THE FLORAL SKULL

Welcome to Insanity

looksomewhereelse:

I was wearing this outfit today to a grocery store when I made a baby smile. I was wearing this outfit today when I threw my head back and laughed, when I sang in the car with my family, when I filled it with yummy food to keep it healthy.
I was wearing this outfit today to a grocery store when I overheard a woman telling her young daughter who was pointing and laughing that I would get what’s coming to me. I was wearing this outfit today when a woman told a man that it was the wrong kind of attention and that I was asking for someone to get me. I was wearing this outfit today when the same man stared at my body longingly and then agreed with the woman that I was asking for an attack.
I was not wearing this outfit when I was raped. I was wearing a size XXL hoodie and a pair of my mom’s sweatpants, much to the shock of the friend I told after, who asked what she’d been taught to ask: “What were you wearing?”. I feel so terrible for the little girl whose mother was teaching her at the grocery store that she deserved to be assaulted if she dressed comfortably for the weather, which was climbing above 80 degrees, or for an injury, which called for a brace and a boot that doesn’t allow room for long pants, or for her body, because it’s hers and she can put on it what she damn well pleases. I feel terrible for the man who will look me up and down as though I was a 5 for $20 steak deal he might purchase and will immediately after speak to a presumable stranger about the violent fate I deserved. I feel terrible for the woman with fabulous hair who feels she can express herself but refuses to let me do the same.
Summer is coming up. It’s hot outside. I have an injured ankle, and a tight boot and brace to wear on one leg. I will not dress uncomfortably to protect complete strangers who are so offended by an expanse of skin that they console themselves by predicting my next rape.
Stop perpetuating slut-shaming and thus perpetuating a culture of excused rape. Stop perpetuating slut-shaming and thus perpetuating a culture of insecurity, inherent shame, and body image distortion which can cause an innumerable amount of incredibly dark issues nearly impossible to overcome.
My body is mine, and I love it. It is the house I live in, with which I will someday create a family, with which I run and dance and hold the strong lungs I use to sing. I refuse to be ashamed of it for any reason, especially the reason being that this culture which glorifies sex and punishes those who have it, which encourages being sexy and then preaches that sexy girls ask for attack, has taught its people that my stomach is a sin.
Please think twice this summer before you choose to say anything at all to or about anyone who wears something they choose to wear. Please think twice before you say that a girl deserves to be raped for wearing shorts. Please try and catch yourself when you think things like that. Please be courteous and gentle and loving, and spend your effort tackling real problems. My stomach and legs are not a real problem.



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looksomewhereelse:

I was wearing this outfit today to a grocery store when I made a baby smile. I was wearing this outfit today when I threw my head back and laughed, when I sang in the car with my family, when I filled it with yummy food to keep it healthy.

I was wearing this outfit today to a grocery store when I overheard a woman telling her young daughter who was pointing and laughing that I would get what’s coming to me. I was wearing this outfit today when a woman told a man that it was the wrong kind of attention and that I was asking for someone to get me. I was wearing this outfit today when the same man stared at my body longingly and then agreed with the woman that I was asking for an attack.

I was not wearing this outfit when I was raped. I was wearing a size XXL hoodie and a pair of my mom’s sweatpants, much to the shock of the friend I told after, who asked what she’d been taught to ask: “What were you wearing?”. I feel so terrible for the little girl whose mother was teaching her at the grocery store that she deserved to be assaulted if she dressed comfortably for the weather, which was climbing above 80 degrees, or for an injury, which called for a brace and a boot that doesn’t allow room for long pants, or for her body, because it’s hers and she can put on it what she damn well pleases. I feel terrible for the man who will look me up and down as though I was a 5 for $20 steak deal he might purchase and will immediately after speak to a presumable stranger about the violent fate I deserved. I feel terrible for the woman with fabulous hair who feels she can express herself but refuses to let me do the same.

