“How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 8:30 a.m. by an alarm clock, leap out of bed, dress, force-feed, shit, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so?” (Charles Bukowski, via)
Don’t let yourself feel worthless: often through life you will really be at your worst when you seem to think best of yourself; and don’t worry about losing your “personality,” as you persist in calling it: at fifteen you had the radiance of early morning, at twenty you will begin to have the melancholy brilliance of the moon, and when you are my age you will give out, as I do, the genial golden warmth of 4 p.m.
—F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise (via thoughtsdetained)
your ex looks adorable, and has a new girlfriend
someone tries and starts a poke war
reading some ones fight
1 new message from your crush
somebody posts something rude aimed you
mohammed akajamalarmaladee adds you
looking through some skanks thousands of selfies
reading some bitches song lyric status
people post ”gettinggg drunkk”
groups filling up my newsfeed
move onto TUMBLR
You Don’t Have to Be Pretty. You don’t owe prettiness to anyone. Not to your boyfriend/spouse/partner, not to your co-workers, especially not to random men on the street. You don’t owe it to your mother, you don’t owe it to your children, you don’t owe it to civilisation in general. Prettiness is not a rent you pay for occupying a space marked “female”.
Erin, “A Dress a Day”
This is an interesting concept, that women feel obligated to be pretty. Not for themselves, and not out of pleasure, but because they owe it to the other people they interact with in the world. Just because they identify as female. Thank you, society, we’re more fucked up than ever. And my “rent” is overdue.