Something for the Stars

p-alindrome:

let me just say a few things about ‘all about that bass’ real quick

  1. it’s a song about body positivity and we don’t get many of those so can we just take that into consideration please
  2. i know people are kicking off about her using the phrase “skinny bitches” but she does follow it up with "no, i’m just playing i know you think you’re fat / but i’m here to tell you that / every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top"  she’s taken an insult commonly given to slim women and basically a said so what if you are skinny/skinny but you think you’re fat, YOU’RE STILL PERFECT 
  3. i’ve seen shit loads of people saying it makes them feel more confident, and slim women get a ton of media reinforcing the idea that their body is perfect anyway
  4. IT’S CATCHY AS FUCK 
Each thing (a mirror’s face, let us say) was infinite things, since I distinctly saw it from every angle of the universe. I saw the teeming sea; I saw daybreak and nightfall; I saw the multitudes of America; I saw a silvery cobweb in the center of a black pyramid; I saw a splintered labyrinth (it was London); I saw, close up, unending eyes watching themselves in me as in a mirror; I saw all the mirrors on earth and none of them reflected me.
The Aleph, Jorge Luis Borges  (via mirroir)
His hands shake something furious,
and you don’t know how to stop them,
don’t know if they belong to a killer or a lover,
or if there’s even a difference anymore.

His shadow dances with yours
in the streetlights;
your darkness has found a kindred spirit,
but you are still trying
to take the fear from his mouth.

Demons and angels are at war inside of him,
and you swear to love every single one,
swear to love him wicked,
swear to love him holy.

He is licking prayers
he stopped believing
into your mouth;
if you thought kissing him
would save him,
you were dead wrong.
Emily Palermo, On Loving A Monster  (via jaimelannister)
You’ll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes, tearing apart, piece by piece, all of your carefully conceived denials, whether deliberate or unconscious. And then for better or worse you’ll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you’ve got to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried in the nameless black of a name.
And then the nightmares will begin.
Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves (via camilla-macauley)
I don’t understand I was fine three minutes ago and now everything is crashing around me and the walls of my heart are breaking and oh god I wish my veins were too
12:24 a.m. ( kisssofinsanity )
I always imagine them at nightfall, in the dusk of a slum or a vacant lot, in that long, quiet moment when things are gradually left alone, with their backs to the sunset, and when colors are like memories or premonitions of other colors. We must not be too prodigal with our angels; they are the last divinities we harbor, and they might fly away.
Jorge Luis Borges, “A History of Angels” (via mirroir)

teaparties:

[3/10] the waves by virginia woolf

"I see nothing. We may sink and settle on the waves. The sea will drum in my ears. The white petals will be darkened with sea water. They will float for a moment and then sink. Rolling over the waves will shoulder me under. Everything falls in a tremendous shower, dissolving me."