Faded_Trinkets

We Never Hurt ourselves Alone

Sat, 18 May 2013 12:10:30 +0300

We never hurt ourselves alone. I didn’t or wouldn’t believe this for many years. I’m me, I’m mine, right? Actually yes that’s true with one slight exception. We also belong to everyone who cares about or heaven forbid, may actually even love us. Whatever our rationalization may be, no matter how convincing the argument, each and every time we snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, they lose with us. Next time you’re planning to hurt yourself or say effit I quit, I’m going to get high or cut or whatever, picture your mother, your children, or anyone who loves you being right there with you. Whatever you do to hurt yourself harms each of them at least as much. We never hurt ourselves alone, and come to think of it, don’t we deserve better anyway? Don’t they? Take care of you, take care of the ones who love you, the ones you love. Yes it really is that simple, and just in case no one’s told you yet today they love you, let me be the first.

I love you, and today at least, I love me,
Mike, <3

burtoo:

Sat, 18 May 2013 10:07:19 +0300

burtoo:

Photo

Sat, 18 May 2013 07:16:20 +0300

Photo

Fri, 17 May 2013 21:20:03 +0300

heddykase1: This is you. This is where all your thoughts are...

Fri, 17 May 2013 21:19:14 +0300

heddykase1:

This is you. This is where all your thoughts are kept. Every other part of your body is used to protect and sustain this.

"Nostalgia is the art of abandoning details."

Fri, 17 May 2013 21:18:13 +0300

“Nostalgia is the art of abandoning details.”

- Amy Shock (via quotecatalog)

Photo

Fri, 17 May 2013 20:51:53 +0300

Lonesome Tequila.

Thu, 16 May 2013 21:16:00 +0300

Lonesome Tequila.

"They hang around, hitting on your friends or else you never hear from them again. They call when..."

Thu, 16 May 2013 20:53:25 +0300

“

They hang around, hitting on your friends
or else you never hear from them again.
They call when they’re drunk, or finally get sober,

they’re passing through town and want dinner,
they take your hand across the table, kiss you
when you come back from the bathroom.

They were your loves, your victims,
your good dogs or bad boys, and they’re over
you now. One writes a book in which a woman

who sounds suspiciously like you
is the first to be sadistically dismembered
by a serial killer. They’re getting married

and want you to be the first to know,
or they’ve been fired and need a loan,
their new girlfriend hates you,

they say they don’t miss you but show up
in your dreams, calling to you from the shoe boxes
where they’re buried in rows in your basement.

Some nights you find one floating into bed with you,
propped on an elbow, giving you a look
of fascination, a look that says I can’t believe

I’ve found you. It’s the same way
your current boyfriend gazed at you last night,
before he pulled the plug on the tiny white lights

above the bed, and moved against you in the dark
broken occasionally by the faint restless arcs
of headlights from the freeway’s passing trucks,

the big rigs that travel and travel,
hauling their loads between cities, warehouses,
following the familiar routes of their loneliness.

”

- Kim Addonizio, “Ex-Boyfriends”

I’m terrified of this idea that I’m the prototypical “ex-boyfriend” who’s a girl…man!

(via lorrainekinnear92)

see dem green lipzz?

Thu, 16 May 2013 20:23:00 +0300

see dem green lipzz?

popca: SANTIGOLD - GIRLS [OFFICIAL VIDEO]

Thu, 16 May 2013 03:38:19 +0300

popca:

SANTIGOLD - GIRLS [OFFICIAL VIDEO]

williamjturner: MRI scan of a human subject from the cranium to...

Wed, 15 May 2013 22:38:57 +0300

williamjturner:

MRI scan of a human subject from the cranium to the feet.

gradientlair: christel-thoughts: Kelly Rowland…wow TW:...

Wed, 15 May 2013 19:14:04 +0300

gradientlair:

christel-thoughts:

Kelly Rowland…wow

TW: Domestic Violence

This is one of those where the subject matter is much more powerful AND important than the vocal performance. She doesn’t wow with runs or church singing, but raw honesty.

This is an incredibly powerful and honest song. In fact, it felt like she was reading me the story of her life. I immediately started to think of a lot of Black women’s literature over the last century that involves how domestic violence not only physically and emotionally harms the woman who is the victim or survivor, but long before the man starts hitting, he is already isolating the woman and destroying her friendships. This turns the situation in his favor so that she will already feel emotionally abandoned by the time the relationship is physically violent.

I felt so many things while listening to her. It’s important that she revealed that people know NOTHING about the industry or their lives. The idea that beauty or money will protect a woman from domestic violence is a myth. It might change the resources available after the fact, but it doesn’t protect against blows nor does it change what she was feeling inside when it occurred. Her story sounds like Black women’s stories I know in every class category. Painful but important listen.

"I’m like that. Either I forget right away or I never forget."

Wed, 15 May 2013 19:10:18 +0300

“I’m like that. Either I forget right away or I never forget.”

- Samuel Beckett; “Waiting for Godot” (via wanduring)

housewifeswag: amen.

Wed, 15 May 2013 19:07:09 +0300

housewifeswag:

amen.

scarred-but-smarter: jessie-prostitutewench: beben-eleben: The...

Wed, 15 May 2013 15:15:49 +0300

scarred-but-smarter:

jessie-prostitutewench:

beben-eleben:

There once was a young boy with a very bad temper. The boy’s father wanted to teach him a lesson, so he gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper he must hammer a nail into their wooden fence.

On the first day of this lesson, the little boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. He was really mad!

Over the course of the next few weeks, the little boy began to control his temper, so the number of nails that were hammered into the fence dramatically decreased.

It wasn’t long before the little boy discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.

Then, the day finally came when the little boy didn’t lose his temper even once, and he became so proud of himself, he couldn’t wait to tell his father.

Pleased, his father suggested that he now pull out one nail for each day that he could hold his temper.

Several weeks went by and the day finally came when the young boy was able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.

Very gently, the father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence.

“You have done very well, my son,” he smiled, “but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same.”

The little boy listened carefully as his father continued to speak.

“When you say things in anger, they leave permanent scars just like these. And no matter how many times you say you’re sorry, the wounds will still be there.”

iluvsouthernafrica: Botswana: 1950 Photos of the people of...

Wed, 15 May 2013 15:10:03 +0300

iluvsouthernafrica:

Botswana: 1950

Photos of the people of (then) Bechuanaland including Sir Seretse Khama and his wife, Ruth (parents of the current president of Botswana, Ian Khama), by Margaret Bourke-White

blackdicedaprince35: For The Girlfriends

Wed, 15 May 2013 15:08:47 +0300

blackdicedaprince35:

For The Girlfriends

USHER “CLIMAX” (COVER) - @RUDY_CURRENCE FEAT...

Tue, 14 May 2013 13:47:39 +0300

USHER “CLIMAX” (COVER) - @RUDY_CURRENCE FEAT @MATHAIMUSIC (by RUDY CURRENCE)

I should have left the house hours ago.

Tue, 14 May 2013 13:01:42 +0300

I should have left the house hours ago.