@1 day ago with 3 notes
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#postcard #collage 

albaenia:

onlyblackgirl:

Indigenous People’s Day Photo Project 2013

"Dear Columbus…"

Photo Credit: Andrew Burlingham

South Puget Sound Community College’s Diversity & Equity Center

Olympia, WA 

Love this concept

(via notyourexrotic)

@1 week ago with 100903 notes
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@1 week ago with 3 notes
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#postcard #collage 
teenagesuccubus:

Exactly
@2 weeks ago with 7708 notes
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whether it’s halloween or not, I already am a monster

@2 weeks ago with 1 note
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@6 days ago with 1 note
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(Source: rhyse, via meghantopus)

@1 week ago with 28550 notes
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jumpingjacktrash:

roachpatrol:

bogusjake:

you know what i want?? a representation of the seven deadly sins where for once lust isnt the only woman and is instead a horny friendzone dudebro

holy shit

YES

@2 weeks ago with 71599 notes
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the first time I came out to anyone was to my best friend from grade school

I was in second grade when I met A. Her family had just moved to the area and she was put in my class. We didn’t talk right away, me because I’m shy and her because she was dealing with the stress of moving and starting at a new school, but we shortly became friends, united by our love of reading. We would swap books back and forth constantly, occasionally getting into trouble with library books that were out past their due dates. She lived about a mile from me in student housing with her parents and two sisters, and I would go over there and sleep over, stay up too late watching movies, make pancakes in the morning, and we would always talk about what we were reading. I loaned her Laura Ingalls Wilder and she put me onto The Diary of Anne Frank, which I read partly because my mom said wasn’t allowed to. Fiction was more of a constant with me tending more toward science fiction and her more toward horror, the two of us overlapping heavily in fantasy though each reading whatever the other passed on. We didn’t always agree on things, of course - she read and loved all of the Anne of Green Gables books where I got bored after the first one while I loved all kinds of trashy science fiction that she was less excited about. We wrote stories together and made art, she a gifted writer even in grade school and me always up for a creative project. We walked around and explored the neighborhood, avoided mean kids, and read her older sister’s diary. We fought occasionally but always made up and went back to trading books and talking about what we were reading, other worlds and ideas percolating wildly in our heads. She had slightly better social skills, more awareness of the world, and a more functional family than mine and knowing her helped me be more grounded, less lost in my thoughts, more aware of other people’s perspectives. She was a good friend to me and probably the first good friend that I had.

After sixth grade I went to junior high at another open school and her parents sent her to private school. We lost touch for a bit and then encountered each other one day when she was out running and I was walking somewhere. We started talking again and then went to our respective houses to loan each other more books and our friendship resumed as though without interruption.

The next summer I realized that I was a lesbian. After a few months of introspection while I tried to figure out how to handle myself when I had only fictional role models, I decided to tell her. We had both been reading books with gay and lesbian characters going on about their normal business in space or the post-apocalypse or slaying dragons and she’d never seemed to have any issues about it but I was still unsure how to say it, the first time the words had ever passed my lips where anyone else could hear me. I thought she would be receptive because of the history of our friendship and because she was generally an empathetic person and while I didn’t expect or even necessarily want her to say that she was lesbian too, she wasn’t obsessed with boys and didn’t use “gay” as a causal insult the way that so many people our age did.

So I called her and stammered it out one evening in late October or early November, pushing through my fear to tell my truth to someone who had always been a good friend to me and who I had no reason not to trust.

I had to get it out. I had to stop dying in the silence.

She got off the phone with me quickly, obviously uncomfortable.

I thought it would pass and we would go back to trading books, but she’s never spoken to me again. We are both the same people we were before I came out and I have no regrets about telling her though I am sad even still to have lost her friendship. I had thought I knew her and I’m certain that she thought she knew me. Apparently that didn’t mean what either of us thought it did.

@2 weeks ago with 4 notes
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#coming out #National Coming Out Day 
@2 weeks ago
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#postcard #collage