Nope.

I like stuffs, algunas cosas (bio/description under construction)

[volviendoperonoenformadeficha]

After all these years, I still find myself returning here, even though it's not the same as it used to be...

[futubandera]

[bitchvirgo]

everything i know about supernatural has been learned involuntarily

[beebeedibapbeediboop]

boop-boop-a-doop

[rikareena]

ESPECIALLY SINCE HER CHARACTER ACTUALLY IS BASED ON AN AFRICAN AMERICAN WOMAN: ESTHER JONES.

THANK YOU FOR THIS!!

👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾

[theriddlerisanerd]

I just feel the need to clarify that Esther Jones was actually a child - and is not any of the women shown above.

[tragicallyphosphorescent]

Wait really? I did some quick research and it said nothing about a child but about the grown up singer shown above. If this is true then they not only white-washed her but also sexualized a child. How awful.

[theriddlerisanerd]

I believe this image that’s been going around the internet

Was incorrectly recorded as Esther Jones and is actually Esther Bigeou. It makes even more sense seeing as Esther Jones was a child performer who quit the business before reaching adulthood.

Of course Esther Jones kinda went missing in the public eye and her sources are confusing so my information could be wrong

[soundsof71]

[humansofnewyork]

“He could be loving. At least for a couple weeks a month. But then his pain pill prescription would run out, and things would get very tense. We were constantly walking on eggshells. Occasionally there’d be a flash of violence, but I’d only see some of that. Because my mom would always defuse the situation. She played the role of the nurturing wife, making his dinner, rubbing his feet, doing things around the house. One night when I was fourteen, I was getting ready for bed when I heard a loud thud. It was an intentional overdose. He flatlined on the way to the hospital, and he only survived because of the paramedics. A month later my mother found drugs again, and finally kicked him out of the house. She started working three jobs to support us. She’d get up at 5 in the morning to do janitorial work. Then she’d go to the library. And then the grocery store. But she still found time to encourage me in my schoolwork and support me through university. Recently I finished my first year as a resident physician, and my mom came out for a visit. We rented a cabin in the middle of nowhere. We spent hours in the hot tub every night. And I’m not sure why, maybe it was the wine, but she chose that moment to tell me about her life. She confessed that she regretted staying with my father for so long. But that she didn’t feel like she had a choice. She’d been raised in a religious environment, where the wife is expected to stay. And my father had been so much more controlling than I’d realized. She told me that he wouldn’t allow her to study. Or get a job. Or buy anything, even for us. He never allowed her to be the ‘fun’ parent or the ‘smart’ parent. And if she ever pushed back, it could get physical. But we never saw it, because she shielded us from everything. For my entire life, I’d seen her defer to my dad on everything. Every bill. Every decision. She wouldn’t even drive on the highway. It was always him. She had never seemed like she was in control. But I was too young to know what was happening. What she was sheltering us from. And what she eventually got us away from. I had never realized that she’d been the strong one the entire time.”

[notvoid]

[bringiton]

LOVECRAFT COUNTRY: PHOTOGRAPHY TO VIDEO

DEPARTMENT STORE: Mobile - Alabama (1956), by Gordon Parks UNTITLED: Shady Grove - Alabama (1956), by Gordon Parks THE LOUISVILLE FLOOD: Louisville - Kentucky (1937), by Margaret Bourke-White

[ai-yo]

this was so cool I recognised these images instantly

[blackinperiodfilms]

I want to see more integrations of past black artists’ work with modern projects. A beautiful tribute in motion.

[humansofnewyork]

“I’d just gotten out of a ten-year relationship. I didn’t want to date. I didn’t even know how to date. But my friend Marla was really working on me. For months she was trying to get me to go on a blind date with her friend Kate. She’d talk about her. She’d show me pictures. But I was scared, so I’d find any excuse not to go through with it. She seemed too wholesome. She was from the Midwest. And worst of all, she had a kid. I was childless for a reason. I’d had a difficult childhood. My father was an alchoholic and sexually abusive. Two of my siblings died by suicide. And somehow I’d internalized that it was my fault. I had a belief that children ruined their parents’ lives. But I agreed to meet Kate anyway. We met at a park in the middle of a rare March snowstorm. The snow was really coming down, but we still walked for three miles around a lake. Kate talks a lot when she’s nervous, so I heard her whole life story. Being a mother was such an important part of her life. And she was determined to have another child. She’d just gotten to the end of a long adoption process, but at the last minute, the girl’s father wouldn’t let a lesbian adopt her child. I listened to Kate’s heartbreak, and her determination, and I couldn’t help falling in love. After a few months of dating, I was allowed to meet her son. And he was wonderful. But another child? A baby? I tried to talk her out of it. And she tried to meet me in the middle. She did her best to not want another child. But eventually she told me that it was going to happen, and I needed to make a decision. I took a two-week trip to Bali for a yoga retreat. I sat in daily meditation. And one morning I had a vision of a young girl in my lap. I could feel her warmth against my body. I seemed happy. And she seemed happy. It was such a feeling of peace. And there was Kate, smiling at us both. By the time I opened my eyes, I had made my decision. But unbeknownst to me, Kate had also made a decision. She needed a partner who was fully committed. So she came to the airport ready to break up with me. But she didn’t have a chance. Because the moment I got off the plane, I told her: ‘Let’s get married. I’m ready to be a mother.’”

