“The reality is that fat people are often supported in hating their bodies, in starving themselves, in engaging in unsafe exercise, and in seeking out weight loss by any means necessary. A thin person who does these things is considered mentally ill. A fat person who does these things is redeemed by them. This is why our culture has no concept of a fat person who also has an eating disorder. If you’re fat, it’s not an eating disorder — it’s a lifestyle change.”
— Lesley Kinzel (via mustangblood)

(via mustangblood)

jencorpsichord:

young adult things: washing your colors with your whites because you don’t care you JUST don’t fucking care

(via defiantbritta)

“Do not pray for an easy life, pray for the strength to endure a difficult one.”
— Bruce Lee  (via eternally-evocative)

(via law-suits)

“To understand art is to kill art. It was not made to be understood, it does not exist to be understood. Do you understand love? Do you understand the sky? To feel art - to feel it break your heart and make you unreasonably happy, to feel its hope despite its hopelessness, to feel its anger and destructiveness - this is art. Let it take you over and let it overwhelm you. Let it hurt you. Let it change you. Let it stab you in the chest and make you bleed, let it make you high and bring you down. Let it make you want to change the world, and let it tell you that you can’t. Let it make you feel, let it make you feel, let it make you feel.”
— (via orlansky)

(via orlansky)

“As a child I never heard one woman say to me, “I love my body.” Not my mother, my elder sister, my best friend. No one woman has ever said, “I am so proud of my body.” So I make sure to say it to Mia, because a positive physical outlook has to start at an early age.”
— Kate Winslet, speaking about her daughter.  (via thatkindofwoman)

(via smibeans)


seth avett + hair

buttonpoetry:

Brenna Twohy - “Fantastic Breasts and Where To Find Them” (NPS 2014)

"My sex cannot be packaged. My sex is magic. It is part of a bigger story. I am whole. I exist when you are not fucking me."

One of the most memorable poems we saw at the National Poetry Slam this year. Harry Potter, feminism, sex positivity.

Here it is: You have been touched so many times that a hand on your back doesn’t make you flinch anymore. Your legs spread effortlessly, your lips bloom, your hands turn to waterfalls.

We were seated across from each other, having a conversation about the weather, when his hand slipped under the table. Your eyes widened for a second and then you went right back to spitting up thunderstorms and floods.

I wonder the last time you were touched and felt something; when you didn’t just close your eyes, lie back, and hope it’d be over soon. You’ve told me story after story about the bedrooms you’ve seen. Boys who lived with their mothers. Men with shiny, modern lofts overlooking screaming cities. Women who decorated with candles and stacks of books. I wonder when you last brought someone into your bedroom and let them see something besides the smooth insides of your thighs. When they saw your journals, your dog-eared books, your photographs, your thoughts.

You are better at the language of sex than love. I get it. Sex is simple. The game of “grab your clothes and go” always plays out the same. There are rules and restrictions in it: don’t ask them to breakfast first, don’t leave anything behind, don’t text back, don’t get attached. Sex, when it’s just sex, is easy. It’s nothing. And that’s fine. But being wanted is one thing and being loved is another, and I wonder now if you say “I love you” with a shut mouth, shut eyes, and open thighs.

Being Wanted | Lora Mathis (via lora-mathis)

(via lora-mathis)

giantassrobot:

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)

(via michaelsnot)