A lovely & brown 20-something year old living life as happy as possible. Chronically ill/disabled, ridiculous artisan soapmaker, writer and all around hopeful human being.
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gradientlair:

EPIC moment during the awesome #BlackFemMusic conversation that I was one of the contributors to yesterday. @FeministaJones shoutout Missy’s contribution to Black feminism through music and @MissyElliott herself responds? Goodness; awesome! 

Missy Elliott’s music was CRITICAL to my high school and college years. She definitely is on the “coming of age” Black woman empowerment soundtrack that resides in my heart and ears. Her messages of self-esteem, subverting Eurocentric beauty norms, confidence, creativity, joy, pain, reflection, sexual agency, choice and pleasure and so much more are everything. Her work with Timbaland and the late beautiful and talented Aaliyah is everything. But even off the stage so to speak, Missy has done work. She has a past of being a spokesperson, speaking out against domestic violence, something personal to her childhood experience. Her music has always made me feel not only empowered but really happy. Joy is not antithetical to feminism. I recall some serious dancing to her music in college on the weekends and it was always a blast with my friends who were mostly Black women. 

One thing I really love is that her music seems like it is for any Black woman (and anyone who loves good music) and never made me feel like it hinged on “respectability" no matter how some fans like her only as an "alternative" or "rejection" of Black women that they do not deem "respectable" enough. She regularly diverted that rigidity and sang/rapped whatever she wanted. Her vision, creativity and influence have a ripple effect not just in Black feminist politics but in music itself.

Her long list of accomplishments speaks for itself and I feel incredibly honored that she noticed our conversation on Black feminism and music and had this exchange with @FeministaJones, who is so awesome herself.

This Missy moment here is just everything to me. Oh and the final image in this series? That’s Missy’s Twitter background image. She’s EVERYTHING.

(via vampirefinch)

typewrittenreality asked: You're so pretty :)

Thank you! You’re beautiful yourself!

Anonymous asked: I saw you talk about how you are deathly ill. I dont know if youve said whats wrong. You completely dont have to if you dont feel comfortable. I was just wondering what you are ill with? Im sorry if this is rude. Feel free to tell me to f off.

I’m not deathly ill now.
It was an easy misunderstanding. Recently, I was wondering why I didn’t die when I was deathly ill which was a few years ago.
I am chronically ill though. As in, different levels of ill at all times. I haven’t been deathly ill for a bit (it was about 4 years ago).
I have a tag in this blog where you can go back and read the story of how it all happened, etc.
I have been diagnosed with CFIDS & Fibromyalgia.
As for the back story on when I was deathly ill, it’s pretty long and hard for me to talk about so, I recommend if you’re really interested to click on the tag chronic illness (within my blog, as in view it outside of dashboard) and go back and find when I wrote details.
Thanks for approaching it politely though.

reina-de-tierra asked: I think you are beautiful and even more so for embracing your curves! Fuck anon, your lovely 💕

Gracias :] I can understand some of that anger from folks though but in this instance, I didn’t do shit but exist lol
Curvy y pequeñit@ pride hahaha

Bed time! Just killing time while some cop show down is going on right outside. Sirens & “this is your last warning!” 
Sheesh, I want to sleep! 
No makeup, my Shea butter lip balm, remnants of a face mask I just noticed near my chin, and soothing meditation mix on the headphones.

Bed time! Just killing time while some cop show down is going on right outside. Sirens & “this is your last warning!”
Sheesh, I want to sleep!
No makeup, my Shea butter lip balm, remnants of a face mask I just noticed near my chin, and soothing meditation mix on the headphones.

I feel weird about that last ask.

I’m currently a 12/14 and I’m definitely not thin. I’m curvy but I can understand the frustration people who are much bigger feel in seeing smaller plus sized folks on specifically fat positive blogs.

I just don’t have control if a blog takes a pic set of mine.

Anonymous asked: No offense but you aren't fat and I'm so tired of busty chicks on fat positive blogs. You're not fat the end.

………

This is the second message I’ve gotten like this, maybe same person?

Either way, let me make clear that fat positive blogs are run by all sorts of folks and it’s not up to me if my pics get reblogged.

I don’t consider myself fat, I am curvy & petite. I have not claimed fat identity and I’m not trying to say I am/need to take space in that.

I really don’t know how else to respond to this.

My blood is alive with many voices
telling me I am made of longing.

— Rainer Maria Rilke, from The Book Of Hours (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via decolonizeyourmind)

Art journal update. Half a page, not done. Working with the very expensive and traditional medium of crayons ;]

Art journal update. Half a page, not done. Working with the very expensive and traditional medium of crayons ;]

arabamolsamontgiymezdim:

Vietnam by  Le Quang Thai

arabamolsamontgiymezdim:

Vietnam by  Le Quang Thai

April is the cruelest month, breeding
lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
memory and desire, stirring
dull roots with spring rain.

— T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land (via traumachu)

(Source: petrichour, via howlandshout)

Anonymous asked: You don't look 26

Thanks? I’m not sure what this means.

That there 
That’s not me 
I go 
Where I please 

I walk through walls 
I float down the Liffey 
I’m not here 
This isn’t happening 
I’m not here 
I’m not here 

In a little while 
I’ll be gone 
The moment’s already passed 
Yeah it’s gone 
And I’m not here 
This isn’t happening 
I’m not here 
I’m not here 

Strobe lights and blown speakers 
Fireworks and hurricanes 
I’m not here 
This isn’t happening 
I’m not here 
I’m not here

These past few weeks have been filled with so much heartbreak, soul ache, life path searching and diving in to my own deep wells that it’s been hard to be present in the moment.

I’ve taken two trips now to the marina alone. Sitting there on the bench at the very edge where the road winds, I’ve been attempting to find my peace with what is and is not.

Why? It’s a vast question I’ve been asking myself and coming up short on any true answers.

Why do I love in such a deep rooted sense, why do I have such problems letting go?

Why does it make me feel like I am revolting inside to settling in to living simply and accepting my abilities for what they are?

Why am I still here? Why didn’t I die that day and since I survived it all, how come I feel the way I do now?

Why am I feeling like I lack purpose?

There are so many things I will not be getting full answers to for a long time. I am grateful for the moments I have had on this beautiful earth and I look forward to so many more.

I am trying my best to be accepting and present of my sadness, my fears, my joys, my hopes, my desires, my love and the fact that I need to be held and protected in so many ways (so very often). 

Dejenme llorar because I just don’t give a fuck whose watching anymore.