[purishevam]

sometimes life can be cruel only to pour the gentleless love into the burnt, tarnished parts - slowly, after an exhaustive fight, you rise; knees buckling, eyes red and dry from tears; stomach full of angst and fear, and with a half-smile, say: "my time is not up." So you straighten your back, pull your shoulders down, and walk onward with a fiery so hot, anything in close vicinity scats.

[callioclops]

We need to start remixing phrases. Slot in a word with a similar meaning for a different effect. "Throwing in the towelette" for when you weren't trying all that hard to begin with.

[purishevam]

ya'll, childhood trauma fucks with so much in adulthood.

[wholeheartedsuggestions]

practice forgiving yourself as often as possible. it does wonders once you really learn to move past things you dislike about your past actions that cannot be redone.

[thepeacefulgarden]

Remember: Beating yourself up doesn't help whoever you wronged, and it doesn't help *you*.

[duncebento]

[purishevam]

Hello, everybody — not sure if this will reach many but if you happen upon my post, I created a go-fund-me for a dear friend who lost her job due to Covid, and could use some financial help. So far, the fundraiser has reached $201. my goal is $1,000 because of monthly bills, like food and rent. The link is below — much thanks!

https://www.gofundme.com/f/helpsupportrhiannon?sharetype=teams&member=6187860&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_source=customer&utm_campaign=p_na+share-sheet&rcid=a0a81d9254e04aff8f91e2827cc9ce8c

Help support Rhiannon, organized by Marina Barry

Hi, everyone! Amidst this pandemic, many are feeling the weight of financial instability, includin… Marina Barry needs your support for Hel

[purishevam]

i lit a match,

in hopes the heat would eclipse,

taking me back,

to summer days,

laying side-by-side with you.

[purishevam]

a hairline fracture,

throbs then worsens —

like a heart,

its recent combustion —

the pain,

insurmountable —

grief,

a thunderous storm,

now a quiet lull,

a process,

a lesson —

onward we must go.

[purishevam]

the archives are being reopened —

the dust that collected, now a shapeless wisp of nothingness:

history floods through,

moments,

experiences,

encounters —

an array of disillusionments,

of sensational angst:

a brain’s messy default.

[ke-ray92-deactivated20201217]

Before January ends, I’m going to magically and extremely be blessed by the universe.

[introvertbard]

not gonna risk scrolling past this

[curvestrology-deactivated202202]

⭐️

[warrentrash]

PSA

You know what bothers me the most about how little coverage the Australian fires are getting?

I could mention that 18 people are now dead, several are missing and over 1000 homes are lost. All at the start of a new year. +3 million hectares of land is gone. People feel a little bit of empathy, maybe they'll reblog this or give it a like, but they'll give it no second thought.

But if I were to make a post just solely about the fact that 500 million animals have been killed in these fires, including 30% of all koalas meaning they're close to being functionally extinct, people would share the fuck out of it. They would start GoFundMe pages, they would guilt people into reblogging shit with the classic, "if you don't reblog this you don't have a heart." You know that trope yeah?

You all fucking shoved posts about the Amazon fires down our throats. "Oh but they were deliberately lit on Native land." You don't think we understand that? Do you know that is exactly what's happened here? As a woman of Aboriginal descent, do you get how upsetting it is for me to watch my country burn? To watch my friends houses burn to the grown whilst they're left to flee to the beach in hope's of not being burnt? Do you know how upsetting it is to think that the house that I grew up in probably won't be standing in a couple days? All because the RFS are not allowed to backburn because of politics. Politics who don't understand a single fuck about anything that is happening.

Every night I have to try my hardest not to break down in front of my family because I am so upset and so angry about this whole situation. Men and women are out there fighting this fire, missing out on time with their family, time at work meaning they can't afford to feed their family either, they miss out on holidays too.

My brother was sent on a strike team up to Sydney for Christmas. He almost didn't make it back for New Years, even when he got home, he was so tired to go out so him and I stayed at home and played the PS4. And what makes me angry is that some families out there don't see their brothers come home, their sons, their fathers, their sisters, mothers, daughters.

Because people are dying.

And no one other than Australians give a single fuck!

Canberra currently ranks at number 8 for worst air quality in the world right now. The elderly in nursing homes are being evacuated and have nowhere to go. People were jumping in lakes, were swimming out into the ocean to get away from the fire as it started to burn the beach.

And what does our Prime Minister do?

He arrives at fire impacted towns, in a nice and expensive 100k BMW, to give his thoughts and prayers. Not aid, not water and food, not money. But thoughts and prayers.

"I'm sure he's just tired."

"No, no. He lost a house."

"Oh."

How more insensitive can the fucker get? This isn't a Prime Minister. This is a disgrace. May I also mention we are in our worst drought yet but "we" just sold 409 million dollars worth of drinking water overseas.

I am begging all of you by this point. Please, help out our victims of fire and drought. Donate to whatever causes you can, search the internet, I'm sure there are plenty out there. Donate packs of water, toiletries, food that doesn't spoil, socks, sleeping bags, anything.

