E

[eztelle]

And how do I enjoy the greatest today knowing that I might lose it all next week if not tomorrow?

I don’t know why I have this sentence on my search history, but this resonates.

[eztelle]

Male Gaze

I find the possible fact that we are actually trapped in the male gaze dreadful.

I’ve read and heard stories from women who say that they used to feel embarrassed and wrong when they touched themselves or when they got aroused watching soft porn. I don’t know a man who does.

When a woman spends so much time together with her girl best friend, men would start making up story about them being in a relationship, a story good enough to fulfill their fantasies.

My friends and I use the word “slutting” for whenever we want or plan to dress up and wear something nice for ourselves. Some of the fits are actually not that revealing, still modest in my dictionary.

We feel guilty even for feeling good about ourselves to the extent we start putting male’s label on ourselves.

[fluffycakesistainted]

“Love says that when Joe murders someone, he considers it a noble act, but when she murders someone, he treats her like she’s crazy. And listen, she’s got a bit of a point. Joe’s as much an impulse killer as Love, but his reaction to her falls along the same stereotypical gender lines that say men are angry while women are irrational.”

— Sara Netzley, You season 3 binge recap (Entertainment Weekly)

[eztelle]

"I'll get older, but your lovers stay my age."

"So rumour has it that he dates the youngs because they're easier to manipulate. Do you date me just so you can manipulate me?" "I think it's more possible for you to manipulate me instead."

"🙃🙃🙃"

[eztelle]

"Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it's all a male fantasy: that you're strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren't catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you're unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur."

- Margaret Atwood, The Robber Bride

[eztelle]

“Someone to eat ice cream with and watch television or walk home from the mall with…”

[eztelle]

"Let's live in the present. Not in the past, nor the future."

And how do I enjoy the greatest today knowing that I might lose it all next week if not tomorrow?

How do I live like the happiest on earth for a day and die the next day?

[eztelle]

And the heart skipped a beat. Again. And again.

Sadly, it’s not for the badump reason.

Now I’m in fear and pain and I’ve got nowhere I can think of to run to.

Should I run to the darkness? Should I sink deeper to the rocky pool of tears? Or to the meadow of needle bush should I jump? I don’t know, it’s getting chaotic here.

Anywhere would be fine as long as it keeps me safe from the affliction of losing.

[hyacxntha]

what's your type?

the ones who'd care enough to wanna fuck me but not enough to wish me a happy birthday

[eztelle]

Eyes twinkling,

lips smiling,

face flushing,

heart racing.

[eztelle]

Cause I'm in a field of dandelions, wishing on every one that you'll be mine.

[eztelle]

The Brightest Star...

Twinkling, pretty, tiny, and far.

[eztelle]

Realisation

I always thought that I knew love so well.

I watch, I read, I observe love for as long as I can remember.

Some would even call me “A hopeless romantic”.

I put my pride on love. Because I think I did it best.

But he made me realise, that I wasn’t entirely right.

What I knew was only to love, not to be loved.

Love is a beautiful thing, it is more than just to love or to be loved. 

It’s not that simple. To know the real form of love, you need to know both how to love and to be loved.

I may think that I’m so good on loving someone, but I was so clueless when I first learned how to be loved. 

So clueless I believe it confused him as well.

As time goes by, I get used to be loved by him, and so the more I know how to love.

The more I know about love.