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Nothing human is finally calculable; even to ourselves we are strange.
- Gore Vidal (via nevver)
quecaigaelsistema:

LITERALLY HOW I FELT ABOUT EVERY ASSHOLE WHITE PERSON WHO CAME WITH LEGALIZE WEED SIGNS AT MAY DAY TODAY IN LOS ANGELES.
Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it’s all a male fantasy: that you’re strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren’t catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you’re unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.
-

Margaret Atwood, The Robber Bride

I follow Margaret Atwood on twitter because she interacts with really funny nature accounts (she’ll rt something like @DucksIncorporated or @Birdwatchersunited and the tweet will be like, “The beautiful spring feathers of the meadowlark.”) Anyway. It’s easy to forget that she’s also a very dank writer.

(via christinefriar)

You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman.

This line, oof.

Been spending a lot of time lately trying to untangle how a lifetime of patriarchy has fucked up my own sexual agency. Nothing like getting derailed inside your own head by worries of how you look in the moment, whether you measure up to some external standard…

(via queeracula)

(Source: ricebowls)

thenaturenymph:

Thoughts.
fuckyeahanarchopunk:

Revolution till victory
Watch Video
86,511 notes
 /  Via: currytits
The idea that sex is something a woman gives a man, and she loses something when she does that, which again for me is nonsense. I want us to raise girls differently where boys and girls start to see sexuality as something that they own, rather than something that a boy takes from a girl.
- Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (NPR)

(Source: try-so-to-live)

sextnoise:

crrocs:

so i tried to make this deep and meaningful and added a water gif

I AM DEAD
raw-r-evolution:

jazzy-delinquent:

The Mecca

unify !

He is taking a course on Marxist ideology.
He says, “The only real solution is to smash the system and start again.”
His thumb is caressing the most bourgeois copy of the communist manifesto that I have ever seen,
He bought it at Barnes and Noble for twenty-nine U.S. American dollars and ninety-nine cents,
Its hard cover shows a dark man with a scarved face
Waving a gigantic red flag against a fictional smoky background.
The matte finish is fucking gorgeous.
He wants to be congratulated for paying Harvard sixty thousand dollars
To teach him that the system is unfair.
He pulls his iPhone from his imported Marino wool jacket, and leaves.

What people can’t possibly tell from the footage on TV
Is that the water cannon feels like getting whipped with a burning switch.
Where I come from, they fill it with sewer water and hope that they get you in the face with your mouth open
So that the hepatitis will keep you in bed for the next protest.
What you can’t tell from Harvard square,
Is that when the tear gas bursts from nowhere to everywhere all at once,
It scrapes your insides like barbed wire, sawing at your lungs.
Tear gas is such a benign term for it,
If you have never breathed it in you would think it was a nostalgic experience.
What you can’t learn at Barnes and Noble,
Is that when they rush you, survival is to run,
I am never as fast as when the police are chasing me.
I know what happens to women in the holding cells down there and yet…
We still do it.

I inherited my communist manifesto,
It has no cover—
Because my mother ripped it off when she hid it in the dust jacket of “Don Quixote”
The day before the soldiers destroyed her apartment,
Looking for subversive propaganda.
She burned the cover, could not bring herself to burn the pages,
Hoped to God the soldiers couldn’t read,
They never found it.
So she was not killed for it, but her body bore the scars of the torture chamber,
For wanting her children to have a better life than she did,
Don’t talk to me about revolution.

I know what the price of smashing the system really is, my people already tried that.
The price of uprise is paid in blood,
And not Harvard blood.
The blood that ran through the streets of Santiago,
The blood thrown alive from Argentine helicopters into the Atlantic.

It is easy to say “revolution” from the comfort of a New England library.

It is easy to offer flesh to the cause,
When it is not yours to give.

-

Catalina Ferro, “Manifesto” (via dialecticsof)

I feel like people do need to remember that there is a very real, very painful, very human element to the word “revolution”.

(via nuanced-subversion)

(Source: sincerely-the-end)

likeafieldmouse:

Lesley Vance - Untitled (2013)

desidere:

bellahugo:

ratchetmelancholy:

White privilege is your history being taught as a core class and mine being taught as an elective. 

please let them know.

white privilege is your history being taught as a core class, and mine being banned because it would promote "the overthrow of the U.S. government, foster racial resentment, and advocate ethnic solidarity."