+Speech Path Grad student
+Former goth kid
+Sorority girl
My DG blog is at: anchorsandsunshine.tumblr.com



"i was born in the wrong century," the girl sighs as she imagines a future where women have full ownership of their own bodies

Pleasantly surprised where this went


Running into closeted homosexuals from high school at the gay club:


when I was six years old and playing with a doll house and a girl asked me why the sides of my thumbs were jagged, and I told her that I dropped a knife while making toast instead of telling her how I did it every time I felt nervous (which I counted; it could range from once every seventeen seconds to only twelve times a day), I did not feel poetic.

when I was ten and my friends bailed on me to go ice skating and left me alone in the school yard and I resorted to pretending I had really bad hayfever so I could cry in my room without my mother questioning me later on that day, I did not feel poetic.

when I was twelve and I couldn’t breathe because I had no idea what I was doing with my life after leaving primary school and I thought that I had no meaning for anything, I felt like an oddball because nobody else was having an existential crisis. I felt like I should be seventy years old. I did not feel the youth in my bones. I did not feel poetic.

and even now, when I have to stop myself every so often and tell myself to breathe so I don’t work myself up in a state where I can’t breathe properly and end up entirely overwhelmed, and even now, when I stutter over the start of most of my sentences even though I feel the word I want to say clawing at my throat, I do not feel special. I do not feel cute. I do not feel poetic.

so please, tell me: why do you insist on making what has messed up most of my life into a fairytale? there never was, and never will be, anything lovely about not feeling like a human being; just bitter acceptance that will come in time, along with reassurance in that I’ll be able to live with the fact that it happened - and that things have changed - but I will still feel those things, and they will never be tied to any form of romance. don’t make this into a love story.

—Romanticization: A Clouded Definition (via deathlusted)

(Source: theone8888)



a restaurant in my hometown got a review that said the servers should “show some skin” so the owner added a potato skin special to the menu and all the proceeds from the special go to the west virginia foundation for rape information services (x)

That’s exactly the appropriate response.



You need to understand this.

Although I have a lot of followers, I have a really good memory for people. If you sent me a sweet message, if you added a cool comment to one of my posts, or if you just reblog my stuff all the time, I probably remember your face/avatar/url and smile to myself every time I see you in my activity tab.

This is just what i needed right now

Anonymous asked:

So you apparently hate men. Is this over on your secret, other blog or something?


It’s all very hush hush. 

I’m secretly involved in a scheme that involves sending the entirety of the male gender to the moon. All of them. Every last one. No exceptions. Even my brother has to go. Sorry Dan, I know you’re my favourite person and all, but you’ve inadvertently brought on my wrath with the pure audacity of  being male. My dad’s off too. And my grandfather. All of them. 

I’m just wicked to the core. A true evil of our times. 

I’m surprised I’ve managed to remain undetected for this long to be honest. 

But rest assured, one day Laverne Cox will preside over our democratic matriarchal society. The colour blue will be outlawed. We’re going to have to chemically alter the sky, but that’s fine. Without the men to support we’ll have the funds. 

If you’re interested in helping out with the whole ‘Send-Em- To- The- Big- Cheese-In-The- Sky’ scheme, then go outside next full moon dressed in baby pink from head to toe, spin around three times, click your heels together and whisper: “It’s all satire, none of it’s real, none of it, get it together for the love of God…”

We will be listening. 





when im a parent i won’t take my kid’s electronics when they get in trouble i’ll just take the charger so i can watch the fear in their eyes as they use it less and less while the battery slowly begins to run out

Stop right there, Satan.


And how do we cure them [them meaning people part of the LGBTQIAP community]

—Master’s student in Clinical Mental Health Counseling with a previous bachelor’s degree in Psychology at a class about counseling multicultural and diverse populations; the prior requirement for taking this class is a class called Ethical, Legal, and Professional Issues in Counseling, which discusses how “conversion treatment” is against our code of ethics, diverse associations (medical and mental health ones) are against it, and trying such thing can get your license revoked.  (via shitrichcollegekidssay)

I don’t know how I feel about this. 




"I felt so angry at the UCSB massacre and the sexism we’re blind to everyday so I drew about my opinions on sexism to channel my rage."
Source http://rasenth.tumblr.com/post/86791553337/i-felt-so-angry-at-the-ucsb-massacre-an-article


Reblogging this again because…. Well just look at it


tfw when you thought you already came out to someone and you mention it offhand and they’re like “what”




do you ever get in those moods where you don’t feel like reading and you don’t feel like being on the internet and you don’t feel like watching a show and you don’t feel like sleeping and you don’t feel like existing in general


It’s in words

(Source: inactive-ughjohnwatson)