colasynne

[colasynne]

i never talk about these things but i can’t remain silent.

i know tumblr doesn’t give a SHIT when things happen in countries outside the “most popular ones” (such as the usa & england). it’s true, don’t lie to me. y’all don’t give A FUCK. not every issue and problem in said countries gets the appropriate exposure but in general shit shows up on the news WORLD FREAKING  WIDE. you set up donations, you help out, your spread the word, you say “pray for x”……

southern europe is burning. 

my country is burning.

people are dying - at home, on the road, trying to run away, in their cars.

yesterday my country had 300 active fires.

people are losing EVERYTHING they own.

i have a friend that is on a train right now passing through places that have been burnt to the ground and she says the smoke is so intense it’s getting inside the train and she can barely breathe.

and yet, even though several people (myself included) have been trying to bring awareness to what has been happening in southern europe… what we get from most of you, those not part of the countries suffering, is silence. we don’t ask for money, we don’t ask for shit other than a reblog to spread awareness… something you can delete in 24/48hrs if you wish. 

i don’t know what to tell you. i’m angry. i’m frustrated. i’m disappointed. i feel like i’m screaming into the void. “a reblog does nothing” - you know that’s a damn lie, you know exposure always helps, you know people start paying attention when posts on social media become popular. my country in particular is a small one, we get ZERO exposure. y’all are only starting to figure out we even fucking exist bc of the shit we’ve been winning lately. 

but hell, if the EU doesn’t give a shit, why should some user on tumblr dot com?

again, i don’t know what to tell you so i’ll let the images speak for themselves: 

An image captured by a Nasa satellite shows a thick plume of smoke blowing southward from the Greek island of Chios over the island of Crete

Torneros de Jamuz, Spain

Duca, Croatia

A helicopter from Italy’s civil protection service drops water on a fire near the railway between Venice and Trieste

Residents take refuge on the beach as a wildfire burns on the mountain next to the village of Lithi, on the Greek island of Chios

Men gather cattle during a forest fire in Vieira de Leiria, Marinha Grande, Portugal.

Charred trees are seen on the hills above the Cloister of Thivaidas on Mount Athos, a World Heritage Site in Greece

Portugal

[colasynne]

This fucking site: hey net neutrality is about to die :((( please help us :(((( boost and rb everything you see even if you’re not American :((((((((( we’ll have no wifi :(((((( we need you!!!! :((((

Non-Americans: okay

Non-Americans: hey greece is basically on fire, 150 people are wounded, 53 are killed and our nature is being destroyed. we’re suspecting arson. can you please reblog some posts and help spread awareness?

This fucking site:

[colasynne]

Dot by dot, star by star…

[colasynne]

Amazing posters from the Australian Human Rights Commission’s “Know the Line” campaign which aims to prevent and reduce the harm of sexual harassment in Australian workplaces. 

Check their page out at https://knowtheline.humanrights.gov.au/ 

[colasynne]

You’re a regular office worker born with the ability to “see” how dangerous a person is with a number scale of 1-10 above their heads. A toddler would be a 1, while a skilled soldier with a firearm may score a 7. Today, you notice the reserved new guy at the office measures a 10.

[colasynne]

can we just talk about the time that Lupin was recovering from a full moon and Snape taught the DADA class and made all the students write essays on how to kill werewolves for Lupin to read when he got back I hate Snape so much it’s not funny

[colasynne]

Resources for Male Victims of Abuse

How to Recognize Abuse

**Emotional Abuse of Men

**Sexual Assault of Men and Boys

**Men Can Be Victims of Abuse, Too

**Domestic Violence Against Men - Know the Signs

**Information for Male Survivors of Sexual Abuse

**Help for Battered Men

**Battered Men, Battered Husbands

**For Male Survivors of Rape and Sexual Abuse

**Male Survivors of Incest and Sexual Child Abuse

**Help for Men Who Are Being Abused

Help Lines (Phone and Text Chat)

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233 (or 1-800-787-3224 for TTY)

