humans are so cute, when we say goodbye we put our arms around each other and to show we love someone we bring them flowers. we say hello by holding each other’s hand, and sometimes tiny little dewdrops form in our eyes. for pleasure we listen to arrangements of sounds, press our lips together, smoke dried leaves, get drunk off of old fruit. we’re all just little animals, falling in love and having breakfast beneath billions of stars :~)
"Do you know how hard it is to find a black girl with hair like yours?
The question was provocative: not only was I disappointing my parents, but shaving my mane apparently meant failing an entire culture. It was my first peek into the supposition that my hair does not belong to me but, rather, is part of some trenchant responsibility - a birthright, if you will - and deeply engaged in identity politics whether or not the body/mind attached to it desires such.”
https://www.tumblr.com/dmca Go there, and do as the instructions say. When my art was stolen, I got the post reported, and it was taken down. Don’t worry, it doesn’t just take down the sources post, but it takes down all the reblogged posts too. Please give this a reblog, many artists out there may not know this is here. And remember, ask permission before sharing, or don’t post it.
“No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.”—Nelson Mandela, 1918-2013 (via portugalpirate)
the nurse inserts the cannula, i say ‘thank you for not hurting me’.
my mate thinks i can’t accept help. over the phone she says ‘you won’t let anyone take care of you, you want to do all the caring, that’s not fair’.
sheila comes over to my apartment, we eat Vietnamese food. i look tired, my body aches, she wants to give me a massage. when her hands touch the back of my neck i think of my mother, i don’t know why. she rubs my shoulders and i cry a bit. a small part of me thinks i don’t deserve it, is ashamed of needing anything from anyone outside of myself. the loudest voice inside my head says ‘take the love, why won’t you take the love?’