I made the following post a while ago…
“A Woman’s Heart Should Be So Hidden in Christ That a Man Should Have to Seek Him First to Find Her”
If a man is in Christ trying to find me, we have a serious issue on our hands.
…and people have decided to reblog and edit it to just say “A Woman’s Heart Should Be So Hidden in Christ That a Man Should Have to Seek Him First to Find Her” and have completely removed the rest of it.
I’m more than happy to see my things reblogged, but please don’t change around what I’ve said to suit you. Make your own fucking post if you like the line so much. Because I don’t like that religious spittle being traced back to me when I originally mocked it.
I think sometimes, there will always be that one person that just gets under your skin and will remain there forever.
You will never be able to shake off that funny feeling you get in your tummy when they call you first, when they come knocking on your door, when they’re across the table looking at you after not having seen them for weeks, or months.
“Friends” is just a disguise. You will never be just whatever it is you say you are. Because what you would do for them is lightyears away from what you would do for everyone else you love.
The part that’s the hardest though is loving them enough they make you whole rather than loving them so much they bring you down; tendrils look beautiful, but when they coil around too much they stop flowers from growing.
But friend or lover, or something in between, I’ll never let you go.
please consider this. just because you liked to draw when you were little doesn’t mean you should become a tattoo artist. not everyone can do it. getting into the tattoo business isn’t fucking someone to become an apprentice. it’s not about looking pretty. i don’t walk around in heels and clown make up because i believe i have some sort of talent. i don’t want my clients to get tattooed by me because they want to fuck me. i want them to get tattooed by me because they respect my work. oh, you saw kat von d on tv and wanted to be just like her? cool story, bro. kat is a great artist and everything, but why not take a fucking minute to check out some other real female tattoo artists? valerie vargas is the jam, so is eva huber. female tattoo artists who dedicate themselves to their work and don’t care about developing a make up line, or what they wear to the teen choice awards. i’m all for there being a lot more girls in my line of work, but please fucking respect yourself. if you take more time to put on your fake eyelashes than you do to put a tattoo on someone, it’s time to reconsider your fucking profession. get out of mine.
lol soz I didn’t know there were restrictions to when a person could care about their own aesthetics and when they couldn’t.
I thought it was one of those things that
a woman any person could do regardless of their career.
Looking good has nothing to do with wanting other people to fuck you. That’s a very close minded view of the world, not to mention the industry you work in.
I was just on my daily scroll through 9GAG and I came across this. Now usually I find his stuff hilarious, and upon reading this I expected something awesome and humorous, but no. No no no no no!
To begin with, a whore does not have a uniform. Nor do whores exist. It’s 2012 babes. I think we’re well into the 21st century to cut it out with the slut shaming. Whoever still participates in this hideous act should check themselves.
Everyone should stop jumping the gun on their perception of what another person is like. Some people say I look approachable, and others say they wouldn’t have talked to me unless I had talked to them first. Point is, a person is nothing until you get to know them.
And the comparison to a cop? Fair enough you make a mistake by treating a person like someone they’re not based on a case of mistaken identity or some costume they were wearing, but you cannot define a regular person walking down the street by their outfit, nor should you justify your criticism by saying “oh they may not be a trash bag, but they sure do look like one.” The difference between these two examples is that one is a costume, another is something hanging in a person wardrobe that they like - why must you put a label on everything because it’s easier for you to identify someone as something?
This is a poorly construed argument; he said something totally agreeable in the beginning, and then just backtracked on all logic at an attempt to make a witty joke. It’s like that “no offence but…” line. Yeah, no offence but I’m about to offend you.
Poor effort Dave Chappelle, poor effort.
The thing about religion:
I’ve been meaning to make this post for a while, because I’ve had messages saying “I’m unfollowing you because you think my beliefs are a joke.”
And it’s not that. True I don’t take religion, particularly Abrahamic religions, seriously, but that’s not to say I think it’s a joke. The only religion I hold in a somewhat higher regard is Buddhism, and that’s because I see it more as a philosophy rather than a faith.
I get that some people need something to believe in. I don’t entirely understand why it has to be the belief in some man in the sky, but each to their own.
My main issue in religion is what my extended family has shown me. Besides stating the obvious - the hatred towards someone shoving their beliefs down your throat - it’s this idea held that you need religion to be a good person. My restraint from stabbing someone, killing someone, or even something as simple as not lying to someone is not because the Bible tells me not to. It’s because I know that those things are wrong without the reminder.
I don’t need to be told how to conduct myself or how to live my life.
I once said something as a joke in the heat of the moment, and my uncle said “you shouldn’t do that, you’ll go to hell.” Well gee, I know not to do certain things. But it’s not because I fear an eternity with Satan, it’s because that’s the right thing to do, regardless of what God, or Jesus or Mary or whoever have said.
To all those people who have never said anything against my own beliefs, this is not directed towards you. But I think a friendly reminder that I don’t need to be attacked for my own faith is in order.
You don’t know trust until you can tell a person the most fucked up shit about your psyche, about all the immoral things that you participate in, and about the unorthodox things that you desire, and know it’s not going to be used against you later on.
I don’t know how you got it in your head that I stopped caring the day you left, but I want you to know you’re wrong.
Because no matter what you do or say, your happiness is always in the forefront of my mind.
And maybe I became a stray thought, just some bump in the road to your love story, you haven’t left me yet though.
I hope I still cross your mind, every once in a while.
This what I think when I’m angry with the world.
I love having company, but everyone once in a while I just need to be left alone for a while. I need to be by myself and be okay without someone being there with me to help me with my shit. ‘Cause let’s face it, in the end you’re in it alone. Sure some people care, but it’s every man for himself.
So you know what? All the above things are the perfect way to spend time alone. You don’t need anyone there for any of those things. And when you realize you can be by yourself, you find less of a reason to rely on anyone else.
(Source: saramlyons, via barbiehair-deactivated20120709)
As a Melbourne baby, it’s very odd that I be saying this, but give me summer again. I’m used to the winter. Living in Melbourne is like living in London; cold, dreary, grey, and this is the majority of the year. But these past few days I’ve just wished for the sun to come out again.
I want to be up early with the sun as it rises.I want to go all the way to St.Kilda just for ice cream and a walk along the esplanade. I want fruity cocktails on the balcony at Cookie, with drags from my Marlboros and laughs with my friends. I want to go for crazy joy rides in the middle of the week when we have nothing left to do. I want to feel like I’ve been out forever because it’s 9pm and the sun is still shining. I want 7-11 slurpees and vodka, and pizza parties and video games while the air con is blaring. I want kisses in the evening as the sun sets and the crickets wake up. And then I want to go to bed naked and do it all over again the next day.
Summer loving, had me a blast…