suzyqiloveyou

[suzyqiloveyou]

HOW TO DONATE TO BLM WHEN YOU HAVE NO MONEY

a black woman named zoe amira posted a video on youtube. this video is an hour long and filled with art and music from black creators. it has a ton of ads, and in result will rack up a ton of revenue. 100% of the ad revenue from the video will be dispersed between various blm organizations, including bail-out funds for protesters. it will be split between the following, dependent on necessity

brooklyn bail fund

minnesota freedom fund

atlanta action network

columbus freedom fund

louisville community bail fund

chicago bond

black visions collective

richmond community bail fund

the bail project inc

nw com bail fund

philadelphia bail fund

the korchhinski-parquet family gofundme

george floyd’s family gofundme

blacklivesmatter.com

reclaim the block

aclu

turn off your adblocker and put the video on repeat. do not skip ads. let it play on loop whether you’re listening or not. mute the tab if you need to focus elsewhere. but let. it. play.

youtube will donate to blm for you.

please, please reblog. for people who don’t have money to spare, this is incredibly important information to have.

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here is a google doc of resources to support george floyd, ahmaud arbery, roy stoddart, and the many, many, many other wrongfully murdered black people in the united states — as well as the black lives matter movement in general

please share this link or post to anyone and everyone

[suzyqiloveyou]

questions for my almost ex who has resurfaced during quarantine

1. you were the first (and only) man i felt 100% safe around. did i ever tell you that when we were almost together? 

2. the time i felt the most loved in my whole life was the last time we had sex. did you feel it too? 

3. why did you not even want to try being with me? 

4. how is it possible that the idea of a relationship was so intolerable to you but everything else we did was ok? 

5. did you figure out what’s wrong with me? 

6. i have this theory that something is truly wrong with me at my core and somehow you can only figure it out by having sex with me. did you feel it? 

7. was i too fat for you? this can be separate or related to the previous question.

8. i’m pretty sure i’m meant to be alone and that no one will love me the way someone is supposed to love someone else so how can i let you go if this is the best it ever gets for me? 

9. did you ever like me even a little bit? 

10. will you ever want me as much as i wanted you? 

[suzyqiloveyou]

1.01 | 8.06

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girlhood (2014)

#must watch #girlhood

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Occasionally I’ll be sitting somewhere and I’ll be listening to someone perhaps not saying the kindest things about me. And I’ll look down at my hand and I’ll sort of pinch my skin to make sure it still has the requisite thickness I know Eleanor Roosevelt expects me to have.

Hillary Clinton (x)

#hillary clinton #feminists have the right to be angry

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❝And to all the women, and especially the young women, who put their faith in this campaign and in me: I want you to know that nothing has made me prouder than to be your champion.

Now, I know we have still not shattered that highest and hardest glass ceiling, but someday someone will — and hopefully sooner than we might think right now. 

And to all of the little girls who are watching this, never doubt that you are valuable and powerful and deserving of every chance and opportunity in the world to pursue and achieve your own dreams.❞ —Hillary Clinton’s Concession Speech, 2016

#i am so sad

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i’m not being funny at all when i say i truly do not love men as a whole, nothing close, there are men that i care for in my life but on a general scale i’m indifferent and skeptical when it comes to men.

you can not teach girls to constantly be prepared and wary of rape, abuse and murder from men, blame them for their own abuse when they’re not, and then turn around and expect them to simultaneously love them, what kind of joke. 

#feminists have the right to be angry

[suzyqiloveyou]

Jack Shephard - Pilot (1.01) // The End (6.18)

requested by @high-finch

#god so great #lost

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I have chosen Gale and the rebellion. A future with Peeta is the Capitol’s design, not mine.

#guess the odds aren't exactly in my favor #thg #gale hawthorne

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We have a double standard, which is to say, a man can show how much he cares by being violent – see, he’s jealous, he cares – a woman shows how much she cares by how much she’s willing to be hurt; by how much she will take; how much she will endure.

Andrea Dworkin (via feministsorgnow)

#feminists have the right to be angry #Andrea Dworkin

[suzyqiloveyou]

The First Sleeper

One of the big themes in Blue Lily, Lily Blue was that of the three sleepers along the ley line. Of course, the third sleeper, the one not to be woken, proved to be a demon, and the middle sleeper was presumably Gwenllian, though in the closing chapters of Blue Lily Adam wonders if it might have been himself, in a metaphorical sense.

