The Latest

Laugh at the men who tell you you’re pretty. You are more than that.
Oct 20, 2014 / 18,921 notes
loki-has-a-tardis:

This is honestly the best poster I have found in a while supporting breast cancer awareness. I am honestly so sick of seeing, “set the tatas free” and “save the boobies”. There is no reason in hell a life threatening, life ruining disease should be sexualized. “Don’t wear a bra day,” go fuck yourselves. You’re not saving a pair of tits, you’re saving the entire package: mind, body, and soul included. Women are not just a pair of breasts.
Oct 19, 2014 / 247,725 notes

loki-has-a-tardis:

This is honestly the best poster I have found in a while supporting breast cancer awareness. I am honestly so sick of seeing, “set the tatas free” and “save the boobies”. There is no reason in hell a life threatening, life ruining disease should be sexualized. “Don’t wear a bra day,” go fuck yourselves. You’re not saving a pair of tits, you’re saving the entire package: mind, body, and soul included. Women are not just a pair of breasts.

(via tyleroakley)

James Michener was wrong when he called Bora Bora the most beautiful island on Earth.

People travel to French Polynesia, sail the South Pacific, adore the lagoon and barrier reef, but are yet to wake up next to you in solidarity, just you, a tiny paradise.

I don’t have to travel to the coast of Queensland, Australia to dive into the most stunning reef system in the world, when I can dive into whatever you’re hiding inside you. I’m sure I’ll find more fascinating things than sea-dragons and crocodiles in your oceanic glory.

The Winged Victory of Samonthrace doesn’t stand a chance against you running for history’s greatest masterpiece.

Art aficionados are yet to witness and worship the way you prance around in your sundress in the corn fields.

The way your eyelashes flutter when you’re tired is more interesting than the ancient artifacts in Lascauz caves.

You’re shut off to the public, just like the caves. But just like the caves, it’s to protect the paintings that take a pew inside you.

Da Vinci settled with La Gioconda since he couldn’t find you trapped in a different century.

Slack-jawed sightseers and a bulletproof glass, you and Mona Lisa have more in common than you think.

History turns to Helen of Troy to be the most beautiful woman to have lived, but her existence has no proof, but yours does.

Your beauty is deemed so divine in my eyes, you could embody the Goddess Aphrodite.

I’m not be as heavenly as Ganymede to be abducted by Zeus to be his lover, but I know you, and I know Zeus would have chosen you over Ganymede if he would have been blessed with the privilege to be breathing and existing in the same era as you.

William Wordsworth wrote that Earth has not anything to show fairer than London’s Westminster Bridge. I disagree. Life is fair in the sense that it gave me you. All of you, the raw you.

Endearingly, India’s Taj Mahal doesn’t dazzle with as much rawness as you.

You dazzle like King Tut’s mask. The mask you wear to protect yourself from the barbaric world that you miserably shut off with an unseen light switch.

Your mask may not be 10 kg of solid gold, but it’s crafted tougher with stones much more glorious and unknown to mankind.

And when Giraldus Combrensis said The Book of Kells was the work of an angel, he meant to say your story. You’re unmistakably more heavenly than Ireland’s prime national treasure.

When Monet created his gardens at Giverny just so he could paint them, he was waiting for a man to top it with something more beautiful for a girl who already had the paintings growing inside her.

Water-garden, wisteria, willows, water lilies; I can do better.

Madison Goldbeck
Knotted Flower Stems

7/2014

(via ardentlymag)

Oct 19, 2014 / 2 notes
With a knife thicker than my objectivity, you slit opened my chest with a hole small enough to stick your fingers through. That’s what you did. Opened up my chest and wiggled your index finger in so you could poke at my heart. Through your child play, you shredded at my skin and made the hole bigger and bigger and bigger until all I could do was bleed out. Snickering with a blood-stained smile, you spiral up your staircase of unproblematic nights while I squeeze a 99 cent towel to my cognizance.
Madison Goldbeck (via nativebornliar)
Oct 19, 2014 / 2 notes
I’m charmed by the fact that loving someone sinfully has the same name as a brilliant shade of red.
Madison Goldbeck
1/29/2014

(via ardentlymag)
Oct 19, 2014 / 1 note
Oct 17, 2014 / 289,452 notes

(via 0newishh)

Oct 17, 2014 / 204,480 notes
extrarouge:

me
Oct 17, 2014 / 48,622 notes

extrarouge:

me

(via 0newishh)

Oct 17, 2014 / 112,161 notes

(via 0newishh)

Oct 16, 2014 / 222,784 notes

(via laughbitches)