National Dating Abuse Hotline: 1-866-331-9474

National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-237-8255

Domestic Abuse Helpline for Men: 1-888-743-5754 (US and Canada)

Hopeline Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-784-2433

National Hotline for Victims of Crimes: 1-855-484-2846

National Human Trafficking Hotline: 1-888-373-7888

Polaris Human Trafficking Text Line: Text “BEFREE” to 233733

**1in6/RAINN Chat for Male Survivors of Sexual Abuse

Support Groups

**1in6 Support Groups

Male Survivor Support Groups

Pandora’s Aquarium - Chat (includes chats specifically for men)

Pandora’s Aquarium - Forums (includes forums specifically for men)

How to Find a Shelter

Domestic Shelters Search (shelter locator with filters to find shelters specifically for male survivors)

SAFE (located in Austin, TX, but states they can help people find resources/shelters in their area)

How to Find a Therapist

**Male Survivor Therapist Directory

Mental Health Services Locator

Resources for and About the Abuse of Kids/Teens

Love is Respect Hotline: 1-866-331-9474 (Hotline for teens)

Darkness to Light Helpline (Sexual Abuse): 1-866-367-5444

Darkness to Light Text Line: Text “LIGHT” to 741741

ChildHelp USA National Child Abuse Hotline: 1-800-422-4453

Children of the Night Hotline (Children in Prostitution): 1-800-551-1300

National Runaway Safeline: 1-800-786-2929

Covenant House Nineline (Homeless Youth): 1-800-999-9999

Stop it Now Hotline: 1-888-773-2362 (for adults concerned about the welfare of a child)

Jennifer Ann’s Group (for teens experiencing dating violence)

Other Resource Lists 

(While I tried to include the most helpful resources I could here (i.e., resources that lend themselves to one-on-one communication, individual reading, etc.), there are plenty of other great resources, including regional resources, listed in these links. Some of the resources are specific to men and others aren’t, but they are all helpful for male survivors.)

**Male Survivor (regional, international, and online resources)

**Husband Battering: Men and Domestic Violence

**Help for Battered Men: Online Resources

**Help for Battered Men: National and International Resources

**Help for Guys: Help for Victims (some resources for men, many general resources)

[colasynne]

“because a 16 year old girl who had her first orgasm whilst getting raped, had to watch her 34 year old rapist go free because she had an orgasm.

because when one of my guy friends told me and some friends he got raped by a woman when he was 12, a “friend” laughed at him and told him he should be happy he got laid that young.

because my 17 year old friend’s parents let her 14 year old brother roam the streets until 12am, but she has to be home by 10.

Because my brothers girlfriend, told the police she was raped and fell pregnant but the rapist didn’t get jail time as she got an abortion and the ‘evidence’ was gone.

because a guy from my old school was raped by another guy, but because he’s gay, they said it wasn’t considered rape.

because a 19 year old lesbian got raped by a guy, and he didn’t go to prison because he said “he only tried to turn her straight so she would be accepted by her parents”.

because in some cultures, girls (and boys, of course) still get thrown out of the family because somebody sexually assaulted them.

because they’re still teaching girls to walk faster at night instead of teaching boys that they shouldn’t rape.

Because they’re teaching kids that they’re only male rapists and not female rapists too.

because I have to explain why rape makes me mad.“

[colasynne]

When Your Number Is Called

My name is Courtney, and I was born at 5:15 AM on October 26th, 1988.  When I was born my parents didn’t ask the doctor if I was a boy or a girl, or if I was healthy. Instead they asked, “what’s the number?”

The room braced for the doctor’s answer.  My parents held each other close, both openly crying as they prayed for good news.  “Her number is…” started the doctor, flipping my right wrist over and reading the black numbers that spread across it.  “152310232048.”

My parents cried in relief.  

I would live a good life.  

I had a good number.

You see, in my world, everyone is born with a 12-digit number on their right wrist.  What does the number mean exactly?  Well—the number gives us the day we die.  We don’t know how we will die, but we will—at that exact time.  Think of it like the expiration date you see on a jug of milk.  After the expiration date, you throw away the milk, right?  Well, that is what the marks on our wrists mean.  We obviously don’t get thrown away in the trash, but we cease to exist after that date.  And just like that jug of milk buried in some landfill, we too will be buried in the ground.