But what about the first sleeper?

After all, the characters assumed that it was Glendower all through the series, but The Raven King revealed that Glendower was dead, not sleeping, all along. So if it wasn’t Glendower, who was the first sleeper?

We were given the answer all the way back in Blue Lily, Lily Blue chapter 15. While communicating with Cabeswater, Adam draws three tarot cards, each representing one of the three sleepers: the Devil, for the demon, the Empress, for Gwenllian, and Death. What else—who else—does the Death card represent in this series?

Gansey. All the way back in the reading in The Raven Boys, he drew it as the card to represent himself. And after all, all times are equal on the ley line, so theoretically, Gansey was always sleeping on the ley line, throughout the entire series. And if you need more convincing:

Calla tells Blue that it’s her job, specifically, to wake one of the sleepers (BLLB ch17). And guess what Blue does at the end of The Raven King:

#crying #gansey #trc

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Intuition: I tried to make a home out of you but doors lead to trap doors, a stairway leads to nothing. Unknown women wander the hallways at night. Where do you go when you go quiet? You remind me of my father, a magician… able to exist in two places at once. In the tradition of men in my blood, you come home at 3 a.m. and lie to me. What are you hiding? The past and the future merge to meet us here. What luck. What a f*cking curse. Denial: I tried to change, closed my mouth more, tried to be soft, prettier, less awake. Fasted for 60 days, wore white, abstained from mirrors, abstained from sex, slowly did not speak another word. In that time my hair, I grew past my ankles. I slept on a mat on the floor. I swallowed a sword. I levitated. Went to the basement, confessed my sins, and was baptized in a river. I got on my knees and said amen and said I mean. I whipped my own back and asked for dominion at your feet. I threw myself into a volcano. I drank the blood and drank the wine. I sat alone and begged and bent at the waist for God. I crossed myself and thought I saw the devil. I grew thickened skin on my feet I bathed in bleach and plugged my menses with pages from the holy book, but still inside me, coiled deep, was the need to know… are you cheating on me? Cheating? Are you cheating on me? Anger: If it’s what you truly want… I can wear her skin over mine. Her hair over mine. Her hands as gloves. Her teeth as confetti. Her scalp, a cap. Her sternum, my bedazzled cane. We can pose for a photograph all three of us. Immortalized… you and your perfect girl. I don’t know when love became elusive. What I know is, no one I know has it. My father’s arms around my mother’s neck, fruit too ripe to eat. I think of lovers as trees… growing to and from one another. Searching for the same light. Why can’t you see me? Why can’t you see me? Why can’t you see me? Everyone else can. Apathy: So, what are you gonna say at my funeral now that you’ve killed me? Here lies the body of love of my life, whose heart I broke without a gun to my head. Here lies the mother of my children, both living and dead. Rest in peace, my true love, who I took for granted. Most bomb p*ssy who, because of me, sleep evaded. Her god listening. Her heaven will be a love without betrayal. Ashes to ashes, dust to side chicks. Emptiness: She sleeps all day. Dreams of you in both worlds. Tills the blood, in and out of uterus. Wakes up smelling of zinc, grief sedated by orgasm, orgasm heightened by grief. God was in the room when the man said to the woman, “I love you so much. Wrap your legs around me. Pull me in, pull me in, pull me in.” Sometimes when he’d have her nipple in his mouth, she’d whisper, “Oh, my God.” That, too, is a form of worship. Her hips grind, pestle and mortar, cinnamon and cloves. Whenever he pulls out… loss. Dear moon, we blame you for floods… for the flush of blood… for men who are also wolves. We blame for the night, for the dark, for the ghosts. Loss: Every fear… every nightmare… anyone has ever had. Accountability: You find the black tube inside her beauty case where she keeps your father’s old prison letters. You desperately want to look like her. You look nothing like your mother. You look everything like your mother. Film star beauty. How to wear your mother’s lipstick. You go to the bathroom to apply your mother’s lipstick. Somewhere no one can find you. You must wear it like she wears disappointment on her face. Your mother is a woman and women like her can not be contained. Mother dearest, let me inherent the earth. Teach me how to make him beg. Let me make up for the years he made you wait. Did he bend your reflection? Did he make you forget your own name? Did he convince you he was a god? Did you get on your knees daily? Do his eyes close like doors? Are you a slave to the back of his head? Am I talking about your husband or your father? Reformation: He bathes me until I forget their names and faces. I ask him to look me in the eye when I come home. Why do you deny yourself heaven? Why do you consider yourself undeserving? Why are you afraid of love? You think it’s not possible for someone like you. But you are the love of my life. You are the love of my life. You are the love of my life. Forgiveness: Baptize me… now that reconciliation is possible. If we’re gonna heal, let it be glorious. 1,000 girls raise their arms. Do you remember being born? Are you thankful for the hips that cracked? The deep velvet of your mother and her mother and her mother? There is a curse that will be broken. Resurrection: Something is missing. So many young women, they tell you, “I want me a hu — see, all them make me feel better than you.” So how we supposed to lead our children to the future? What do we do? How do we lead them? Love. L-O-V-E, love. Mm-mmm-mmm. Hallelujah, thank you, Jesus. I just love the Lord, I’m sorry, brother. I love the Lord, that’s all I got. When your back gets against the wall and your wall against your back, who you call? Hey! Who you call? Who you call? You gotta call Him. You gotta call Jesus. You gotta call Him. You gotta call Him ‘cause you ain’t got another hope. You are terrifying… and strange and beautiful. Magic. Hope: The nail technician pushed my cuticles back… turns my hand over, stretches the skin on my palm and says, “I see your daughters and their daughters.” That night in a dream, the first girl emerges from a slit in my stomach. The scar heals into a smile. The man I love pulls the stitches out with his fingernails. We leave black sutures curling on the side of the bath. I wake as the second girl crawls head first up my throat, a flower, blossoming out of the hole in my face. Redemption: Take one pint of water, add a half pound of sugar, the juice of eight lemons, the zest of half a lemon. Pour the water from one jug then into the other several times. Strain through a clean napkin. Grandmother, the alchemist, you spun gold out of this hard life, conjured beauty from the things left behind. Found healing where it did not live. Discovered the antidote in your own kit. Broke the curse with your own two hands. You passed these instructions down to your daughter who then passed it down to her daughter. I had my ups and downs, but I always find the inner strength to pull myself up. I was served lemons, but I made lemonade. My grandma said “Nothing real can be threatened.” True love brought salvation back into me. With every tear came redemption and my torturers became my remedy. So we’re gonna heal. We’re gonna start again. You’ve brought the orchestra, synchronized swimmers. You’re the magician. Pull me back together again, the way you cut me in half. Make the woman in doubt disappear. Pull the sorrow from between my legs like silk. Knot after knot after knot. The audience applauds… but we can’t hear them.

