Hey, you can talk to me here http://joelsvoice.deviantart.com/ Name is Danny. My fandoms: Generation kill, Scrubs, Teen Wolf, Walking dead, The Game of Thrones, Doctor Who, Star Track, QAF

(Source: imprintx)

It’s Monday. I’m going home at 6pm and a middle aged man and a teenage boy are the only people left on the bus with me. I consider the fact that because the driver is also a man I am the only person left on the bus with the correct genetic makeup for boobs. I’m automatically scared, scared because of my own anatomy. I wonder how old I was when I realized that my own body was going to be the cause of the constant anxiety and fear I feel in situations like this. I get off at the last stop and the older man smiles at me while following me up the street. His smile drips, drips, drips and my heart is pounding, pounding, pounding. He turns off down another road, but I run the rest of the way home.

Not all men.

I’m at home on a Tuesday, beginning to plan the travels I want to go on next year. I dream of wandering the streets and meeting strangers. I just can’t wait to escape the city I’ve lived in for 17 long years. But… my mum is hesitant. She’s forever worried about the danger that being a young girl traveling alone can bring. I’ll be alone and she’s scared. Surely I’m invincible. I feel invincible. But I know, I know this danger is real and I can’t help but think to myself, if I feel unsafe in my own city, how am i going to feel in a strange place with strange men who don’t speak the same language as me? If I was my brother planning this, I would probably just be wondering if European girls are going to be hot.

Not all men.

Wednesday is a beautiful sunny day but I’ve always been told that I don’t have a “nice enough body” to wear a bikini on the beach. Ever since I was 6 years old I’ve thought that having tummy fat was ugly. That skin that doesn’t have a perfectly golden glow is undesirable. I amble to a clear patch of sand in my one piece and I can feel pairs of eyes latching onto me. Hairy men in speedos who I don’t look twice at eat into my body with their stares. I’m a piece of meat. I am a piece of meat? I am here for their amusement. Please don’t let me be eaten alive.

Not all men.

Thursday night two friends and I are walking to our god damn school dance when we hear “Jesus look at you! You sluts heading to a pole?” These words snarl out of the mouth of a respectably dressed man and we stop in horror. Shivers roll up my back in fear. It’s dark. We are alone. What. Do. We. Do??? One of us pulls the finger back. I can never be sure how quickly a sexist man can get angry so we walk quickly away. We’re angry, so so angry. But also so… deflated. I wonder if we deserve this shame.

Not all men.

Sitting on the internet, Friday night and scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed:

“Haha, good job at the game today bro. You RAPED them!”
“Damn with tits like that, you’re asking for it :P”

Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…

I’m shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and I want to CRY because these boys don’t realize how small they make me feel with just pressing a few keys. I see these boys on the streets, I talk to these boys, I laugh with these boys. Dear GOD, dear GOD i hope these boys don’t think actions speak louder than words…

Not all men.

Three rules that have been drilled into me since I was young run through my mind at 1.30am on a Satur… Sunday Morning:

-Don’t ever talk to strange men
-Don’t ever be alone at night in a strange place
-Don’t ever get into a car with a stranger

I break all 3 of these laws as I pull open the taxi door. Making light conversation with the driver, he doesn’t see my sweaty hand clutching the small pocket knife I keep hidden on me at all times. He doesn’t even realize the fear I feel at his mere presence. He cannot comprehend it, he never will. How easy would this 15 minute car ride be if I was born a boy?

Not all men.

It comes to Sunday, another snoozy, sleepy, Sunday and someone has the AUDACITY to tell me not all men are rapists. I say nothing.

I’m a 17 year old girl.
When I am walking alone and it’s dark, it’s all men.
When I am in a car with a man I don’t know well, it’s all men.
When men drunkenly leer at me on the streets, it’s all men.
When a boy won’t leave me alone at a party, it’s all men.

Not all men are rapists. But for a young girl like me? Every one of them has the potential to be.

Not.
All.
Men.

a piece i wrote for an english assignment about my personal experiences with rape culture, in particular with the saying “not all men” which i know has been makin a lot of controversy on the internet recently! idk just wanted to share (via trueho)

I am almost in tears because this hit me so hard

(via sadbloggger)

proudly-pro-choice:

It’s unimaginable and disgusting that this happens to children that don’t even understand what’s happening to them.

-Allie

(Source: nixoninajar)

I want to make you feel so fucking happy that you forget every bit of sad in you

—Nahilliam Truspear (via heaven-orlasvegas)

sicklysatisfied:

solar-citrus:

You would be surprised with how many people in your life could be going through depression at this very moment.  People hide it like a paper bag over their heads out of fear of being judged, made fun of, seen as weak, or just not taken seriously.  Depression should not be taken lightly, it holds us down from our purpose and potential in life.  Those who tell you that it doesn’t exist have never experienced depression in their life, therefore not understanding the symptoms and how it’s something that cannot be fixed in a day!  So if you think you are depressed or if you think you know someone else who is, please talk to a friend, a family member, or anyone else in your life that you trust - never overlook the possibility of seeing a doctor for more professional help!!  Your feelings are real, your feelings are shared upon millions.  Don’t hide it, talk to someone about it.  With the right help, you can rediscover your confidence and begin life anew with our undying love and support!

We are right here!!

fucking beautiful

f0xbaby:

walkingfoxiest:

a post where I explain with images how foxes are the best thing ever, and how if you disagree you are obviously wrong

Foxes aree the bessssttt omg

(Source: )

humansofnewyork:

"She taught me how to dance. We actually met at a graduation party. I was the only one not on the dance floor, and her friend bet her that she couldn’t get me to dance. I’d already said ‘no’ to ten girls, but she talked me into it. We were together 55 years. She died eight years ago, but I still dance every day."
(Mexico City, Mexico)

humansofnewyork:

"She taught me how to dance. We actually met at a graduation party. I was the only one not on the dance floor, and her friend bet her that she couldn’t get me to dance. I’d already said ‘no’ to ten girls, but she talked me into it. We were together 55 years. She died eight years ago, but I still dance every day."

(Mexico City, Mexico)

mangocianamarch:

survivingwithouthiddles:

encyclopedophile:

postsfromthemrs:

Look!

Guys. It’s adding insult to injury.

Somewhere Tom Hiddleston is shivering with excitement

mangocianamarch:

survivingwithouthiddles:

encyclopedophile:

postsfromthemrs:

Look!

Guys. It’s adding insult to injury.

Somewhere Tom Hiddleston is shivering with excitement