[vague-humanoid]

tumblr needs a feature that autoblocks  blogs that block you. I’m tired of going to reblog from some new person on my dash only to learn we’ve got beef and no-one bothered to tell me.

[notyourmamasspoons]

Just for anyone still thinking the civil rights movement was “SO long ago!”

Fred Hampton would be 51 this year if police hadn’t executed him at age 21.

Ruby Bridges is 65.

MLK would be 91 (he was assassinated at 39).

Malcom X would be 95 (he was assassinated at 39).

Claudette Colvin (the first Black woman known to refuse to give up her seat AT 15) is only 80.

Mary Louise Smith is 83.

Fred Gray is 89.

EMMETT TILL WOULD BE 79 (he was murdered at age 14 because of a white woman’s lie).

Ask yourself how old your grandparents are. Hell, how old your PARENTS are. How old are the people in most government seats right now?

Miss me with that bullshit of “It’S sO lOnG aGo. Things are better now.” These people and so many more who aren’t able to be here would be distraught at what is STILL fucking happening today. To say things like that is just willfully turning your head away from the injustices that we see today! That’s the that on that.

[thundergrace]

“How old are people in most government seats right now?” <-!!!! THIS!! People don’t fully digest THIS! MANY many people in the most powerful positions in government WERE alive to hate MLK. They were building early political careers in opposition to the Civil Rights movement, actively oppressing Black people in lower positions of government, fighting to keep segregation alive, etc. And they’re STILL doing it!

[catchymemes]

[lamafeeling]

Some of y’all really think racism in America looks like this:

When it really looks like this

[rainbowcolouredshoes]

One day I hope I am the girl that walks into a room and all eyes are on her. 

[andthebluestblue]

The trick is to get a really big hat and then scream

[tokyostreetphoto]

Atmospheric Saturation, Shinjuku 新宿

[humansofnewyork]

“I’d never given it any thought. But when my boss’s husband got a kidney from a newscaster in town, it sorta became a local story. And I began to learn more about it. I found out that a kidney from a living donor can give someone more than twenty years of life. And there were 2500 people in Ohio on the waiting list. So after confirming that I’d still be able to drink, I signed up for the registry. Two months later I got an email saying that they’d found a match. They’d only say that it was a local man. But I was excited. I think I needed a little purpose in my life. I didn’t have any children. I didn’t have anyone to carry on my whatever. And I loved thinking that I could help someone in such a major way. Not everyone meets their donor. But since both of us agreed, a meeting was arranged for after the surgery. They sat me in a conference room at the hospital. I had no idea who was going to walk in the door. And when Tom walked in, I could only think one thing: ‘Oh my God. I’ve given my kidney to Wesley Snipes.’ He was really quiet, so I did most of the talking. But at the end he said: ‘I only have one question. Why would you do this for someone you didn’t know?’ And I said: ‘Why not?’ After that it was like a light switched on. We were going to be friends forever. That’s just how it was going to be. Tom became like a brother to me. He makes fun of me a lot, but he’s also extremely protective. Not that I’d ever need someone killed, but if I did, I’d know who to call. Three years after the transplant I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was a nasty kind. And I didn’t have any family around. But Tom called my sister in Florida and said: ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got this. It’s my turn to take care of her.’ He took me to every single one of my chemo appointments. He kept me company the entire time. A few weeks after my treatment ended, I threw myself a 50th birthday party. At the end I gave a little speech. I was looking out at all the people I loved. All the people who’d helped me. And I couldn’t even speak. I turned into a big sobbing mess. Tom got up from his chair and walked to the side of the stage, and grabbed my hand. And he held it until I could speak again.”

[closet-keys]

Me, wanting to buy something from a clothing company that pays living wages: god it’s so expensive It is not too expensive, it is fairly priced and I’m just not paid enough.

[rox-and-prose]

Honestly I have a theory that a big reason why corporations hate the idea of higher wages is that their entire business model revolves around having the lowest prices, rather than the best product or service. If we get paid better, we can afford to make a choice.

[keepcalmandcarriefischer]

Oh

[computationalcalculator]

this actually isn’t just a theory, it’s an entire deliberate tactic, and if you major in business they literally spend multiple semester-long classes teaching you how to do it