[Image: Three pictures. One: A black and white photo of several white people all crowded around casually observing a Black person who has been lynched. Two: A Trayvon Martin shooting target with a picture of a black hoodie with skittles candy in the pocket with a bullseye target on the chest. Third: A racist white person laying on the ground with skittles and ice tea by them as they wear a white hoodie.]
You celebrated lynchings and mocked black bodies then.
You celebrate lynchings and mock black bodies now.
Whiteness.
I really, really hate that there is a need to reblog this.
Not only did you celebrate the murder and mock the murder of black people, but somebody’s making money off those targets. And before you say “OMG NOT ALL WHITE PEOPLE ARE LIKE THAT” — no cookies for not buying a Trayvon target, no patpats for not Trayvoning. That’s bare minimum for “being a decent human being”.
Call out other white people for their racism and educate them. That might be cookieworthy.
I couldn’t have said it any better.
I only want to add that if these images don’t horrify you and disgust you, you aren’t human. Or at least no human I want anywhere around me.
Via Indigoneiromancy
As long as you live in a body that is not cis, abled, white, & male? Someone’s going to spend a lot of time, energy, & money digging into why you’re wrong for…
Being trans*(if there is a better term, please let me know), female, or a POC is not a characteristic that is mutable. Being fat may not be a choice, but it can be something that is changed. Weight can be lost, surgeries may remove pounds, or you may gain more weight, but you cannot change the fact that you are a POC, or that you are trans* (even if you transition fully, the fact remains that you were originally born in a body that didn’t fit who you are/were as a person) and being born a cis female isn’t really something that can just be erased.
If you were born white, cis, and male, no matter if you are fat, skinny, or in-between, you have privilege. It’s not that hard to understand. I am white and cis, even though I am fat and bi. Doesn’t matter. I still benefit (even though I wish it wasn’t the case) from that privilege. So do you, if you are white and cis. So please, try for some reading comprehension before you get your hackles up.
LOLOLOL This is a hilarious question!
Yes. Yes, young person. Some of us lived through the entire 80s— and even before that! We’re known as the Ancient Ones.
Dammit Tumblr. I ALREADY HAVE ENOUGH ISSUES WITH BEING IN MY…
I was born in ‘81 do I count?
Of course. <3
(Source: marshmallowmegamama)
To celebrate Afro-indian culture within East Africa.
Photos by tanishq aarka
This is Africa, our Africa
Teary. Too beautiful.
Amazing. Those women are beautiful, so beautiful.
Via rawr i'm a tumblr
was anybody on tumblr even alive in the 80s?
LOLOLOL This is a hilarious question!
Yes. Yes, young person. Some of us lived through the entire 80s— and even before that! We’re known as the Ancient Ones.
Dammit Tumblr. I ALREADY HAVE ENOUGH ISSUES WITH BEING IN MY THIRTIES. :P
Oh, just stop it. I graduated High School in the very early 80’s. You youngsters have no idea…
WHO WAKENS THE OLD ONES? WHY DO YOU DISTURB US?
Born in ‘78. I’ve got clothing older than some of these kids on Tumblr. *grumbles about the good old days of cassette tapes, bbs’s and pong*
(Source: marshmallowmegamama)
… One Pharmacist At A Time.
Type 1 Diabetes entered our lives in 1986. Since then the cost of breathing another day has been about $62,400. This doesn’t include medical care. This doesn’t include diligent use of testing supplies. About $2500 a year is spent on needles and…
JFC, they think you can get high off insulin??? Really??? I can’t even afford testing supplies most of the time, and even though I am working on losing weight, it looks more or less like I’m going to end up on insulin or some other injectible in the foreseeable future. Those fucking fuckers. It’s a shame you can’t sue them.
But choosing to eat meat absolutely makes you a bad person.
Like, without question. Just a total shithead.
I’m going to go finish that left-over steak from…
I am so looking forward to my medium rare steak that I will have this week, cooked with mushrooms and a nice baked potato. I haven’t had a good steak (or much red meat) in three months. OM NOM NOM
And, and, I’m going to eat some sushi, some of it made with eel and salmon, and I will probably have chicken and fish for the rest of the month.
If that makes me a horrible person, then I can fully accept that. Although Cleatus (my cat) would disagree.
I am getting forced out of my house soon because of being gay and transgender.
Mum: “You either need to stop acting like a boy and be a girl, or get out. You are ruining your little sister’s life with your choices. A six-year-old cannot go around and say, ‘I have a two brothers, one used to be a…
(Source: sir-belmont)
…I didn’t even realize half of the things I typed…that I was feeling like that…
Now I’m crying. Thank you whoever made this.
This helped me vent today
That was incredible.
i don’t know why… but i feel like crying :/ this is such a nice thing. thank you.
this is such a beautiful idea, I love whoever made this.
Whoever made this; Thank you from the bottom of my heart. This is amazing. Just, believe me.
What the hell D:
The stuff I was typing I didn’t even know I felt.
This is pretty and all but it made me feel like shit.
I spend most of my time trying to distract myself from this stuff.
But this just made me realize how bloody alone I am anyhow.
God. Sobbing. I hate this website. I already pour my heart into all kinds of stuff and see things I say and do ignored. I don’t need to see my words being destroyed as I type them before I get the chance to even pretend they matter.
I kind of feel the same way, actually.
It’s like it’s destroying my valuable memories and experiences. Even my suffering makes me me.
Still, most people might get something from it, so that’s why I reblogged.
Didn’t mean to blame you. Or anyone.
God, I’m sorry. I wish I could vent all this stuff but that just brings me back to where I was on New Year’s.
