"What if all women were bigger and stronger than you? And thought they were smarter? What if women were the ones who started wars? What if too many of your friends had been raped by women wielding giant dildos and no K-Y Jelly? What if the state trooper who pulled you over on the New Jersey Turnpike was a woman and carried a gun? What if the ability to menstruate was the prerequisite for most high-paying jobs? What if your attractiveness to women depended on the size of your penis? What if every time women saw you they’d hoot and make jerking motions with their hands? What if women were always making jokes about how ugly penises are and how bad sperm tastes? What if you had to explain what’s wrong with your car to big sweaty women with greasy hands who stared at your crotch in a garage where you are surrounded by posters of naked men with hard-ons? What if men’s magazines featured cover photos of 14-year-old boys with socks tucked into the front of their jeans and articles like: “How to tell if your wife is unfaithful” or “What your doctor won’t tell you about your prostate” or “The truth about impotence”? What if the doctor who examined your prostate was a woman and called you “Honey”? What if you had to inhale your boss’ stale cigar breath as she insisted that sleeping with her was part of the job? What if you couldn’t get away because the company dress code required you wear shoes designed to keep you from running? And what if after all that women still wanted you to love them?"
For The Men Who Still Don’t Get It, Carol Diehl (via ohtheherondales)
"Who taught me to suck in my stomach,
or my cheeks?
Who told me to stand with my legs apart
and my hips thrust back
to create the illusion of a gap
between my thighs?
Who made me believe that the most beautiful part of me
is my negative space?"
"Do not fall in love with people like me.
I will take you to
museums, and parks, and monuments,
and kiss you in every beautiful
place, so that you can
never go back to them
without tasting me
like blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most
beautiful way possible.
And when I leave
you will finally understand,
why storms are named after people."
Katrina, M.K., & Unknown (via psych-facts)
"Aku senang berpikir bahwa dari semua makhluk Tuhan, yang paling disukai Sang Pencipta adalah mereka yang berhasil memerdekakan diri. Bukankah seorang ayah senang melihat anak-anak lelakinya tumbuh dari bayi menjadi lelaki dewasa, bahkan andai cakar-cakar muda mereka sedikit melukainya sekalipun? Dan mengapa Tuhan tidak menjadi ayah yang murah hati seperti para ayah pada umumnya?"
Balthasar’s Odyssey - Amin Maalouf
Another Wasted Rita’s honest letter I like the most.
It was a cold Sunday when I took my usual train. Light rain was still pouring —so silently, you’d think it was just a vague whiz of the wind you hallucinated. I was reading a story of a young woman who, at her 25, accidentally abandoned in a wheel in one amusement park at Switzerland; and through her binocular, saw herself in her apartment room across the street who was making love to a man she turned down several times before —when I saw another young woman caught in common peculiarity, right across me. We both stayed in several awkward seconds when our eyes met: this young woman was weeping.
I tried to stare at another point inside the train, but I can’t hold myself to not catch a peek at her watery eyes. She was sobbing quietly from one stop to another. As I started to wonder why a person could just weeping in a public place, I began to wonder why people just seem to not matter, or in short, not to notice her crying. On the other hand, I had come to the part of the book where the young woman eventually lost half of herself after her bizarre wheel accident. Perhaps, that day, I was just reminded that every each of us were keeping personal grieve for us to personally live with.
I leaned as I tried to just read my book, but such strange gloom seemed to restrain my breath. I was trembling within that abrupt and eerie atmosphere. What could make a people dropped into such perpetual wail, I asked myself. It might be a family passed on, a beloved one got an fatal accident, a person got into a critical circumstance, or any heartbreaking relationship my book’s characters had…… And something inside me tried to recall any memory of me could not hold tears in public transport. But I couldn’t find one. Or I just refused to retrieve any of it.
I tried to get back to my book, but I couldn’t. That strange grieve seemed to stay in a grasp. I had that strange feeling, turning into a fear, of losing. But I never prefer to possess any of moment I enjoy, I told myself, but the grieve stayed. When that weeping young woman disappeared at one station, it seemed to stay for ever.
I was trying to recall any good memory I have while taking a good trip by train, when a sudden thought came to my mind. A sudden heartache: that we both actually never fall in love to each other; we just love to make love with each other…. Which basically should be fine —but yet, replaceable. I thought I heard a vague weep inside me… or a misheard whoopee.
"Apa gunanya aku meneliti alam semesta ini jika aku tak mampu melihat apa yang ada di bawah hidungku? Betapa sialnya dibuat dari lempung yang rapuh!"
Balthasar’s Odyssey - Amin Maalouf
"People are uncomfortable with sexuality that is not made for male consumption."
Erykah Badu (via thesluthunt)
yang paling buruk dari orang-orang yang merasakan, mengalami, mengetahui, dan memahami banyak hal adalah mereka yang tak menuliskannya. dan yang paling buruk dari orang-orang yang merasakan, mengalami, mengetahui, dan memahami banyak hal adalah mereka yang menuliskannya dan menganggap bahwa setiap orang harus membaca, mempercayai, dan menyetujui apa yang ditulisnya.
‘Cause people seem to only post the 20-something Audrey Hepburn.
Audrey Hepburn was the granddaughter of a baron, the daughter of a nazi sympathizer, spent her teens doing ballet to secretly raise money for the dutch resistance against the nazis, and spent her post-film career as a goodwill ambassador of UNICEF, winning the presidential medal of freedom for her efforts.
…and history remembers her as pretty.
AND HISTORY REMEMBERS HER AS PRETTY
this is the first time I have ever seen a picture of her older than 20 and I think that’s scary