My number is 152310232048.

Which means that at 3:23 PM on October 23rd, 2048—I will die.  

I will live to be 59 years old.  

I have a good number.  It isn’t the best number.  My brother is going to live to be 88. My parents, couldn’t believe it when the doctor read his number out loud.  He will live 29 years longer than me.  He will see so much more than me, experience so much more than me.  He might even live to see his great-great grandchildren—I’ll be lucky to see my grandchildren.    

I sometimes get jealous when I see his number.  

But this is my life.  

I can’t change my number.  

It is permanent.  

Medicine, money, and miracles do not change your number. You can certainly die earlier then your number, but to die before your number is rare.  People just tend to be more careful.  After all, when you are constantly walking around with a literal reminder of your time left on earth on your wrist, you tend appreciate the life you have a little more.

I have a good number.  

I’m reminded of this when I see other people’s number.  

The first time this happened was when I was 5 years old.

On my first day of school, I was in kindergarten and I’ve never really interacted with any other kids besides my older cousins. I was nervous, so when recess was called, I decided to go to the swings.  Anyone who liked swings as much as me—well, they were cool in my book.    

On my way to an open swing a wild boy with a dinosaur shirt, and brown eyes full of mischief, performed a back flip off the swings and nearly knocked me over in his crash landing.  He jumped up, dusted off his pants and smiled at me and said, “My names Devon, and I am going to live to be 57.”

It was such a typical kid way of introducing themselves.  Adults tended to be more secretive of their numbers.  Wearing watches, or long-sleeved shirts to cover up their numbers, but five year olds—we didn’t understand the concept of subtlety. 

Clearly.

Another body quickly landed next to him, this one thankfully on their feet.  It was a red-haired girl, with two perfectly braided pig tails.  “My names Fiona, and I’m going to live to be 62.” 

Another body landed next to her.  He stumbled a bit on his landing, and his glasses fell down the bridge of his nose as he found his balance.  “Hi, I’m Oscar,” he smiled, shaking his long brown hair out of his eyes as he pushed his glasses up his nose.  “I’m going to live to be 17.”

Mind you—we were in kindergarten.  We were literally learning our ABC’s, learning how to tie our shoes, and zip up our coats, but the concept of numbers—that we didn’t need to learn.  Our parents made sure we knew what our number was, and what their number was, and what grandma’s number was—numbers were literally ingrained into our minds, much like the literal numbers that adorned our wrists.  

Which meant even at 5 years old, I knew that Oscar—well Oscar, had a bad number.  

It must have showed on my face because the boy—a boy who I didn’t even know, hugged me.  And as he squeezed me, he said, “It’s okay,” before pulling back and smiling.  “My dad’s say that seventeen is plenty of time. They said it is isn’t about how high your number is—but it’s about what you do with the number you get.”

Looking back now, as an adult thinking about having my own child—I’d probably say the same thing to my child if they were born with a bad number.  What else can you do?  You can’t change your child’s number.  You can’t give your child more time, no matter how much you wish you could take the numbers off your wrist and place them on your child’s—you just can’t. Your job as a parent is to protect your children, but you can’t protect them from the inevitable, so instead, you give them something else.

Oscar’s dads gave him hope.  

His dads were great people.  I grew close to them as we progressed through school because obviously, Oscar, Fiona and Devon and me—we became best friends after the day on the swings.  We called our group “The Swingers,” much to the embarrassment of our parents.  We didn’t understand why they didn’t like our group nickname when we were young, but we finally understood when we were 15—and thanks to the internet, we learned exactly what “swingers” were. But even after learning the sexual nature of our group nickname, we still kept it, because honestly, what teenagers didn’t like tormenting their parents?

“Courtney where are you going?  It’s late!”

“Dad said I can go to Oscar’s house!”

“And what will you be doing at Oscar’s house?”

“God mom—we are just having a swinger party, can I go now?”

