Not today Justin
Game of Thrones Daily
Origami Around
One Nice Bug Per Day
izzy's playlists!
Sade Olutola
Misplaced Lens Cap
Show & Tell
pixel skylines
šŖ¼
will byers stan first human second
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
blake kathryn
Product Placement
shark vs the universe
No title available
Love Begins
#extradirty
if i look back, i am lost
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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@searchingforhumanity-blog
One man's hunger for power has cost hundreds of thousands their lives. Even the survivors are forever scarred, like this sweet girl. That's why we can't stay silent, that's why we can't close our eyes, that's why we have to fight.
One of those "fuck the world" days when you wish a word stronger than "hate" existed to describe how you feel about everyone and everything.
He's just not as great as you thought he was
Today, I was complaining to my cousin about a guy I liked who did something inconsiderate. She said "well, I guess that just shows you that he's not as great as you thought he was." It's amazing. All this time, whenever a guy did something that hurt or bothered me, I'd always think "what's wrong with me that he doesn't want to do better for me" when really, the question should have been "what's wrong with him that he acts this way?" This one's a game changer for sure!
Sigh, I miss him
At the 2015 VIBE XX dance competition, Cookies blew the entire audience away with their moving performance. They were awarded 1st place, and after watching, it's clear to see why.
"Earth and water, air and fire, the worm digs deeper and the robin flies higher, we're all part of one family, the sun and the earth and you and me" Still relevant...
I am not angry
Last night Hezbollah threw some shots at Israel for something or another that they were pissed about, and in doing so, they put the land of my blood in danger once again.
But I am not angry.
Today Israel contemplates a retaliation similar to itās onslaught in Gaza, which, in Liebermanās words, must be āforceful and disproportionate.ā
But I am not angry.
I learnt a long time ago that my anger as an Arab women is never seen as justified and always unwelcome. When I've expressed anger in the past at the injustices we've faced I was told that I was being irrational or extreme and making people uncomfortable. Because, as an Arab, I'm not allowed to be angry without being prone to violence or acts of terror, I'm not allowed to condemn Israel's actions without being seen as a terrorist-sympathizer.
So, I learnt not to be angry. I learnt to hide the wild beating of my heart when my people are called "collateral damage", and to laugh when someone said something that made me want to cry. I learnt to respond to peoples' ignorance and double standards with calm, reasoned arguments, or ignore them completely, even as I felt my face burning with rage.
Iām not angry when I see the blood of my people flowing like streams in the streets of Gaza.
Iām not angry when I see little girls crying in my mother tongue that all their earthy possessions have been destroyed. The jewelry box her father bought her for her birthday, the doll she played with each day and the teddy bear she slept with each night.
Iām not angry when I listen to mothers in the refugee camps talking about how smart their children are, about how her son could be an engineer or a doctor if they could afford an education for him. Instead he sells vegetables at one of the ten vegetable stands in the streets of Sabra so the family can get by.
None of this makes me angry.
Just like I wasn't angry the last time Hezbollah taunted the tiger, and the tiger responded by bombing our airport and burning the fuel supply so that we were basically landlocked.
Just like I wasn't angry when I couldn't sleep for over a month as I listened to the bombs rain down on my country every night until 4 in the morning. I would hold on to my cousin and imagine how we would survive if a bomb hit our house. Would we be safer under the bed? If they bombed our kitchen, would the damage reach our bedroom? If we were killed by the explosion, would our bodies be dismembered but still recognizable, or would we be turned to dust? Would my diary be found and returned to my mother or would there be no trace of us left behind?
But I wasn't angry.
Just like I wasn't angry when I would open up the paper in the morning to find pictures of half burned corpses with looks of unimaginable suffering permanently etched onto their faces.
Just like I wasn't angry when my little cousins held on tight to us as we tried to watch Batman and distract them from the fact the house was shaking more violently than usual and the glass windows were about to shatter. Even as they looked at us with wide, innocent eyes hoping for reassurance that we would be okay, reassurance that we couldn't give because we were young too and also terrified. But, I wasn't angry.
I wasn't angry that we had to evacuate my country on a boat to Cyprus and, in that moment, I had some inkling of what it must feel like to be a refugee. Only, I was with family, and we were going somewhere we already knew, back to our other home in Canada.
I wasn't angry when we finally landed in Montreal and I watched some salesperson talk down one of the evacueesĀ because her English was less than fluent,Ā a woman who was actually a refugee now, and had just arrived in a strange land with her two small children clinging to her dress.
I wasn't angry that none of my Canadian friends could really comprehend what I had experienced; they couldn't understand the pain of watching your country be destroyed. I even lost some of them because, apparently, believing that itās a war crime to bomb and kill innocent civilians put me on the wrong side of the war.
Iām not angry that even now, 9 years later, my heart still races every time I hear the sound of fireworks and I feel a panic wash over me. My first instinct still tells me āitās a bomb.ā
Hezbollah has once again poked the giant, and my land is once again in danger of being destroyed. If Israel responds as it did the last time, some little girls will lose their toys, some sons will lose their mothers. Some homes will be turned to rubble along with their inhabitants, others will be left standing, though shaken. But everyone will be scarred, just like I was. Just like I am.
But I am not angry. I'm not allowed to be.
What Would You Do? television show, showcases the contrast in responses to young white male criminals vs black criminals. Not only did people call the cops 10 times more to report the black vandals, but even sleeping black teenage boys were perceived to be more inherently threatening than the white teenagers who were actively vandalizing a car nearby. [Part One] [Part Two.]Ā
Everyone should be crying
How dare they come to our backyard = how dare they not stay segregated.
Iām fucking appalled. Seriously?
Heroes.
i put jergens natural glow on one part of my arm to see what would happen and now i regret it
Wow she really needs to shave her legs
im a fucking man #whyineedfeminism
I just need whatever u put on your armā¦ I donāt tan at allā¦ Ever.
i literally said what it was
this post is such a fucking mess
Is no one going to talk about the perfect rectanglular shape this thing makes on her arm
i literally said i was a man already why is this still happening
This entire post is a testament to the attention span of Tumblr users.
LMAO! Can't stop laughing ššš
On and on, does anybody know what we are living for...
Moulin Rouge
We're all just a little bit ugly
Vulnerability isn't the opposite of strength, it's a necessary part. We have to force ourselves to open up, to expose ourselves, to offer up everything we have, and just pray that it's good enough. Otherwise, we'll never succeed.
Grey's Anatomy
Nice Guys Don't Finish Last
Over the weekend, I got the typical "nice guys finish last" guilt trip from my male friend who got upset when I rejected his advances. I can't put into words how few fucks I give when guys pull this shit: First of all, get over yourself. Not every girl wants to date you, not every guy wants to date me. That's life, grow up. Second of all, in what world does being a "nice guy" entail trying to make your friend feel bad for not reciprocating romantic feelings? If you're not getting the girls you want, trust me when I say it is NOT because you're such a nice guy, but it might be because you fake being a "friend" in hopes that it will get you some action.
War does not determine who is right, only who is left.
Swear to god, some guys are terrified that girls are faking common interests to impress them and act really hostile towards anyone they even SUSPECT of doing such a thing
but then they turn around and fake a whole friendship in the hopes of getting sex out of girls, and get mad at them when it doesnāt work
and they super do not see the irony in that
Thank you! This is bullshit and one of the worst betrayals when it comes to friends. I have no sympathy for guys that act like they want to be your friend then get mad when you āfriendzoneā them. Nice guys do not finish last, youāre just not a nice guy!
Yes!
