Anastasia. 18. Go Crazy.

iwriteaboutfeminism:

City Council meeting on Tuesday night in Ferguson. Part 4.

psychedelic-flower-childd:

☪ ☯ ☮

psychedelic-flower-childd:

☪ ☯ ☮

wi-ch:

WHOLES AROUND OPENINGS90 x 90 cmoil on canvas2014

wi-ch:

WHOLES AROUND OPENINGS
90 x 90 cm
oil on canvas
2014

lythedis:

iacknowledgebuttholesexist:

the-uncensored-she:

postracialcomments:

Protests today in Ferguson

#ArrestDarrenWilson, #JusticeforMikeBrown, #BlackLivesMatter, #Ferguson

I am so for this. Literally millions of vehicles travel I-70 every day; maybe it should be blocked off every day until shit gets done. People will sure as hell start paying attention again if the delivery trucks aren’t getting to the Walmarts to stock their fucking Doritos and Mt. Dew.

SHUT SHIT DOWN!! DON’T LET AMERICA FORGET!!!

FUCKING HELL

AND THIS ISNT BEING TELEVISED

rxndomparadise:

deep conversations with open minded people are my most favorite things ever

autumnbones:

this photograph intrigues me so much! why isn’t this the most famous photo from 9/11 instead of the falling man? isn’t 2 people holding hands after jumping more significant than 1 man? it makes me wonder what the story is behind this photo, were they friends or lovers? or just strangers who were too scared to jump alone? it shows that people need a helping hand even in their final moments, i love it.

Fucking reblog today; tomorrow. Any day I see it on my dash. Beautiful. I for one think they were strangers. Sometimes it’s easier to care for a stranger, how else would they have found the courage to not only jump, but to look into someone’s eyes and jump. I don’t think I could have done that if I knew the person well.

autumnbones:

this photograph intrigues me so much! why isn’t this the most famous photo from 9/11 instead of the falling man? isn’t 2 people holding hands after jumping more significant than 1 man? it makes me wonder what the story is behind this photo, were they friends or lovers? or just strangers who were too scared to jump alone? it shows that people need a helping hand even in their final moments, i love it.

Fucking reblog today; tomorrow. Any day I see it on my dash. Beautiful. I for one think they were strangers. Sometimes it’s easier to care for a stranger, how else would they have found the courage to not only jump, but to look into someone’s eyes and jump. I don’t think I could have done that if I knew the person well.

fakinq-glory:

today was my last day in my creative writing class and my teacher gave everybody a piece of paper to write down a contract and to put it in our wallets. she said she did the same thing when she was younger and every now and then she’d brush by it and remember that she wanted to write. everybody took time to write out what they wanted and I just sat at the back of the class, sitting on the windowsill and I knew there was only one thing to write but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. at the end of the class after everybody left, I went to thank her for the year, and she told me that people should be reading my words for a long time, but they won’t be able to do that if I’m not around to write them. I showed her the blank piece of paper, and she said it was okay not to write anything, and then I wrote this. I learned the power of words in that class, I learned it was okay to vomit up half a dozen notebooks stained with blood and exploded pens because it means you have something to say.

fakinq-glory:

today was my last day in my creative writing class and my teacher gave everybody a piece of paper to write down a contract and to put it in our wallets. she said she did the same thing when she was younger and every now and then she’d brush by it and remember that she wanted to write. everybody took time to write out what they wanted and I just sat at the back of the class, sitting on the windowsill and I knew there was only one thing to write but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. at the end of the class after everybody left, I went to thank her for the year, and she told me that people should be reading my words for a long time, but they won’t be able to do that if I’m not around to write them. I showed her the blank piece of paper, and she said it was okay not to write anything, and then I wrote this. I learned the power of words in that class, I learned it was okay to vomit up half a dozen notebooks stained with blood and exploded pens because it means you have something to say.