(Source: herkindoftea, via raisinsandpalmtrees)
I am trying to find a way to
communicate my hardness
without cutting anybody on my sharp edges.
I am opening and closing my mouth;
I am practicing different shapes with my lips.
I am searching for a way
to tell the truth without feeling empty afterwards.
I am trying to make this easy.
But I open my chest to speak and what comes is not words,
Listen to me and you’ll be scrubbing
smell of me
out of you for weeks.
When you discuss the wage gap, here are a few things to keep in mind:
- Only white women make $0.77 to a man’s dollar.
- Black women make about $0.68 to a man’s dollar.
- Latina women make about $0.58 to a man’s dollar.
so, i know my blog has turned into a bit of a chronic illness rant blog. (and i’m not apologizing for it. this is my space.) and it will probably continue to be one for quite awhile.
after literally getting on my knees and begging and sobbing for something. somewhere in the universe to relieve me from my constant pain i have been in, i realized that i need to make some changes in my life and mentality. i need to change my focus from my dreams/career to my quality of life. success really doesn’t matter if you are too sick to enjoy and thrive in what you are doing. i can get back to dream chasing. i am only 20 years old and i have so much time. it is pointless to go to school, when i spend most of my days in the bathroom. when i miss amazing education opportunities because i’m heaved over in a stall. i have to take care of me. AND ANYONE WHO TELLS ME I AM OVERDRAMATIC OR FAKING IT OR TELLS ME I AM WRONG CAN KINDLY GO FUCK OFF.
that being said i am taking a medical leave from school until i am diagnosed/treated properly. i am terrified as hell, because i know it is going to be a painful and hard journey. i am ready to get this part of my life over with and settled though. i am going to be strong and conquer this. 10 years is too long to live how i have been living.
also just wanted to say that my support system rocks and i am glad that they helped me to slow down and see that it is okay to need help and get help.
(Source: socialpsychopathblr, via setbabiesonfire)
my mother told me that it’s time to stop
worrying about who i am
and time to start worrying about money
i wonder if all adults were sat down
and forced to give up their heart
if killing it was a thought-out, calculated decision
are some more wrinkled because they put up a bigger fight?
if so, my face will look like a
one-line painting by the end
with new lines popping up every minute
because i will never stop fighting
for the things that