Uwodu @uwodu - Tumblr Blog

animalsnaps

he’s in 2032.

badgyal-k-deactivated20190901

Smart

amortizing

Nothing ever happens like you imagine it will.

John Green, Paper Towns (via amortizing)

The worst feeling is when someone is pushing away from you but won't be forward about why or just tell you they don't want you anymore. And you can feel it in your gut that something is wrong. But you don't want to say anything lest you prematurely ruin something that's already falling apart.

#sofuckingsad

gif-tv

teenscoolest

If you want to efficiently love an empath, please please PLEASE oh please do not forget that all the love, patience, understanding, sympathy, and generosity they give out truly empties them eventually. All of that emotional, physical, and mental energy NEEDS to be replaced for them to function. Please do not only take from them. It destroys them to try to give when they have nothing left, though they will try.

k0asts

Irish Sea | N.Ireland Taken by me

uwodu

So gorgeous

annmariexrose

Single and ready to get nervous around anyone I find attractive.

abandonedloveseries

Fuck you if you make fun of girls for crying. Sorry not sorry I'm so full of emotions and feelings (most likely because of something you've done) and you think my reaction is obnoxious. Crying=caring. It's the ultimate level of every emotion for me. Past yelling. Past ignoring. Past eye rolling. If I'm crying you've got me in a place where I am completely vulnerable and frustrated that I can't properly articulate what's wrong. You've got me at capacity. So before you make fun of me for overreacting, maybe don't be a fucking idiot in the first place.

skinnyfitrussian

inkskinned

a secret code between women: are you safe? in a contact of eyes. i’m here if you need me, the littlest shift of a skirt, of an inclined head, of watching the man who is asking you to smile, bitch. you aren’t alone on the walls of restrooms, i was where you are too. the quiet doling of emergency numbers, the shelters. the space between two women in a largely empty train station. the waiting game of two women strangers who walk, quietly and quickly, to their cars in abandoned parking lots, who watch to be sure the other leaves safely. text me you get home safe. the tally marks of drinks on hidden wrists, carefully disguised as other things ever since men picked up on what it meant and used it to target the “weakest link.”

my father tells me we have nothing to worry about. last night he sent me one of those email chains that say at the top “Safety Tips For The Women In Your Life!!!! Don’t Let Her Die!!”

me, and the stranger on the train. she is asleep and the man is asking me who i am going home to. i feel tears pricking the sides of my eyes. i am 13 while he towers over me. he reaches out one hand, and while i don’t know how she knows, she speaks up without opening her eyes: “If you touch my daughter, sir, I will murder you.” Whatever he grumbles is lost in history, because this moment I am so grateful for the existence of other people that I cannot breathe.

I am 19 and on my phone when i become aware of a 13 year old girl is smiling nervously at a man who’s saying disgusting things. I grab her arm. “There you are, cindy,” I say, and then look at the man like he is bile. “Do you need something from my sister?” i ask, and i walk away with her. she cries later.

this is the way of things: a silent, secret web. our promise to each other that despite our differences, when it comes to the wire, we become family, instantly. the unspoken promise. i’m here. i’m watching. i’ll witness.