Unfriendly reminder that in America it’s reasonable to say an unarmed black kid deserved to be shot six times because he might have robbed a convenience store, but a white kid shouldn’t be kicked off the high school football team just because he violently raped a girl.
Someday I’ll be an instructor and I’ll have my own little classroom and my own little desk with white roses in coffee beans.
And someday I’ll have a clean house with an actual, live houseplant in it.
And I’ll have a book with my name on the spine sitting on the shelf in my own little office. But it will just be there like a framed photo is, so I can look at it sometimes and smile.
It’ll be next to my marathon medals sitting haphazardly on the shelf.
Big dreams. Tumblr time management.
What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person.
—John Green, Paper Towns (via kushandwizdom)
I miss the days when my sisters and I would just max oreos like potheads and watch Netflix and talk about life, but mostly I miss the days when I was completely unaware of how completely fucking pointless all of this is.
But I didn’t want to take a selfie and put it on instagram or make a status on Facebook so every family member can know…
I’m training for a half marathon. This is a big deal for me. I have always been a runner at heart but life comes up, especially when anxiety and depression are involved.
Anyway, I was stressing majorly about turning 25 and I decided that instead of spending it bored and drunk like the last four birthdays I’ve had, I registered for a half marathon that fatefully is exactly on my birthday.
Now, I’m training, but part of training is cross training. Cross training days, I have taken to a cycling class that happens to be taught by an ex marine turned triathlete.
I have a calf strain and runners knee from those classes, and I’m really upset because the only reason I took them was because I thought they would make me a better runner.
The past week I have had Such a psychological battle with myself. Instead of adhering to the training program, i have been on the couch, iced up from ankle to knee, inhaling vitamins and fish oil and protein powder and anything else I can get my hands on.
Today, i couldn’t take it anymore. I ran. It wasn’t for very long, more like block long spurts between walking, but I did it. And I’m happier than I have been in a week. They say to listen to your body, and despite my whining knees, my legs were screaming at me to run. So I did. I feel alive.
I just wanted to tell anyone about it. Are there any runners on tumblr? Can anyone relate?
"My response to the “I am not a feminist” internet phenomenon….
First of all, it’s clear you don’t know what feminism is. But I’m not going to explain it to you. You can google it. To quote an old friend, “I’m not the feminist babysitter.”
But here is what I think you should know.
You’re insulting every woman who was forcibly restrained in a jail cell with a feeding tube down her throat for your right to vote, less than 100 years ago.
You’re degrading every woman who has accessed a rape crisis center, which wouldn’t exist without the feminist movement.
You’re undermining every woman who fought to make marital rape a crime (it was legal until 1993).
You’re spitting on the legacy of every woman who fought for women to be allowed to own property (1848). For the abolition of slavery and the rise of the labor union. For the right to divorce. For women to be allowed to have access to birth control (Comstock laws). For middle and upper class women to be allowed to work outside the home (poor women have always worked outside the home). To make domestic violence a crime in the US (It is very much legal in many parts of the world). To make workplace sexual harassment a crime.
In short, you know not what you speak of. You reap the rewards of these women’s sacrifices every day of your life. When you grin with your cutsey sign about how you’re not a feminist, you ignorantly spit on the sacred struggle of the past 200 years. You bite the hand that has fed you freedom, safety, and a voice.
In short, kiss my ass, you ignorant little jerks.”