feminist-transition:

repeat after me friends: 

  • vaginas are self-cleaning
  • there is no such thing as a dirty vagina
  • unless you have an infection 
  • in which case  your vagina still isn’t dirty but you should really go see a doctor 
  • but yeah
  • vaginas aren’t “clean” or “dirty” they’re self-cleaning acidic muscular tracts 
  • so fuck off

(via phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess)

castielcampbell:

tonyabbot:

scary-monsters-and-davesprite:

lonelyinsomniac:

samsaranmusing:

image

Orbital path of asteroid near miss in 2002. Yah, that’s how close we came to nuclear winter and possible total destruction.

A visitor.

It’s like it’s trying so hard to hit us and it just can’t do it

the moon was close enough to brofist

(via phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess)

vaguelyjewish:

testoster0ne:

how do woman not orgasm when inserting tampons.

like isn’t just like having sex idgi?

This sounds like a Mitt Romney diary entry.

(Source: basedyeeezus, via dutchster)

,,

When he screamed in my face and pushed me against his car that night, he told me I was worthless but I was the one to say sorry. Over and over again, I was sorry. When he left me standing in the parking lot by my house I could do nothing but hate myself for making him leave me. When I was a little girl it was a mistake of trusting a man that I barely knew, just because he was my own blood. His evil eyes made his way up my dress along with his hands, and ever since then I don’t think I could lose my virginity without crying into the man I love’s chest. When I tell someone how I’m feeling inside, I always let the word, sorry slip out when I’m finished. I feel like I am dumping my emotion onto their chest and suffocating them like it suffocates me. Then they end up getting upset with me, because I offend them when I apologize. At fifteen a boy kissed me like he loved me, and the next day he never called me back or answered my texts. I couldn’t help but think maybe I fucked it up somehow, maybe when I talked about heaven and dying it turned him off. Maybe he just didn’t want to deal with it. He didn’t want to deal with me. The last text I sent him was, “sorry.” When my mother is angry she tends to raise her voice and say things “she doesn’t mean.” I can’t help but believe her when she calls me crazy, and I can’t help but think that maybe my dad drinks so much because he hates his life. I can’t help but think maybe it’s because of me, do I ask for too much? Is it because I’m always sad? Am I not good enough, what did I do? The love of my life is the most amazing man in the world yet when his voice gets quiet on the phone I can’t help but question if he’s okay because I always feel like I’m doing something wrong. I always ask over and over, if he loves me because I need the reassurance that I’m not some crazy bitch. When my friend texts me and I don’t respond for a few hours I am afraid she will think it’s because I don’t care but in reality it’s because I can’t think of anything to talk about when my mind is filled with this negativity about myself. I just always feel like I am doing wrong. I am wrong, I am damaged, by other people’s mistakes, I take credit for. That’s what I do wrong..

i.c. // I need to stop being sorry (via delicatepoetry)