The look of embarrassment on my parent’s face was always perfect—especially in public.

Speaking of Oscar’s house.  His house became the “hang out” spot for us four.  Mostly because his dads had an awesome basement, and his dad Jerry was professional Chef, which meant we ate good there.  But back to Oscar’s dads—they were awesome.  They adopted Oscar when he was just an infant.  His mother gave him up when she saw his number.  It was an epidemic in our world.  Foster homes were full of children with bad numbers.  

But Oscar’s dads, they didn’t see his number.  They just saw Oscar.  This happy, intelligent, beautiful blue-eyed child who just so happened to be destined to die young.  They didn’t see his number—instead they just saw Oscar.

Devon, Fiona, and I—we only saw Oscar too.  

Most of the kids in our class didn’t really attempt to get to know Oscar, because honestly, what was the point?  He wouldn’t be around for long.  So, it was the four of us—for as long as we had the four of us.

We laughed.

We cried.

We fought.

We experienced our first kisses.

We loved.

We had our hearts broken.

We got drunk once—never again.

We got high—more than once.

We just lived.

“The Swingers” lived every day to the fullest—until the day came when four was about to become three.  Oscar’s day would land just a few weeks before our Senior graduation. We always knew his number, but it never seemed real until it came so close to the actual date on our calendar.

Oscar took accelerated courses so that he could graduate before—his number came up.  The school planned a graduation ceremony just for him the day before his number.  His dad’s and his extended family fills the stands, the rest of his class sit in the chairs, the very same chairs they will soon fill in a couple of weeks when the class of 2007 would all walk together.  The principal called out Oscar’s name, and he stepped up to the microphone.  

Oscar was the school Val Victorian.  He stayed late after school, he studied well into the night, he worked hard—so hard, that his dedication to his studies really got in the way of “swinger” time.  One day, after another late night of not seeing Oscar because he was studying for a Chemistry test, I yelled at him. “It is just a Chemistry test Oscar! If you get a B, it won’t be the end of the world!”

Oscar barely blinked an eye at my outburst, instead, much like that day in front of the swings—he pulled me into a hug. “Look, this is the only time I have to be great,” he said.  “I don’t get anything after this.  So, if this is all I get—I’m going to be the best.”

And he did.  

He became the best.

A 4.0 grade point average

An SAT score of 1560.

And he never filled out a single college application.

Oscar cleared his throat in front of the microphone, garnering everyone’s attention.  “Thank you for everyone who came today.  It means a lot, to me. Very much like my life, I’m going to keep this speech short.”

Gasps echoed through the gym and Oscar smiled.

“That was not meant to be a joke.  Please don’t think that I am making light of the fact that tomorrow is my number.  Instead, I say that I will keep this speech short—because I think the world tends to greatly underestimate the power of something short.”

“My mother gave me up for adoption when I was only 1 minute old.  As soon as the doctor read my number, she signed over custody of me to the state.   I always wondered, how can I be judged of my quality of life, before I’ve even taken my first shit.”

Laughter echoed from the students, gasps echoed from the parents, and grumbles of disapproval echoed from the teacher’s and administration. But Oscar just smiled, as he looked back at the principal.  “Feel free to give me a detention this weekend for cussing,” he joked, earning another chuckle from the students.  

“She was wrong—by the way,” continued Oscar, his gaze going back out to the gym.  “Anyone who ever stared at my number, and looked at me with sadness—you were wrong. I have lived—not as long as our parents and not as long as you all will live—but make no mistake, I have lived.  My life may have been short, but it doesn’t mean it has been any less significant as someone who lived well into their 80’s.”

Taking in a breath, he gave his parents and then the swingers a shaky smile. “Every second of every single day for the past seventeen years—have been lived to the fullest because simply, I didn’t have the time to waste.  Every moment of my life has counted, cherished and loved—can you say the same thing about yours?”

Oscar died on 2:13 PM on March 16th, 2007.

Like his number said, he lived to be 17.

He had a bad number

But he didn’t let his number define him.

Instead he lived every day, until his number was called.

