1. amberisntacrayon:

    I was at the mall today and overheard this dude talking to two lesbian chicks. I hear him ask, “So which one of you is the guy in your relationship?” And the one girl looks into her pants and says, “It’s not me. How bout you? Are you hiding a dick in there?” Then her girlfriend looks in her pants and says, “Nope, I’m not.” Then the first chick looks at the dude and says, “Hmmm, guess that’s why we are lesbians.” And then I lost my shit.

    (via artof-selfdestruction)

  2. draconiswormwood:

    Describes me perfectly.

    (Source: matheamoller, via artof-selfdestruction)

    • parents:   you need to go out more
    • parents:   you need to exercise more
    • parents:   YOU'RE GOING OUT FOR A WALK??? YOU?????
    • parents:   HAHAHA WHAT'S GOTTEN INTO YOU???
    • parents:   why are you getting angry
  3. (via crashinggg)

  4. "

    A FAT LITTLE GIRL
    is eight years old, she’s got pink cheeks that her grandmother calls chubby. She wants a second cookie but her aunt says “you’ll get huge if you keep eating.” She wants a dress and the woman in the changing room says “she’ll probably need a large in that.” She wants to have dessert and her waiter says “After all that dinner you just had? You must be really hungry!” and her parents laugh.

    A FAT LITTLE GIRL
    is eleven and she is picked second-to-last in gym class. She watches a cartoon and sees that everyone who is annoying is drawn with a big wide body, all sweaty and panting. At night she dreams she is swelling like the ocean over seabeds. When she wakes up, she skips school.

    A FAT LITTLE GIRL
    is thirteen and her friends are stick-thin ballerinas with valleys between their hipbones. She is instead developing the wide curves of her mother. She says she is thick but her friends argue that she’s “muscular” and for some reason this hurts worse than just admitting that she jiggles when she walks and she’ll never be a dancer. Eating seconds of anything feels like she’s breaking some unspoken rule. The word “indulgent” starts to go along with “food.”

    A FAT LITTLE GIRL
    is fourteen and she has stopped drinking soda and juice because they bloat you. She always takes the stairs. She fidgets when she has to sit still. Whenever she goes out for ice cream, she leaves half at the bottom - but someone else always leaves more and she feels like she’s falling. She pretends to like salad more than she does. She feels eyes burrowing through her body while she eats lunch. Kate Moss tells her nothing tastes as good as skinny feels, but she just feels like she is wilting.

    A FAT LITTLE GIRL
    is fifteen the first time her father says “you’re getting gaunt.” She rolls her eyes. She eats one meal a day but thinks she stays the same size. Every time she picks up a brownie she thinks of the people she sees on t.v. and every time she has cake, she thinks of the one million magazine articles on restricting calories. She used to have no idea a flat stomach was supposed to be beautiful until she saw advice on how to achieve it. She cuts back on everything. She controls. They tell her she’s getting too thin but she doesn’t believe it.

    A FAT LITTLE GIRL
    is sixteen and tearing herself into shreds in order for a thigh gap big enough to hush the screams in her head. She doesn’t “indulge,” ever. She can’t go out with friends, they expect her to eat. She damns her sweet tooth directly to hell. It’s coffee for breakfast and tea for lunch and if there’s dance that evening, two cups of water and then maybe an apple. She lies all the time until she thinks the words will rot her teeth. She dreams about food when she sleeps. Her aunt begs her to eat anything, even just a small cookie. They say, “One bite won’t make you fat, will it, darling?”

    A FAT LITTLE GIRL
    is seventeen and too sick to go to prom because she can’t stand up for very long. She thinks she wouldn’t look good in a dress anyway. Her nails are blue and not because they are painted. Her hair is too thin to do anything with. She’s tired all the time and always distracted. She once absently mentions the caloric value of grapes to the boy she is with and he looks at her like she’s gone insane and in that moment she realizes most people don’t have numbers constantly scrolling in their heads. She swallows hard and tries to figure out where it all went wrong, why more than a granola bar for a meal makes her feel sick, why she tastes disease and courts with death. She misses sleep. She misses being able to dream. She misses being herself instead of just being empty.

    A FAT LITTLE GIRL
    is twenty and writes poetry and is a healthy weight and still fights down the voices every single day. She puts food in her mouth and sometimes cries about it but more and more often feels good, feels balanced. Her cheeks are pink and they are chubby and soft and no longer growing slight fur. Her hair is long and it is beautiful. She still picks herself apart in the mirror, but she’s starting to get better about it. She wears the dress she likes even if it only fits her in a large and she doesn’t feel like a failure for it. She is falling in love with the fat on her hips.

    She is eating out with friends and not worrying about finding the lowest calorie item on the menu when she hears a mother tell her four year old daughter “You can’t have ice cream, we just had dinner.
    You don’t want to end up as a fat little girl.”

    "

    Why do we constantly do this to our children? /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)

    (via deadprefection)

  5. uglysoulsbeautifulbodies:

    DO NOT DISMISS A SOMETHING A CHILD IS PROUD OF. LOOK AT IT. POINT SOMETHING OUT AND TELL THEM YOU LOVE IT. IF A CHILD DRAWS YOU A RAINBOW, TELL THEM YOU LOVE HOW IT HAS RED. THEY WILL THINK “WOW. IT DOES HAVE RED. THEY LOVE HOW I PUT RED IN IT. I PUT RED IN IT. AND THEY NOTICED.” MAKE SURE YOUR CHILD KNOWS YOU ARE PROUD OF THEM.

    (via sempiternal-thoughts-in-my-head)

  6. "I hope you meet someone who wants to experience you and not just see you by their eyes. Someone who doesn’t only want to have sex with you but moves their fingers over your body like trying to find a city on a world map and mark their favourite destinations. Someone who wants to experience you like a masterpiece. whenever we observe a masterpiece we get the urge to touch it and most of the time we do, involuntarily, because it’s so perfect that we not only want to see it with our eyes and forget it’s details later on because I read somewhere that every time you recall a memory your brain edits it bit by bit so we long to experience it so that each part which contributes to it’s perfection stays with us afterall how scary it would be to forget how perfect you felt. So I hope someone experiences you like a summer breeze stroking your hair, like the warmth of bonfire on a chilly winter night, like the taste of that traditional homemade dish by a mother for her children who’s taste forever lingers in their mouth. I hope you find someone who justifies in treating you like the perfect art you are."

    The most beautiful submission ever sent to me from - sadgirlslikebadboys (via thejamesboyle)

    (via thejamesboyle)

  7. sadstagram:

    looking for a boy taller than 5’8 who will take me to parties and punch other boys for me 

    (via dandeli0n-burdock)

    (Source: fuckyeahfrozenolaf)

    (Source: fuckyeahfrozenolaf)

    (Source: fuckyeahfrozenolaf)

    (Source: fuckyeahfrozenolaf)

  8. (via fngering)

  9. timeywimeyhobbit:

    tfios-changed-my-life:

    "Augustus is soooo pretentious!!!"

    Ohmygod, no way?? It’s almost as if that’s exactly what John Green intended.

    "Augustus Waters talked so much that he’d interrupt you at his own funeral. And he was pretentious: Sweet Jesus Christ, that kid never took a piss without pondering the abundant metaphorical resonances of human waste production."

    (via iridescent-dust)