I know that love’s a cliche,
but I need it anyway.

babul, my heart is afraid

marry me off to an ironsmith
who will melt my chains

gpoy - woke up to sunlight in my face the other day and it felt reaaall nice gpoy - woke up to sunlight in my face the other day and it felt reaaall nice gpoy - woke up to sunlight in my face the other day and it felt reaaall nice gpoy - woke up to sunlight in my face the other day and it felt reaaall nice

gpoy - woke up to sunlight in my face the other day and it felt reaaall nice

body things

  • i’m doing strength training nowadays
  • it feels really good to go up in weights or feel myself being lighter/stronger
  • i’m still really bad with drinking water and staying away from pizza
  • i’ve been thinking about eating ethically sourced fish a lot lately 
  • i’ve grown my eyebrows out for over a month and have a month left to go before i get them shaped super fancy and idk why but i think about this everyday and it really excites me
  • i’m gonna get a facial in nyc next week also and it’s super exciting to think about being that i’ve always struggled with acne/feeling ugly as a whole
  • i got a prescription for birth control yday and the nurse was so cute
  • at the end of everything she told me, “you’re a free woman!” and it made me so happy 
  • i’m deathly terrified of the side effects so if someone wants to mssg me about that plz do 
  • i haven’t worn make up for the past few days and it’s really nice to try to create a new relationship with the face i see in the mirror
  • it feels like calibrating 
  • i can’t wait to buy blue eyeliner again because i lost mine 
  • i also have had 0 cigarettes in a month 
cagedlions:

EPIC
cagedlions:

EPIC
cagedlions:

EPIC
cagedlions:

EPIC
cagedlions:

EPIC
cagedlions:

EPIC
cagedlions:

EPIC
cagedlions:

EPIC
cagedlions:

EPIC
cagedlions:

EPIC

fiftyfortyninety:

brianashanee:

😴

Will never get tired of this look.

want.

gpoy: gonna keep it weird today edition

i am v happy that i am sober nowadays more than am i drunk or high

SOMEONE PLEASE TALK TO ME ABOUT GRAD SCHOOL AND THE FUTURE I REALLY NEED A MENTOR OR SOMETHING

In a dream you found a way to survive and you were full of joy

I hope my lack of response to you indicates the amount of fucks I do not give.

visual-poetry:

“the beginning of the war will be secret” by jenny holzer

(via sylvides)

“Here’s to the security guards who maybe had a degree in another land. Here’s to the manicurist who had to leave her family to come here, painting the nails, scrubbing the feet of strangers. Here’s to the janitors who don’t even fucking understand English yet work hard despite it all. Here’s to the fast food workers who work hard to see their family smile. Here’s to the laundry man at the Marriott who told me with the sparkle in his eyes how he was an engineer in Peru. Here’s to the bus driver, the Turkish Sufi who almost danced when I quoted Rumi. Here’s to the harvesters who live in fear of being deported for coming here to open the road for their future generation. Here’s to the taxi drivers from Nigeria, Ghana, Egypt and India who gossip amongst themselves. Here is to them waking up at 4am, calling home to hear the voices of their loved ones. Here is to their children, to the children who despite it all become artists, writers, teachers, doctors, lawyers, activists and rebels. Here’s to Western Union and Money Gram. For never forgetting home. Here’s to their children who carry the heartbeats of their motherland and even in sleep, speak with pride about their fathers. Keep on.”

Immigrants. First generation.

Ijeoma Umebinyuo.

dishabillic:

Even the word superfluous is superfluous. I don’t have a desire for thoughts spoken louder than themselves. I like minimalism: using a word when it slips right out of your mouth and onto a sentence. English hasn’t been bending in my mouth correctly. It’s jaded and sharp against my tongue. It stains my teeth. The magic has evaporated; I don’t know who left the stove on for too long. I keep looking for honey like it’s the anti-septic my mind needs. Marmalade sounds soft in my mouth. Organic. I’m thinking about the way peaches bruise when you drop them and how mothers bruise a little when fed up, they yell at their children. Moms are peaches when you think you want ice cream. But sometimes, you want ice cream and a toothache- a bruise to remember that our skin carries our sugar. Bruises cry a lament for forgotten softness. 

A year later and this is still exactly how I feel.