Every small gesture you do makes a big impact on somebody who lost everything.

[takecare-bewell]

if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say ‘food’ labeling some good, some bad as i assign moral value to this grain of rice i might say ‘numbers’ counting, measuring, tracking calories, sizes, BMIs allthetimecalculating everysinglething if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say ‘beauty’ complete devotion, idolization of the western standard begging for others’ envy i might say ‘attention’ desperately needing someone anyone, to notice me at all to see that i am unwell, to care if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say ‘control’ the sick, sick result of discipline gone sour a curdling obsession i might say ‘guilt’ over being too big too plain too comfortable too needy too me if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say ‘anger’ hating the injustice of living hating everything, everyone including myself i might say ‘pain’ a way to transpose the scars of my soul onto the body aching for congruence if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say ‘minimalism’ my mind whirls like a run-on sentence and i can’t stand being wasteful so no thank you i don’t need anything at all really i might say ‘self-righteousness’ i’m parading the streets, declaring my holier-than-thouness because hey look! i’m better at dying than you if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say ‘expectations’ i’ve been naturally small my entire life and now, but now i lose myself when i grow i might say 'childhood’ reverting to my prepubescent body no breasts and when sex was just a word muddled with giggles if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say 'addiction’ a habit that can’t be kicked craving the buzz, the high of manipulating my insides i might say 'death’ i’m not that happy anyway so why not drive my body to the edge, tempting it to quit? if you asked me what my eating disorder is about i might say nothing because i do not know it’s not like it matters because you don’t ask because you don’t know either

—i don’t know, you don’t know, no one knows // 01.22.18

[quite-likely-valentine]

I know there’s a lot of tension after Tumblr’s new policy annouced for December 17th, but reblog this if you aren’t leaving Tumblr so that other blogs can know they aren’t going to be completely alone!

[purishevam]

A gentle reminder to prioritize yourself today. Yes, you are allowed to put yourself first. Yes, you are allowed to nurture yourself. Yes, you are allowed to set firm, healthy boundaries. Yes, you are allowed to speak your truth. Yes, you are allowed to reach out for support.

Marina Purisheva

[kontrazvedka-deactivated2019031]

Borders are violence.

[roadkillrabbitt-deactivated2019]

His name’s Frank Gonzalez and information on where this all went down can be found here: www.washingtonpost.com/amphtml/news/post-nation/wp/2018/07/28/immigrant-girl-hides-in-auto-shop-after-escaping-attendants-from-florida-detention-facility/

[judo-ichidai-deactivated2018121]

Please reblog this important information.

[cannabiscomrade]

The name of his store is Gonzalez Auto Center, and google/Facebook reviews are always a great way to show how we feel about people like him.

[purishevam]

This angers me. I don’t know. So many mixed emotions.

[lifeinpoetry]

“A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort.”

— Gillian Flynn, from Sharp Objects

[purishevam]

Dear, Younger Self:

Dear younger self,

Two decades have passed. I am twenty-one, almost twenty-two. When I severed ties with you, Dear one, the ambiguity of loss had obstructed my airway. Oxygen was sparse, and panic devoured basic problem-solving from my stream of consciousness. Like a flower in mid-October, I succumbed to the cold with no intent of blossoming in the spring. The ground in which I stood, sunk under the weight of my feet, laying me to rest with Earth beneath a surface glazed by disillusionment.

You, small and frightened, cried in hopes those tears would be reciprocated. You stood, body pressed against a crib that contained you, on toes, eager to be held. But like the other kids in close proximity, your needs were deemed unimportant. And so, through negligence, you learned to let go of expectation. You learned to suppress all that bubbled to the surface, regardless of its magnitude and discomfort. You learned to be expressionless.

Your beliefs, as you aged, became a truth you depended on, even if its roots were seeded into the grounds of the forbidden forest. The vacancy of your stare kept the sweetest of hearts at a distance. Some would try to climb the walls you built, their efforts collapsing under the self-inflicted pressure to save the innocence of your soul.

As your higher self, Dear one, I feel a responsibility to make amends for my absence . I fled faster than a cheetah darting across the African terrain. Moreover, I did so without getting to know you. For that, and the multitude of other actions I took, am terribly sorry. I know I mustn’t dwell. The guilt, however, is aggressive.

That aside, if you allow me to, I would like to sit down and chat — no set topic, just you and I, conversing about whatever the mind conjures up. Upon this request, I promise to leave behind judgment and ridicule. Both serve no purpose.

You, Dear one, deserve to be embraced by arms that have known and felt safety, known and felt unconditional love, and have basked in all its glory. You, Dear one, deserve to be seen by eyes that have cried an abundance of tears only to rise with the sun. You, Dear one, deserve to be respected by one who struggled themselves to find their voice. You, Dear one, deserve a chance to heal — these words are truth, and they speak to all I would like to be and provide for you.

Please consider.

Fondly,

Your higher self