**This is a short story that just came to me after watching an incredibly sad movie about a woman dying of cancer.  While the movie was sad, I couldn’t help but notice that she never really started living until she found out she was dying.  Which then made me wonder, how would a person live if they knew when from the moment they were born, when they were going to die?  

Which then of course prompted this short story!**

[colasynne]

not being really overweight but not being thin is a weird place because you never look quite as good as your friends and you’re in that spot that everyone tells you “you’re not fat!” but doesn’t want to say you’re thin and no matter if your weight shifts you always sort of look the same to yourself and in some situations you can hide your appearance but in others its alarmingly obvious, and buying clothes is like a luck of the draw as to if you’ll look thin or huge because it feels like there isn’t an in between 

[colasynne]

Don’t tell your daughter that when a boy is mean or rude to her it’s because he has a crush on her. Don’t teach her that abuse is a sign of love.

[colasynne]

omg I’m doing research for one of projects for college, and apparently, girls learn better when they’re in an all girls class, but boys learn even worse when they’re in an all boys class, because all the negative things become even stronger of there are no girls to act as “buffer”

get rid of the boys and let girl learn in peace, i couldn’t care less about them

[colasynne]

I’m with this movement!  

[colasynne]

anyone please ask your crush out like this

[colasynne]

40+ year old men who seriously believe the young girls working at stores and restaurants are actually flirting with them just because the girls smile and are friendly are the most disgusting and terrifying things on this planet.

[colasynne]

I rarely criticize my wife, but when I do, it’s spoken directly to her, in private, and with love.

I don’t speak negatively about my wife to other people. Not because she’s perfect (which is an impossible and unfair standard) but because she deserves a husband she can trust. To say anything about my wife that I wouldn’t say to her face, would be a betrayal of that trust.

I never want her to spend a single moment worrying about the way I talk about her when she’s not around.

[colasynne]

THROUGH A RAPIST’S EYES” (PLS TAKE TIME TO READ THIS. It may save a life, It may save your life.)

An Article from Neena Susan Thomas

“Through a rapist’s eyes. A group of rapists and date rapists in prison were interview…ed on what they look for in a potential victim and here are some interesting facts:

1] The first thing men look for in a potential victim is hairstyle. They are most likely to go after a woman with a ponytail, bun! , braid, or other hairstyle that can easily be grabbed. They are also likely to go after a woman with long hair. Women with short hair are not common targets.

2] The second thing men look for is clothing. They will look for women who’s clothing is easy to remove quickly. Many of them carry scissors around to cut clothing.

3] They also look for women using their cell phone, searching through their purse or doing other activities while walking because they are off guard and can be easily overpowered.

4] The number one place women are abducted from / attacked at is grocery store parking lots.

5] Number two is office parking lots/garages.

6] Number three is public restrooms.

7] The thing about these men is that they are looking to grab a woman and quickly move her to a second location where they don’t have to worry about getting caught.

8] If you put up any kind of a fight at all, they get discouraged because it only takes a minute or two for them to realize that going after you isn’t worth it because it will be time-consuming.

9] These men said they would not pick on women who have umbrellas,or other similar objects that can be used from a distance, in their hands.

10] Keys are not a deterrent because you have to get really close to the attacker to use them as a weapon. So, the idea is to convince these guys you’re not worth it.

POINTS THAT WE SHOULD REMEMBER:

1] If someone is following behind you on a street or in a garage or with you in an elevator or stairwell, look them in the face and ask them a question, like what time is it, or make general small talk: can’t believe it is so cold out here, we’re in for a bad winter. Now that you’ve seen their faces and could identify them in a line- up, you lose appeal as a target.

2] If someone is coming toward you, hold out your hands in front of you and yell Stop or Stay back! Most of the rapists this man talked to said they’d leave a woman alone if she yelled or showed that she would not be afraid to fight back. Again, they are looking for an EASY target.

3] If you carry pepper spray (this instructor was a huge advocate of it and carries it with him wherever he goes,) yelling I HAVE PEPPER SPRAY and holding it out will be a deterrent.

