jessicaparker1122

[jessicaparker1122]

This is how the night should be spent

i’m locked in your embrace, together stargazing

don’t need no alcohol to spill these feelings

some Whopper Jr and Mocha Super Float

from Burger King are enough

we take turns to share our crazy little secrets

telling stories we never tell our parents

honestly i don’t know what’s better than

two bare souls connected by destiny

getting along really well

to finally touch the untouched parts

where yours take me to see you

in another side that convinces me

i couldn’t love you more

— G.A // nights like these

[jessicaparker1122]

“All the things we think we absolutely must have in order to be happier are indications that we are controlled from without, rather than from within. This assumption leads to believing that we are incomplete and lacking somehow, and that we can complete that incompleteness by having more things. An endless trap! One that we can never escape as long as we think that ownership of something is going to fill the void.”

— Dr. Wayne W. Dyer, “You’ll See It When You Believe It” (via dharmarainbow)

[jessicaparker1122]

There’s never any time! 😫 https://ift.tt/2reXI4w

[jessicaparker1122]

[jessicaparker1122]

no one man should have this much power

[jessicaparker1122]

I am sorry for being difficult. I am sorry for my mood swings. I am sorry for being unavailable. I am sorry for being different from norms. I am sorry for being aloof. I am sorry that I make you worry. I am sorry that you think I am sad. I am sorry that you think I am upset. I am sorry for being incomprehensible. I am sorry that you couldn’t believe I am fine. I am sorry but can you just trust me?

ijustwrite (via thoughtkick)

[jessicaparker1122]

sometimes i learn a new thing about how i was trained as girl. like i recently realized that male performers can end up in jail ,or drunk, or dancing on tables, out every night, crazy, wild: and they’re considered heroes. i was never allowed any of that stuff without “messy” “crazy” “tactless” “unclassy” following me. and maybe that was obvious to other people, i guess.

but the other day one of my students came up to me at at five years old she said, “boys are allowed to play with knights but girls aren’t.” i said, “we can play with either.” she shook her head, “knights are scary. girls are pretty.”

okay. i got a lot of things in my life i’m angry about. where are my pockets. why can’t i walk alone at night. how come i have to text every detail of my uber driver to my sister before i close the door, how come i keep my fingers on the lock and a knife in my pocket. how come i had to burn the clothes he touched me in, i liked those before him. how come rapists are allowed on campuses but bare breasts is a expulsion-level misconduct. how come i don’t know any women who look like me. how come little girls with ADD go unnoticed like i did. how come.

but god it fucking stings when you see a little girl learn these things. like, i know this stuff so deeply i forget about it. she only understands gender as a black and white binary. and “pretty” is in the “girl” category.

and sometimes i look down and i feel like i’m five again because i find some quality of myself and i have to look at it and say: hey, is this something that’s actually me, or is it because i thought that’s what girls had to be?

[jessicaparker1122]

sometimes i learn a new thing about how i was trained as girl. like i recently realized that male performers can end up in jail ,or drunk, or dancing on tables, out every night, crazy, wild: and they’re considered heroes. i was never allowed any of that stuff without “messy” “crazy” “tactless” “unclassy” following me. and maybe that was obvious to other people, i guess.

but the other day one of my students came up to me at at five years old she said, “boys are allowed to play with knights but girls aren’t.” i said, “we can play with either.” she shook her head, “knights are scary. girls are pretty.”

okay. i got a lot of things in my life i’m angry about. where are my pockets. why can’t i walk alone at night. how come i have to text every detail of my uber driver to my sister before i close the door, how come i keep my fingers on the lock and a knife in my pocket. how come i had to burn the clothes he touched me in, i liked those before him. how come rapists are allowed on campuses but bare breasts is a expulsion-level misconduct. how come i don’t know any women who look like me. how come little girls with ADD go unnoticed like i did. how come.

but god it fucking stings when you see a little girl learn these things. like, i know this stuff so deeply i forget about it. she only understands gender as a black and white binary. and “pretty” is in the “girl” category.

and sometimes i look down and i feel like i’m five again because i find some quality of myself and i have to look at it and say: hey, is this something that’s actually me, or is it because i thought that’s what girls had to be?

[jessicaparker1122]

[Vaishali_308] sings Kiss You by One Direction, what an incredible voice on StarMaker! #music #karaoke #sing

[jessicaparker1122]

[Vaishali_308] sings Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift, what an incredible voice on StarMaker! #music #karaoke #sing

[jessicaparker1122]

[Vaishali_308] sings Love Story by Taylor Swift, what an incredible voice on StarMaker! #music #karaoke #sing

[jessicaparker1122]

[Vaishali_308] sings Shape Of You by Ed Sheeran, what an incredible voice on StarMaker! #music #karaoke #sing

[jessicaparker1122]

[jessicaparker1122]

The night I kept my ear pressed to a door I still had the dream that love could be pure until I heard her whisper –, “please, more.”     The bouquet of roses fell to the floor, reduced to a scattered waste of manure the night I kept my ear pressed to a door.     I recalled the promise to which we swore; how convinced I was our love would endure until I heard her whisper –, “please, more.”     Then all went black unlike ever before, as the tears that fell were not premature the night I kept my ear pressed to a door.     Never before did she make my tears pour; I always felt blessed, so safe and secure until I heard her whisper –, “please, more.”     Love proved to be a feeling to abhor; I always wondered, but I became sure the night I kept my ear pressed to a door until I heard her whisper –, “please, more.”

“My ear pressed to the door”, a villanelle by M.A. Tempels © 2017 (via definegodliness)

[jessicaparker1122]

[jessicaparker1122]

Reputation Visuals // 2/2

[jessicaparker1122]

I hope our daughters are born with so much fire in their souls, they could put volcanoes and stars to shame.

Nikita Gill, Girls Made of Fire (via wordsnquotes)