professorcockblock)


do not pity the dead, harry, pity the living, and above all those who think feminism means hating men.

(via official-mens-frights-activist)

I was going to die, sooner or later, whether or not I had even spoken myself. My silences had not protected me. Your silences will not protect you…. What are the words you do not yet have? What are the tyrannies you swallow day by day and attempt to make your own, until you will sicken and die of them, still in silence? We have been socialized to respect fear more than our own need for language.

I began to ask each time: “What’s the worst that could happen to me if I tell this truth?” …Our speaking out will irritate some people, get us called bitchy or hypersensitive and disrupt some dinner parties. And then our speaking out will permit other women to speak, until laws are changed and lives are saved and the world is altered forever.

Next time, ask: What’s the worst that will happen? Then push yourself a little further than you dare. Once you start to speak, people will yell at you. They will interrupt you, put you down and suggest it’s personal. And the world won’t end.

And the speaking will get easier and easier. And you will find you have fallen in love with your own vision, which you may never have realized you had. And you will lose some friends and lovers, and realize you don’t miss them. And new ones will find you and cherish you. And you will still flirt and paint your nails, dress up and party, because, as I think Emma Goldman said, “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your revolution.” And at last you’ll know with surpassing certainty that only one thing is more frightening than speaking your truth. And that is not speaking.

- Audre Lorde

(Source: thepeoplesrecord, via official-mens-frights-activist)


Les Misérables Highlights at Dallas Theater Center


(via mgloki)


Please watch this.

British journalist Jon Snow sums up the crisis in Gaza in three minutes.

He explains what he saw and the reality of the situation.

(via mgloki)

“What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.”

- Sylvia Plath (via thesnorkmaiden)

(Source: mangoachaar, via sapphicadventure)


Niggas have a dinner table in Paris
A dinner table at night (1884), John Singer Sargent / Niggas in Paris, Kanye West & Jay-Z


Niggas have a dinner table in Paris

A dinner table at night (1884), John Singer Sargent / Niggas in Paris, Kanye West & Jay-Z

“If you think pubic hair on a woman is unnatural or weird, you aren’t mature enough to be touching vaginas.”

- Stoya

(Source: theslayyer, via lickystickypickyshe)


The World Spins Madly On- The Weepies

I let the day go by 
I always say goodbye
I watch the stars from my window sill 
The whole world is moving and I’m standing still



Life goes on, but individual poems
stop. The most you can hope for is the line
that doesn’t end with a period. You
are suspended in the middle of a
sentence, possibly look up, then resume
reading as if the music never stopped,
as if everyone didn’t have to dive
for the chairs, of which there were always one
too few. This was before birthdays returned
with such increasing rapidity that
you lost count, the world hurtling around the
small yellow star, the entire universe
flashing past your bewildered eyes until,
like a premeditated sonnet, all is still.

from Bilateral Asymmetry by Don Riggs


Call Me Maybe (cover) | Fleet Foxes


(Source: harpocrates, via thecatwhisperer)