by Warsan Shire for Beyonce’s Lemonade album (I’m pretty sure all these words are by Warsan Shire, if they’re not let me know)

#amazing #beyonce #lemonade #warsan shire

[suzyqiloveyou]

Time interviewed Nicki Minaj as part of their ‘100 Most Influential People’ list. She dropped wisdom on black culture, equal pay, and being a mogul —  and praised one collaborator who always brings the power: “Whenever I do something with her, I can feel the impact online and in the venue.”

#nicki minaj #my idol #feminists have the right to be angry

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one thing that fucks me up about declan lynch is that for the most part not even the fandom appreciates him. like, we’ve got this guy, who maggie basically described as the one she wrote while distracting you with the shinier, more impressive lynch brother and that’s exactly how declan sees himself–the dull, the boring, the keeper. he’s not wild and magic like ronan, he’s normal. and he’s cripplingly lonely, he’s so lonely he can’t sleep or he’s so lonely he surrounds himself with people always to plug that emptiness he feels is rooted to the core of who he is. and the fandom doesn’t see him as any different? he is the less shiny, less interesting lynch brother, he is the one who keeps everything, he’s that asshole. but: yeah he can’t pull shit from his dreams but he keeps his family together, he tries. he does his best for his dead father who doesn’t even think he’s deserving of love, his own father doesn’t even see him as worth anyone’s time. and ugh. just, someone please love declan lynch. please.

#trc

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#men #joel kinnaman

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Amandla Stenberg accepts the Young Gifted and Black Award at Black Girls Rock

#amandla stenberg #amazing