it feels like im dying @imlaaghingimcrying-blog - Tumblr Blog

i don’t mean to be political, but what if everyone had basic human rights

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Black men vs black women

Earlier tonight I showed my boyfriend some post about how black women were jealous of thick white women. It went much more in depth but I really can’t explain it all. Ultimately it came down to him laughing at the comments made and taking the side of the black men that have made posts and articles about why white women are better than black women and how ugly black women are. I myself am a black women. Women in my family are black women. My friends are black women. And I thought, is that truly how you feel? You hate my complexion and the complexion of my sisters so much that you’d degrade them, that you make us compete for respect? I was shocked. He was laughing at something I stood for, for something I was. That’s humiliating. That makes me feel ugly. That makes me feel disgusting. That makes me feel like the man I love the most doesn’t respect what I am and will not defend what I am. That hurts me the most out of anything. Black men, you are destroying black women, really all women, with this language and you are spreading both internal and external racism. No women should be insecure about her skin color of all things. It’s something that’s beautiful regardless of color and something we cannot control. So why the fuck would you degrade someone for it? And even though, it might not affect you, it damn sure affects all beautiful girls of color and maybe even women without color. Especially those of your family and friends. Please understand that this racism is larger than you having a sexual preference but it can be degrading. Having a sexual preference is fine. But when you’re dating a black woman and you agree and laugh at a post about how black women have humiliating names and no manners or respect, you are devastating your loved ones. It’s not funny or humorous. It’s not a joke or any random post to make me angry. It’s racist, hurtful and atrocious. So please don’t expect any love or pity for your racist views and disgusting comments.

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Why is this not everywhere?

blossomfully

I was on the edge, always. I was laughing - much louder and more frequently than anybody else. I burnt out quickly, so that sometimes, halfway through a coffee date, I would have to excuse myself. I didn’t love. My love wasn’t real. My love was a facade to prove that I could love, or that I could be loved in return. I chewed whilst giggling whilst wishing I was somewhere else. I was waiting and impatient. I felt like my happiness was so fragile even the pin prick of a needle would shatter it. My life was a series of earthquakes but my senses were not concrete; they were glass. My heart was not strong, except from when it was angry - so I was angry often; often I was furious. I was standing on the edge of a great precipice and I wondered if I had the courage to jump. Sometimes, I wanted to feel the sea dissolve my bones. I was laughing, much louder and more frequently than anybody else. Often, I wondered if I had any reason to.

S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #272 (via blossomfully)

Holy shit