Palestinian lady collects gas bombs fired by Israeli army. She grows flowers in these bombs.
shoutout to my homies who are deeply bizarre and have something wrong with them
joan jett (2000-2006). you agree.
i've been searching for this for an hour and a half
the hunger I experience now that I have stopped starving myself is unmatched by any hunger I’ve felt, apart from perhaps when I was in my infancy. now that my body is learning to expect meals and snacks, nutrient-rich fuel at regular intervals throughout the day, it calls out so loudly to me, stopping me in the middle of my day, demanding sweet and salt and fat. braised chicken, bread with real butter, a whole banana, cookies, hard boiled eggs, chocolate cake, tinned fish, full fat yogurt with good olive oil. when I was starving, I never felt hungry like this — my body didn’t make a fuss, she didn’t complain. over the long periods of sustained starvation, of calling out to deaf ears, she had learned to stop reminding me, and to be grateful for what she got. now that I am eating normal, adult-sized portions on a daily basis, my body cries out and sings for more, knowing I’ve finally started listening again, and refusing to go without. I’m attentive. I stop what I’m doing to reassure her, and I have another cookie. I polish off the clamshell carton of fat, ripe strawberries, warm basmati rice with sesame seeds, roasted chicken thighs, quite literally anything and everything that I want. I’m more alert and awake lately — suddenly, I’ve gained hours in my day, suddenly there is room in my mind for creative thought, for art, contemplation, joy, introspection, everything in life that I didn’t know I was opting out of by simply not being fed and fueled enough to even consider engaging in. disordered eating is a sedative to the mind, body, and soul. I’m awake and I’m hungry and I’m eating everything
by fomajc on instagram. im losing my shit over this
Photograph by Vita C. Shapiro
source: The Wild Good: Lesbian Photographs & Writings on Love, edited by Beatrix Gates
Hey. Don't cry. Weird teenage girl somewhere out there reading Frankenstein for the first time. Ok?
Yeah you could say I’m doing numbers on tumblr. And that numbers? One