"Maybe I couldn’t make it. Maybe I don’t have a pretty smile, good teeth, nice tits, long legs, a cheeky arse, a sexy voice. Maybe I don’t know how to handle men and increase my market value, so that the rewards due to the feminine will accrue to me. Then again, maybe I’m sick of the masquerade. I’m sick of pretending eternal youth. I’m sick of belying my own intelligence, my own will, my own sex. I’m sick of peering at the world through false eyelashes, so everything I see is mixed with a shadow of bought hairs; I’m sick of weighting my head with a dead mane, unable to move my neck freely, terrified of rain, of wind, of dancing too vigorously in case I sweat into my lacquered curls. I’m sick of the Powder Room. I’m sick of pretending that some fatuous male’s self-important pronouncements are the objects of my undivided attention, I’m sick of going to films and plays when someone else wants to, and sick of having no opinions of my own about either. I’m sick of being a transvestite. I refuse to be a female impersonator. I am a woman, not a castrate."
-The female eunuch, Germaine Greer x (via ilovemonstaaa)I’m reading The Female Eunuch by Germaine Greer, and it’s a very interesting read so far. I can’t say I agree with everything she says, but her frank opinions are refreshing. You can tell this is a woman that won’t take shit from anyone.
It’s sad how many problems still haven’t been solved, even though Greer was calling them out in the Seventies.
I completely agree with this post!!!
never NOT reblogging this. When people say this, they’re implying that a mans natural state is ‘rapist’ - that when they see a woman, they must CONTROL themselves so they don’t rape them - as if they have no control over themselves because they’re some sort of sexual beast.
YOU GO GIRL!
this is beautiful. c’:
yes!!
(Source: s-o-c-i-e-t-y)
“If a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?”
lol yes, so then i can shave.
Has anyone written a book about this yet? I think it’d be interesting!!!!!!
One minute, 37 seconds.
My legs are shaking. Holy cow, there is no way I can do this. None.
One minute, 29 secods.
I glance around at the faces surrounding the room. Of course my Meeting would take place in the gross, overcrowded cafeteria.
One minute, six seconds.
Somewhere within these four walls, someone has the exact same countdown on their wrist. They’re going through the exact same pressure as me.
54 seconds.
Mom said I should be excited, not nervous. Yet I still find myself wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. I can’t believe she talked me into wearing a dress. I mean, shouldn’t my Soul Mate meet me as I normally am? All plain jeans, blah shirts, and wild brown curls?
30 seconds.
Something deep within me tells me to stand up. I do, drawing the attention of my tablemates. They all know too. They smile encouragingly up at me. I chew my lip nervously.
25 seconds.
That same feeling pulls me towards the center of the room. My stomach drops away from me as I take a step in that direction.
20 seconds.
I continue in that direction. With each step the tempo of my heart picks up.
19. Faster.
18. Quicker.
17. More rapid.
16. It’s racing.
Oh my god this is it. The moment my life changes forever.
My eyes search frantically around the cafeteria, searching for someone who looks as nervous as me. For someone who’s heading towards their future with no sense of direction like me.
10 seconds.
The feeling directs me slightly to the left. I turn to accomodate.
5. My heart has given up entirely.
4. I stop walking.
3. Just waiting left.
2. Everything is about to change.
1. Deep breath.0000 d 00 h 00 m 00 s
Someone bumps my shoulder. I twirl around and my gray eyes meet blue, blue ones.
“Hello there, love. It appears as though we’re Soul Mates then, eh?”
As my words fail me, the only thing I can think is “I’m so glad I shaved this morning.”^^^ THIS IS AMAZING
(Source: illness-and-instruments)
Elizabeth Olsen and Daniel Radcliffe - Kill Your Darlings promotional shoot
Holly Shit they’re perfect!!!!
(Source: the-doberman)
“never again”
This image is one of the most powerful pro-choice images I’ve ever seen. When I saw it in the newspaper I immediately cut it out and hung it on my wall.
This is not my image. I’m using it with permission from Arthur Newspaper.
The sad part is a lot of people don’t even understand what the hanger represents. Awful.
(Source: anditemporary)
Halloumi. Cheese of the gods.
Give me all the Halloumi!!!
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