A passionate vegan-feminist-earthling-biophiliac-drug free-sex positive-bicycle warrior-writer with increasingly anarchist views.

Enjoy!

 

3:21 PM.

My life these past three weeks:

Moving. Cleaning. Painting. Kaleidoscope house. Embarrassing yoga classes. Losing best friends. Coffee. No internet. Dreaming. Writing. Breathing in and out and watch my breath, she says, concentrate on it am I alive right now?. Conversations with women about G-d in the same time zones. Texas summers (I am sticky hot). Bad skin. Stray kittens. New tattoos. Work, that is, taking orders and fake attitudes. Are coworkers really friends?. Men with blue eyes and brown eyes and men I loved that left me. Short stories. Folk music. Early afternoon thunderstorms. Am I ugly? Does that even matter? My mother my mother. Big breakfasts. Walks home from the police. The house smells like weed. Wheatgrass shots and shopping at the health food store so much they know me by my first name. Growing hair. Booooooooooks. Loneliness. “Hey girl, you lookin’?” “No, I’m living.” Exhaustion. Bob Dylan on the sidewalks staring at the 3/4 moon. No one here is crazy enough to be interesting. 

I am insane enough to be sober, frantic enough to walk by myself at 3 am and the noise from the men echoes through a three-car street while I hold the eyes of those who walk next to me, thinking Don’t look at my body Don’t look at my body. I am not scared of anything. 

There are the occasions that men—intellectual men, clever men, engaged men—insist on playing devil’s advocate, desirous of a debate on some aspect of feminist theory or reproductive rights or some other subject generally filed under the heading: Women’s Issues. These intellectual, clever, engaged men want to endlessly probe my argument for weaknesses, want to wrestle over details, want to argue just for fun—and they wonder, these intellectual, clever, engaged men, why my voice keeps raising and why my face is flushed and why, after an hour of fighting my corner, hot tears burn the corners of my eyes. Why do you have to take this stuff so personally? ask the intellectual, clever, and engaged men, who have never considered that the content of the abstract exercise that’s so much fun for them is the stuff of my life.

Melissa McEwan, of course, on the terrible bargain. My life as a woman, as a queer person, as a fat person, is not your thought experiment.  (via sanitywatchers)

Exactly. Your “playful” argumentation is in fact a series of personal attacks. You don’t get to attack us and then say we’re too emotional.

(via cocoku)

Yes. It might be an interesting intellectual exercise for you, but this is my life and my reality we’re talking about. 

(via bitterbuffalo)

I know some people who need to read this

(via reelaroundthefountain)

Sometimes I need other people to remember this, and sometimes I need to remind myself.

(via rubyvroom)

I have this problem with my uncle. He thinks he’s engaging in playful debate. He’s not. He’s taking problems that have very real consequences in people’s lives, including mine, and treating them like they’re merely hypothetical, just interesting fodder for debate. And then he wonders why I just give up and walk away. To him, it’s a signal he’s won the argument, that he’s right. Really, it’s just because I don’t have the spoons to put up with his bullshit for hours on end.

(via bubonickitten)

Reblogged for Cindy.

(via bodkins)

harvestxvx:

sisterspock:

bloodandbody:
Why Old Books Smell Good
“Lignin, the stuff that prevents all trees from adopting the weeping habit, is a polymer made up of units that are closely related to vanillin. When made into paper and stored for years, it breaks down and smells good. Which is how divine providence has arranged for secondhand bookstores to smell like good quality vanilla absolute, subliminally stoking a hunger for knowledge in all of us.”
 — From Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez’s Perfumes: the guide

This only really applies to books after the 1840s or so, since that’s when books started being made with wood pulp. Before that, they were made with old rags, which is why books from the 1400s are in better shape than books from the late 1800s. Wood pulp is nice because it is cheap and helped make books accessible to everyday people, but it makes awful paper.

harvestxvx:

sisterspock:

bloodandbody:

Why Old Books Smell Good

Lignin, the stuff that prevents all trees from adopting the weeping habit, is a polymer made up of units that are closely related to vanillin. When made into paper and stored for years, it breaks down and smells good. Which is how divine providence has arranged for secondhand bookstores to smell like good quality vanilla absolute, subliminally stoking a hunger for knowledge in all of us.”