4] If someone grabs you, you can’t beat them with strength but you can do it by outsmarting them. If you are grabbed around the waist from behind, pinch the attacker either under the arm between the elbow and armpit or in the upper inner thigh – HARD. One woman in a class this guy taught told him she used the underarm pinch on a guy who was trying to date rape her and was so upset she broke through the skin and tore out muscle strands the guy needed stitches. Try pinching yourself in those places as hard as you can stand it; it really hurts.

5] After the initial hit, always go for the groin. I know from a particularly unfortunate experience that if you slap a guy’s parts it is extremely painful. You might think that you’ll anger the guy and make him want to hurt you more, but the thing these rapists told our instructor is that they want a woman who will not cause him a lot of trouble. Start causing trouble, and he’s out of there.

6] When the guy puts his hands up to you, grab his first two fingers and bend them back as far as possible with as much pressure pushing down on them as possible. The instructor did it to me without using much pressure, and I ended up on my knees and both knuckles cracked audibly.

7] Of course the things we always hear still apply. Always be aware of your surroundings, take someone with you if you can and if you see any odd behavior, don’t dismiss it, go with your instincts. You may feel little silly at the time, but you’d feel much worse if the guy really was trouble.

FINALLY, PLEASE REMEMBER THESE AS WELL ….

1. Tip from Tae Kwon Do: The elbow is the strongest point on your body. If you are close enough to use it, do it.

2. Learned this from a tourist guide to New Orleans : if a robber asks for your wallet and/or purse, DO NOT HAND IT TO HIM. Toss it away from you…. chances are that he is more interested in your wallet and/or purse than you and he will go for the wallet/purse. RUN LIKE MAD IN THE OTHER DIRECTION!

3. If you are ever thrown into the trunk of a car: Kick out the back tail lights and stick your arm out the hole and start waving like crazy. The driver won’t see you but everybody else will. This has saved lives.

4. Women have a tendency to get into their cars after shopping,eating, working, etc., and just sit (doing their checkbook, or making a list, etc. DON’T DO THIS! The predator will be watching you, and this is the perfect opportunity for him to get in on the passenger side,put a gun to your head, and tell you where to go. AS SOON AS YOU CLOSE the DOORS , LEAVE.

5. A few notes about getting into your car in a parking lot, or parking garage:

a. Be aware: look around your car as someone may be hiding at the passenger side , peek into your car, inside the passenger side floor, and in the back seat. ( DO THIS TOO BEFORE RIDING A TAXI CAB) .

b. If you are parked next to a big van, enter your car from the passenger door. Most serial killers attack their victims by pulling them into their vans while the women are attempting to get into their cars.

c. Look at the car parked on the driver’s side of your vehicle, and the passenger side. If a male is sitting alone in the seat nearest your car, you may want to walk back into the mall, or work, and get a guard/policeman to walk you back out. IT IS ALWAYS BETTER TO BE SAFE THAN SORRY. (And better paranoid than dead.)

6. ALWAYS take the elevator instead of the stairs. (Stairwells are horrible places to be alone and the perfect crime spot).

7. If the predator has a gun and you are not under his control, ALWAYS RUN! The predator will only hit you (a running target) 4 in 100 times; And even then, it most likely WILL NOT be a vital organ. RUN!

8. As women, we are always trying to be sympathetic: STOP IT! It may get you raped, or killed. Ted Bundy, the serial killer, was a good-looking, well educated man, who ALWAYS played on the sympathies of unsuspecting women. He walked with a cane, or a limp, and often asked “for help” into his vehicle or with his vehicle, which is when he abducted his next victim.

Send this to any woman you know that may need to be reminded that the world we live in has a lot of crazies in it and it’s better safe than sorry.

If u have compassion reblog this post. ‘Helping hands are better than Praying Lips’ – give us your helping hand.

REBLOG THIS AND LET EVERY GIRL KNOW AT LEAST PEOPLE WILL KNOW WHATS GOING ON IN THIS WORLD. So please reblog this….Your one reblog can Help to spread this information.

THIS COULD ACTUALLY SAVE A LIFE.”