Happy Mother’s Day to myself and other the other mommy’s. Our job is so important.
- society: oh you have your period? well you have two options.
- woman: okay.
- society: you can use sanitary pads, which make you feel like you are wearing a diaper, and have the added fun benefit of being extremely uncomfortable and give you the extreme paranoia that they will not be enough coverage and at any moment with any movement or sudden sneeze you'll bleed over onto your clothes and walk around all day with blood stained trousers while everyone points and laughs at you.
- woman: sounds awful. what's my second option.
- society: a penis shaped wad of cotton that you shove uncomfortably inside yourself and it catches the blood before it leaves your body.
- woman: still seems pretty awful.
- society: wait! it gets better! there's the outside chance that using those will kill you!
- woman: well, are they at least free? like how men can have access to free condoms? i mean, it's not like i'm choosing for this to happen.
- society: HAHAHA! that's funny. no, you have to pay for them. and they're really fucking expensive.
- woman:
- society: oh, and if you tell anyone that you ARE on your period, your judgement, opinions, and reactions are going to be dismissed as the crazy ramblings of a lunatic.
- woman:
- society:
- woman: i think i'll go with my third option.
- society:
- woman:
- society: what third option?
- woman: i think i'll bleed on everything you love.
I thought it fit. Every track is notable.
(Source: starlina)
I don’t understand, why do I stress the man when there’s so many bigger things at hand? We could of never had it all, we had to hit a wall, so this is inevitable withdrawal.
The first day that I “met” you, I thought you were a little strange but not in a bad way. I knew that you were special because any dude who loves Amy Winehouse must be. I never thought that things would move as fast as they did or that you’d be such a genuinely beautiful person. I’m still afraid to say that I love you because I am not really sure if you’re real. I mean…I know you exist but I don’t know if this is real. We wait all our lives to find someone with these special set of traits that compliment who we are almost perfectly (there’s no such thing as perfect) and then it’s like, damn I found it, I found him, I found you. Granted we are not the most conventional couple but I have no doubt that you’re my match. We haven’t had sex yet but I’ve made love to you already. We haven’t held hands yet, but you’ve touched me already. I don’t know you very well but I know you better than you know yourself. Does that make sense? Thoughts that cross my mind when you’re not around: How is that someone else hasn’t snatched you up and taken you home to call you theirs? These bitches crazy. Our attraction is physically magnetic. Since I’ve met you I couldn’t imagine what a day would be like without you. I just want you to know, I’ve been waiting for you all my life.
