- brier - pretty pictures - funny posts - beautiful words -
please follow my other blog http://oheythereyou.tumblr.com/
stunningpicture:

It’s all a matter of perspective

santalinson:

"we’ll be watching a movie in class today"

image

"here’s the packet of questions you’ll have to answer while watching"

image

(Source: upallnighted, via seedy)

jawnpalace:

omg that was beautiful
ozei:

resmoke:

waive:

i-w0nt-fade-away:

davykesey:

Manhattan at 6 a.m.

but just click on the picture 

oh my god

so in love w this city

this is so wonderful i remember when my best friend and i arrived in our hotel here and made a pact to wake up the next morning with the sun and so we set our alarms for 5am and watched the sun rise and it was amazing (and then we crawled back in bed and slept forever)
reallylameblog:

shut the fuck up Fox News
"At what point do you take girls out of school altogether because boys can’t handle it?"
Parent of a female teen
whose school banned leggings (via onlinegf)

(Source: meetingsinthedesert, via slapdancing)

shutupaubrey:

this is the funniest thing i’ve ever come across in my life and no one can tell me otherwise 
"So be sure when you step, Step with care and great tact. And remember that life’s A Great Balancing Act. And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed! (98 and ¾ percent guaranteed) Kid, you’ll move mountains."
Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You’ll Go! (via
kushandwizdom)

zygoats:

im literally always looking at my reflection not because im conceited but because i just think it feels kind strange to have a physical form and im constantly trying to process who and what i am

(via slapdancing)

cali4niabullets:

THIS IS SO WELL DONE IT SCARED ME
"

A boy sprawled next to me on the bus, elbows out, knee pointing sharp into my thigh.
He frowned at me when I uncrossed my legs, unfolded my hands
and splayed out like boys are taught to: all big, loose limbs.
I made sure to jab him in the side with my pretty little sharp purse.
At first he opened his mouth like I expected him to, but instead of speaking up he sat there, quiet, and took it for the whole bus ride.
Like a girl.

Once, a boy said my anger was cute, and he laughed,
and I remember thinking that I should sit there and take it,
because it isn’t ladylike to cause a scene and girls aren’t supposed to raise their voices.
But then he laughed again and all I saw
was my pretty little sharp nails digging into his cheek
before drawing back and making a horribly unladylike fist.
(my teacher informed me later that there is no ladylike way of making a fist.)

When we were both in the principal’s office twenty minutes later
him with a bloody mouth and cheek, me with skinned knuckles,
I tried to explain in words that I didn’t have yet
that I was tired of having my emotions not taken seriously
just because I’m a girl.

Girls are taught: be small, so boys can be big.
Don’t take up any more space than absolutely necessary.
Be small and smooth with soft edges
and hold in the howling when they touch you and it hurts:
the sandpaper scrape of their body hair that we would be shamed for having,
the greedy hands that press too hard and too often take without asking permission.

Girls are taught: be quiet and unimposing and oh so small
when they heckle you with their big voices from the window of a car,
because it’s rude to scream curse words back at them, and they’d just laugh anyway.
We’re taught to pin on smiles for the boys who jeer at us on the street
who see us as convenient bodies instead of people.

Girls are taught: hush, be hairless and small and soft,
so we sit there and take it and hold in the howling,
pretend to be obedient lapdogs instead of the wolves we are.
We pin pretty little sharp smiles on our faces instead of opening our mouths,
because if we do we get accused of silly women emotions
blowing everything out of proportion with our PMS, we get
condescending pet names and not-so-discreet eyerolls.

Once, I got told I punched like a girl.
I told him, Good. I hope my pretty little sharp rings leave scars.

"
'My Perfume Doubles As Mace,' theappleppielifestyle. (via
queenofeden)

(Source: theappleppielifestyle, via odins-one-eyed-fuck)

"

A boy sprawled next to me on the bus, elbows out, knee pointing sharp into my thigh.
He frowned at me when I uncrossed my legs, unfolded my hands
and splayed out like boys are taught to: all big, loose limbs.
I made sure to jab him in the side with my pretty little sharp purse.
At first he opened his mouth like I expected him to, but instead of speaking up he sat there, quiet, and took it for the whole bus ride.
Like a girl.

Once, a boy said my anger was cute, and he laughed,
and I remember thinking that I should sit there and take it,
because it isn’t ladylike to cause a scene and girls aren’t supposed to raise their voices.
But then he laughed again and all I saw
was my pretty little sharp nails digging into his cheek
before drawing back and making a horribly unladylike fist.
(my teacher informed me later that there is no ladylike way of making a fist.)

When we were both in the principal’s office twenty minutes later
him with a bloody mouth and cheek, me with skinned knuckles,
I tried to explain in words that I didn’t have yet
that I was tired of having my emotions not taken seriously
just because I’m a girl.

Girls are taught: be small, so boys can be big.
Don’t take up any more space than absolutely necessary.
Be small and smooth with soft edges
and hold in the howling when they touch you and it hurts:
the sandpaper scrape of their body hair that we would be shamed for having,
the greedy hands that press too hard and too often take without asking permission.

Girls are taught: be quiet and unimposing and oh so small
when they heckle you with their big voices from the window of a car,
because it’s rude to scream curse words back at them, and they’d just laugh anyway.
We’re taught to pin on smiles for the boys who jeer at us on the street
who see us as convenient bodies instead of people.

Girls are taught: hush, be hairless and small and soft,
so we sit there and take it and hold in the howling,
pretend to be obedient lapdogs instead of the wolves we are.
We pin pretty little sharp smiles on our faces instead of opening our mouths,
because if we do we get accused of silly women emotions
blowing everything out of proportion with our PMS, we get
condescending pet names and not-so-discreet eyerolls.

Once, I got told I punched like a girl.
I told him, Good. I hope my pretty little sharp rings leave scars.

"
'My Perfume Doubles As Mace,' theappleppielifestyle. (via queenofeden)

(Source: theappleppielifestyle, via odins-one-eyed-fuck)

bogleech:

gameraboy:

"A Sticky Situation" (1960) by Carl Barks

I like how advertising is literally still exactly as sexist as they’re joking about in this comic from 54 years ago.

(via odins-one-eyed-fuck)

+