Summer is coming up. It’s hot outside. I have an injured ankle, and a tight boot and brace to wear on one leg. I will not dress uncomfortably to protect complete strangers who are so offended by an expanse of skin that they console themselves by predicting my next rape.

Stop perpetuating slut-shaming and thus perpetuating a culture of excused rape. Stop perpetuating slut-shaming and thus perpetuating a culture of insecurity, inherent shame, and body image distortion which can cause an innumerable amount of incredibly dark issues nearly impossible to overcome.

My body is mine, and I love it. It is the house I live in, with which I will someday create a family, with which I run and dance and hold the strong lungs I use to sing. I refuse to be ashamed of it for any reason, especially the reason being that this culture which glorifies sex and punishes those who have it, which encourages being sexy and then preaches that sexy girls ask for attack, has taught its people that my stomach is a sin.

Please think twice this summer before you choose to say anything at all to or about anyone who wears something they choose to wear. Please think twice before you say that a girl deserves to be raped for wearing shorts. Please try and catch yourself when you think things like that. Please be courteous and gentle and loving, and spend your effort tackling real problems. My stomach and legs are not a real problem.

(via flyingviolet)

raptorific:

Okay well obviously one of us is going to have to go home and change

Do you ever feel………..like a plastic bag?

(via apertumcodex)

artissimo:

assassin s creed iv black flag underwater wreck by donglu yuCFSL.NET CAFE SALE -ARTBOOK T1



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artissimo:

assassin s creed iv black flag underwater wreck by donglu yu

CFSL.NET CAFE SALE -ARTBOOK T1

(via everythingasscreed)


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(Source: vorfreudde, via ughtumblah)

We work in the dark to serve the light.
We are Assassins.

(Source: hotpixelatedmen, via talmit-deactivated20140520)

fhaul:

repeat after me: i am a sexy bitch and no one ruins my 2014

(Source: fhauly, via altmaled)

“The hardest period in life is one’s twenties. It’s a shame because you’re your most gorgeous, and you’re physically in peak condition. But it’s actually when you’re most insecure and full of self-doubt. When you don’t know what’s going to happen, it’s frightening.”

—   

Helen Mirren, quoted in Esquire’s “What I’ve Learned” (via undeadlife)

(Source: wordsthat-speak, via altmaled)

(via mmmm-pizza)

frankenkittens:

slowlylearningselflove:

my dream life right there

THIS IS ALL I HAVE EVER WANTED

What about it’s poop? What if decides to randomly claw you for no fucking reason like assholian cats do? What if it pees randomly on what you love the most when you don’t feed it? You’ll drown man. As fluffy as it may look, this think is fucking dangerous.

(Source: journey2somewhere, via mermviid)

Men categorize women in one of four ways:
Mothers, virgins, sluts and bitches.
Of course none of the above is suitable for the modern business woman.
But you can create your own image by selecting pieces of each archetype that work for you.
The sexual attractiveness of the slut.
The wisdom of the mother.
The integrity of the virgin.
The independence of the bitch.
This leaves men confused and unable to pigeonhole you.
What they are forced to do instead is take you seriously.

(Source: theconsultingvillain, via frompawntoqueen)

The universe in a cup of coffee… OMFG WHAT IF THE UNIVERSE IS A FUCKING CUP OF COFFEE?!

The universe in a cup of coffee… OMFG WHAT IF THE UNIVERSE IS A FUCKING CUP OF COFFEE?!

(Source: onepointeight, via sincerelyjanelleliane)

beinggayisokay:

screwsociety:

you know girls can tell when you look at their boobs

i don’t care how quickly you glance, 1 second is like 5 seconds in boob time

boob time

I just inform the glorious boob wielder that I will stare at their greatness beforehand. They’re so confused because no one does it so I get away with it.

(via iwishicouldfindabooktolivein)

sluttyoliveoil:

im jealous of girls with nice perfume because they always smell so good and i probably smell like nachos

I would take home someone that smells like nachos…

(via maybe-its-insanity)