 — From Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez’s Perfumes: the guide

This only really applies to books after the 1840s or so, since that’s when books started being made with wood pulp. Before that, they were made with old rags, which is why books from the 1400s are in better shape than books from the late 1800s. Wood pulp is nice because it is cheap and helped make books accessible to everyday people, but it makes awful paper.

Can something go well for once?

xveganvancex:

veganthis:

Nate Buckley is an activist from Buffalo, NY who was recently tackled, beaten, pepper sprayed and arrested by cops for the crime of holding a sign at a protest. He is facing multiple charges and his case really needs more attention

I’ve said it before and I will say it again. FUCK COPS and their bullying fucking tactics. This is bullshit. Someone in handcuffs who isn’t struggling and is standing completely still, and you fucking come up behind them and pepper spray them from an inch away from their face? You sir, are a pathetic peace of shit.

(Source: burningheartsmedia)

The Ameliorated: »close your legs

mermaidmilk:

theameliorated:

i understand that in this day and age that sleeping around is common, and ive slowly been coming to terms with it. i feel like the only people who can be open about their sexcapades are those who are in a relationship or have one partner. it skeevs me out to hear that a girl will sleep with more than one person in a matter of weeks.  its okay to say no.  i dont know what the intentions are when hopping from one guy to the other but it cant be anything good.  

i read something the other day along the lines of me probably calling girls sluts because im not one for the sake of being accepted.  i mean honestly, who the fuck can easily accept a slut?  no one!  that was the most ridiculous thing ive ever heard.  plus, if you havent read i was brought up by parents who are over the age 65.  im old fashioned.  of course i dont think sleeping around is right.  im not saying you have to save sex for marriage but at least have sex with someone you hold a deep connection with and vice versa.

i was never the type of girl to be horny and call a guy up to seek relief.  a guy for one night doesnt deserve my body.  me opening my legs up to a guy is like winning on a scratch off ticket: it doesnt happen often but when it does its something special.  to me its the ultimate emotional connection and i wouldnt want to share that with a different person each time it happened.

i sit back and think about some of the girls i know and wonder how theyre gonna get through life with the reputation they have.  what man is going to be 100% comfortable with them knowing what they have done?  i imagine its hard for a male knowing that the person they love has slept with a ton of men.  you might as well have slept with the world!  even worse if the guys is friends with all the people the girl has slept with.

 First off, the fact that someone can have multiple sexual partners isn’t something that was just invented in someones basement in the last ten years. So the whole “day and age” has nothing to do with anything. Secondly, this is completely directed towards women. Is this point not valid if a man does it? It is okay to say no, but it also just as okay to say yes. Their intentions are just that, theirs. So who cares if anyone thinks it “cant be anything good” You would be surprised how many people can accept the term slut and the people who claim it. If your “old fashioned” then you should know what it’s like to have manners. You should accept the fact that not everyone lives the  lifestyle you choose to and that in no way makes it okay for you to say what they’re doing is right and wrong. You stated ”but at least have sex with someone you hold a deep connection with and vice versa”, how do you know they don’t have just that with their partners? What if they’re sleeping with multiple of their closest friends who know them better then anyone, is this okay by your standards? Being sexual doesn’t mean being dumb, and even if a person wants to sleep with a complete stranger if they’re being safe about it and it’s with mutual consent, who gives a shit? What someone does with their body is not your problem. If you’re worried about someone you’re close to getting themselves into a sticky situation then you should voice that in a friendly matter, not judge them. “to me its the ultimate emotional connection”, and to some people it’s the ultimate physical one, get over it. “what man is going to be 100% comfortable with them knowing what they have done?” A man that will love them for them and not for their past. A man who will be 100% comfortable with the fact that that person is who they are for a reason. Why would you want to be loved by someone who doesn’t accept you anyway? I understand it’s not your thing to have multiple partners. But you have to understand that that is other people’s cup of tea. Slut shaming is so stupid, let alone girl on girl hate. If it’s not your cup of tea don’t fucking drink it. But don’t sit here and type away about how other should be ashamed for doing what makes them happy.

“me opening my legs up to a guy is like winning on a scratch off ticket: it doesnt happen often but when it does its something special.” So what you’re saying is I can buy you for a $1.50 at the liquor store? Radical!

(Source: juelzb4swine)