Seeing All These Sadistic M*ther F*ckers Get Theirs, Cleansed My Soul, Watered My Garden And Cleared

me in the theatre during this scene

Earth 42 Miles Morales could ruin my life, and I would thank him

Dios mio ayudame 🥵 

Eugene wasn't in this TryPod, because he would air out everyone involved in the cheating. As he should.

The woman you are becoming will cost you people, relationships, spaces, and material things. Choose her over everything.

The House on Mango Street was the first book that put what I wanted when I grew up into words. I hyperfixated on the shoes especially. They symbolize Esperanza's sexuality, and then her inner conflict between that sexuality and her desire for independence. I had similar struggles, particularly when I was 15. Quinces are a huge event in a Cuban girls life. Everyone in the extended family comes to ogle at the garish decorations while talking smack about the girl's dress and body in between bites of ropa vieja and croquetas. At the end, they exchange the little girl shoes she has for a high heel. Symbolizing her "ascension" into womanhood. This terrified me. I was still growing into my body. My feet still clumsy and my hands too small to hold onto to the ridiculous bouffant skirt of the dress which would inevitably lead me to trip even more in front of judging relatives. More than anything, I wasn't ready to be a woman, even symbolically. The questions of when I would get married, have children, would increase in their seriousness as they did for my first cousin. Under this pressure, she then had her baby at 17 with a man who constantly cheats on her to this day. They will tell me to go to university so I can find an educated man. Not to worry about about an education from myself. That I already study/read too much and men don't want overly smart women. This was the picture I had of "becoming a woman" since I transitioned from baby to child shoes. I told everyone the Christmas before my Quince in September that I would not be having one. The adults laughed and my cousins jeered at me at the kids table thinking I was loca and "antisocial". My mother, told me it would be my choice, but that the family would like to join me in this joyous occasion. I was shaking beneath their eyes, but again I said I did not want one. As September drew closer, the questions for when the invites were going out started to grow numerous. I again told them I would not be doing a quince. My aunt cried and called me selfish. That she never had a daughter, only sons, and she wanted to help me plan it. For the first time in my 15 years, I refused to give in. No amount of crocodile tears would get me to budge. I'm glad I did. It was the first step in MY path to becoming a woman. No high heels needed. Now, I keep my heelless "child shoes" near my bed in my own apartment where I live alone with my dog. Comfortable and free.

YOU decide what it means to be woman. Do not let anyone and their outdated traditions tell you what to do.

“The best you’ll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.” – Janet Fitch

On a Peaky blinder kick, anything to block out reality

Good morning to everyone except this bitch

and all of the fuckers on Majalis. Except Elder Gamal and that one guard with the broken coin I hope all if you fall into the rivers of lava and lakes of acid with your bitch asses.

“In front of my mother and my sister, I pretend love is cheap and vulgar. I act like it’s a sin–I pretend that love is for women on a dark path. But at night I dream of a love so heavy it makes my spine throb. I dream up a lover who makes love like he is separating salt from water.”

― Salma Deera

Ostara Altar ‘23

This year’s Ostara altar