VIVIAN the MAGNIFICENT!

swimming blissfully in a sea of bold-faced narcissism, comfortable delusion, hedonistic excess and vindictive estrogen since 1993!

sunnyspiralgodess:

heterophobicgoat:

stupidandreckless:

NOOOO NO NO NONO FUCK FUCK  FUCKIG CBS IS TELLING WOMEN NOT TO REPORT SEXUAL HARASSMENT BECAUSE IT WILL “DAMAGE THEIR CAREERS” and “HARASSMENT IS AN UNFORTUNATE PART OF CLIMBING THE LADDER” I AM SO ANGRY THEY ARE LITERALLY TURNING SEXUAL HARASSMENT INTO A NORM THIS IS NOT OKAY

This is an actual article and I’m still having a hard time believing it’s real.

Whatthefuckingfackiamgonnajumpoffafuckincliffnow

(via cherrylolina)

mermaids-and-witches:

daddyhole:

i hate people who take posts like “black ladies are beautiful” and say “YOU MEAN EVERYONE IS BEAUTIFUL”

its like showing up to a little celebratory function for an unappreciated tech crew of a movie and going “DONT U THINK THE ACTORS ARE IMPORTANT TOO???”

son the actors already have the red carpet and four billion dollars sit down

image


Forest lying beneath the waters of Lake Traful, Argentina. These trees used to stand on the hillside of Bayo Hill, or Alto Mahuida, when in the 1960’s a landslide ripped them from their location with rocks and all and they landed on the bottom of the lake. 

Forest lying beneath the waters of Lake Traful, ArgentinaThese trees used to stand on the hillside of Bayo Hill, or Alto Mahuida, when in the 1960’s a landslide ripped them from their location with rocks and all and they landed on the bottom of the lake. 

(Source: malformalady, via shadow-of-the-wildwood)

I don’t trust in the better nature of people: I don’t have that luxury. My father abandoned my mother and I, just as the father of my child did when he left me for some white Tennessee cheerleader with a big rack. My grandfather was carted into this country and forced into labor, where he died before he could even be granted citizenship or meet his grandchildren. My grandmother was a Malaysian political refugee who spent a good deal of her first year in America interred at Angel Island and spent much of her youth far more oppressed than she ever was in Asia. My mother raised three girls without a man in her life, and she did so with the aid of a loving mother, a job she worked hard for and a college education that she earned. Now, I am attempting to do the same. I am twenty-one and raising this child - I’m living clean, I’ve stopped partying, and I’m working hard for that nursing degree, and all I can see are the judgmental faces on the street, their steely gazes directed onward to the little Puerto Rican girl with the single mom-complex. When you top that off and decide to tell me that I’m just ‘in a phase’ about my sexual preference, this is when the levee breaks. I was sexually abused - extensively, I might add - as a little girl by a close family friend. I got married fresh out of high school and made the mistake of confusing love with pain and fear. For years, I struggled with having my own sexual identity: I knew my sexual attractions, and I knew that while they did show aesthetic preferences, they did not fit along the structure of normalized gender binaries. And for years, I felt like a freak for it: the straight girls thought I was a slut and the lesbians thought I was a phony. When I wanted to talk about it with a guy, I was ‘obviously’ doing it for attention.

My life is simple now: I work, I go to school, I play with my boy and I take care of my family, the way they take care of me. I was blessed enough to be the baby with two beautiful sisters who would want nothing but the best for me in life and turn out to be the best friends I could ever ask for in the whole wide world. I had the romance, and now I just want the quiet. But when you tell me that who I am isn’t an issue to the world anymore, all that noise comes rushing right back. Who I am should not be an issue, but it is - and I know it.

Talk to me. If you have a problem, or if you don’t - mistrust for the human condition aside, I love people. I also loves flowers and nature and pretty shit - but don’t act like those feelgood vibes are all it’s going to take to change the way the world views somebody like me. Telling people to feel good and just forget about it promotes a state of denial. And if you want to be problematic, fine: but don’t fucking deny it. Don’t trivialize it. My grandfather worked for sixty years and died without a penny to his name. My mother got by by passing for a white woman for thirty years.