thekrissychula

"Daya is a hopeless romantic and she believes in love. That’s something that we share. She doesn’t hold grudges, she forgives very easily, and I think I do the same. When people see the character and then get to know me, they say ‘Oh, you’re so different’, but we are very similar in that way. Also, with her image, she has a little insecurity and a inner struggle that I’m working on currently."

shmurdapunk
It’s (expletive) wicked,” said Steven French, an 18-year-old who was said he was visiting from Haverhill, Mass.
“It’s just like a rush. You’re revolting from the cops,” he said, sometime after 9 p.m. “It’s a blast to do things that you’re not supposed to do.

One person’s quote from the New Hampshire Keene State riots sums up white privilege in America. Whites don’t have to worry about police/other people coming down hard on them for simply existing, for walking down a sidewalk (Michael Brown), for carrying a gun in a Wal-Mart (John Crawford), for walking home after going to a convenience store (Trayvon Martin), for trying to get help after a car crash (Renisha McBride, Jonathan Ferrell). 

So, yeah, Steven, go on and enjoy your white privilege. Never mind that African-Americans are literally dying while you and other whites get to literally stand on top of upturned cars without threats of being killed for simply existing. 

Meanwhile, thank you for giving us a quote to illustrate white privilege in America. You’re an asshole, Steven. [Sentinel Source]

(via thepoliticalfreakshow)

soloafro

This is the rape joke:
My best friend was four years old the first time his father came into his room at midnight and tore out his throat. He still has days when I cannot hold him because the memory of a bleeding trachea haunts his doorway. He has not been home for the holidays in many years, but – even now – hands are seen as weapons.

This is the rape joke:
I have been told by more than twenty people that they have been raped. To all of them, I asked where the rapist was. From none of them, I heard ‘jail.’

This is the rape joke:
Once my brother told me that I was so ugly, I would be a virgin forever. Unless someone raped me. But even they wouldn’t come back for seconds.

This is the rape joke:
I believed him.

This is the rape joke:
I now look at every woman on the street and wonder if the space between her legs is a crime scene, surrounded by ripped caution tape. The statistics tell me that this is so common that I will never be in a room that does not contain a survivor. Not even if I am in that room alone.

This is the rape joke:
I was thirteen years old, and he was supposed to be just a friend.

This is the rape joke:
When his older brother came home, the boy pulled away. He wiped the tears from my face and said ‘we should do this again some time.’

This is the rape joke:
When I finally told my parents, they asked what I had been wearing.

This is the rape joke:
I had been wearing my innocence. My trust. I had worn the love I held for humanity and expected to be treated well. I had never been taught that I would be that girl, the one who keeps a mine of secrets between her legs – that girl was the slut. I wasn’t supposed to be breakable.
What had I been wearing? I wore the rape joke, then I became it.

This is the Rape Joke | d.a.s

After Lora Mathis’s poem “the Rape Joke

(via ragyo)