the stuff I'm made off

Sarah, an artist from ireland and multiple dog mama. Healing in progress.

[macaulaykulkin]

But I’m a Cheerleader (1999) - Dir. Jamie Babbit 

[clawsandbackb0ne]

Been chilling with dogs and a boy these past 5 months. Feel like I’m home.

[clawsandbackb0ne]

Been over a year with the same guy. Jack loves him, as do I. I'm down the rabbit hole and not sure I want back up

[rowshark]

[crystallineknowledge]

Fleetwood Mac || US Festival, 1982

[cineasc]

But I’m a Cheerleader (1999) Jamie Babbit

[clawsandbackb0ne]

I'm back!

[theotreptos]

“ELEKTRA: I ask this one thing: let me go mad in my own way.”

— Sophocles, Elektra, trans. by Anne Carson from An Oresteia

[dushku]

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER → season one

What was I supposed to do? Say to Owen, “Sorry I was late. I was sitting in a cemetery with the librarian waiting for a vampire to rise so I could prevent an evil prophecy from coming to pass”?

[clawsandbackb0ne]

I'm back!

[plasticblisss]

Angelina Jolie and Jonny Lee Miller

[gluten-free-pussy]

My Uber driver is blasting Dancing Queen and the whole car smells like weed

[susiethemoderator]

5 Stars

[itchycoil]

I want a shirt that says I Got Scammed by Sex Positivity

[edgarhwrght]

“I wish that you liked me.”

Lady Bird (2017) dir. Greta Gerwig

[galacticpasta]

im curious so reblog with how y'all greet your pets when they enter the room. for example, i say “hey bud!!” for my cat and “how’s my baby???” for my dog

[clawsandbackb0ne]

I always say "hi, wee man" to my gigantic golden. And "hey, little bitch" to my snobby cat

[elizabyss333]

In 2008 @saturninefilms and I did a photo shoot in the tiny laundromat in the tiny town where we grew up. A year later we did it again. A decade later we did it again. Age 21. Age 22. Age 31. You can see us slowly growing into our own and getting more confident. 

[clawsandbackb0ne]

Love this so much

[kibblesandbitch]

Here’s something to chew on.

[coldasaslab]

about me.jpg

[whistlenotes]

honestly

[poesieplease-deactivated2020061]

In case you wanna read the article this quote is from: http://rolereboot.org/culture-and-politics/details/2016-05-daughter-know-ok-angry/

[cygnaut]

Adaptable girls find socially acceptable ways to internalize or channel their discomfort and ire, sometimes at great personal cost. Passive aggressive behavior, anxiety, and depression are common effects. Sarcasm, apathy, and meanness have all been linked to suppressed rage. Troublesome behaviors, such as lying, skipping school, bullying other people, even being socially awkward are often signs that a teenager is dealing with anger that they are unable to name as anger.

Girls, taught to ignore their anger, become disassociated from themselves.

Anger is so successfully sublimated that girls lose the ability to understand what it feels and looks like. Is her heart racing? Does she feel flushed or shaky? Does she clench her jaws at night? Is she breaking out in hives? Does she cry for no reason? Laugh inappropriately during difficult conversations? Fly off the handle over something that seems inconsequential? You can see where I’m going here…those crazy girl hormones, right? Better to just think of it as a phase.

For too many women, however, the phase never ends. It’s lives spent never expressing anger at all and believing that they don’t have the right or ability to do so without great risk.

[gimmeur-tots]

Ok this is important. I feel like this all the time.

[daftqunk]

I really feel this. A conversation I had with my psychologist last year after I described what I thought was an anxious reaction to somehow who’d hurt me calling me randomly after over a year. My heart was racing and I was shaking and felt hot all over and was on the verge of tears, and she said. “That sounds like anger. You’re allowed to be angry.” And I became very aware that I had not been able to identify my own anger and even know what it feels like up until that point.

[undercovertacobell]

“Cold men destroy women,” my mother wrote me years later. “They woo them with something personable that they bring out for show, something annexed to their souls like a fake greenhouse, lead you in, and you think you see life and vitality and sun and greenness, and then when you love them, they lead you out into their real soul, a drafty, cavernous, empty ballroom, inexorably arched and vaulted and mocking you with its echoes—you hear all you have sacrificed, all you have given, landing with a loud clunk. They lock the greenhouse and you are as tiny as a figure in an architect’s drawing, a faceless splotch, a blur of stick limbs abandoned in some voluminous desert of stone.”

— Lorrie Moore, Self-Help (via road-twitch)