Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

just an artist psa

aliwa:

When artists look at their own work and call it awful, we mostly mean “this is nowhere near what I am capable of producing and I feel like I have let myself down” so please don’t feel bad about your own work when we say this about our own art, it really doesn’t reflect how we see your art.

This also applies to writing.

(via johanirae)

jabberwockypie:

throwtime:

throwtime:

I’m about to have a fun afternoon.

So my trainer’s bf cheated on her. She broke up with him. He’s holding her stuff hostage until she agrees to talk with him. Which she refuses.

She trains; for free mind you; three college linebackers, a college wrestler, two martial artists, a body builder, and… wait for it…. a Navy seal. We’re gonna go get her shit for her.

This should make for an interesting story.

So everyone who commented on this being like the avengers, you are absolutely right. That’s what all of us had in our heads as we were rolling over to dude’s house. But I’m very proud to say, this ended without violence.

Arrival:

So the super friends all jumped into one of the linebacker’s explorer and headed over to dude’s house. Ok the squad: you all know me, but the other martial artist is a little wirey hapkido guy, the linebackers are all giants (an estimated combined weight of I’d say 750-800lbs), the wrestler looks like an escaped gorilla, then the navy seal looks like your average guy but something about him is unsettling. Really unsettling. Unfortunately, the body builder had to work. Anyway, we send the Hapkido guy and the wrestler to the door first and dude answers, screams at them, and then slams the door in their face. Then the giant linebackers head over and they ring the door bell again. Lo and behold, he was much more polite, but still denied access. Finally, me and the seal join the fray. I casually make my way towards the front of the group, but the seal decides to CLIMB THE BANISTER. We all just turned and started at him completely shocked when dude answers the door. He looks at this weird mismatched group of relatively threatening individuals and one guy perched on his banister like batman. He was like “FINE. Go take what you’re looking for.”

Retrieval:

So we’re all walking through the house gathering what we think are her things and putting them into two boxes. Mind you. We are completely guessing. We didn’t even tell her we were coming, therefore we had no list of items.The only one really being productive was Hapkido, who was legitimately looking for stuff. The linebackers were just randomly picking up furniture, turning it over, and putting it back down. Just showing off how strong they were. In case the numbers game wasn’t enough, I guess they were letting him know they could break him if they wanted to. The seal was just shadowing dude in his own house. Walking behind him, not saying much, just being creepy. Then there’s me. Who was causing general mischief…. He said to take what I was looking for, that’s what I was looking for. Ahaha and the wrestler made a fricken sandwich. Because “you guys look like you have it under control, and I’m a sucker for egg salad.” We were in and out in 15 minutes.

Delivery:

So the autobots rolled out and headed towards homegirl’s spot. She was conveniently outside when we rolled up. We got out and she was like, how do you all even know each other. The truth is, we don’t. She sent us all an email once and didn’t blind copy us all. She vented to all of us about dude holding onto her stuff and we started emailing and that was that. We told her that we went to see her ex. “OMG what did you say to him?” Nothing. We’re not messenger boys. We’re delivery boys. And we gave her her boxes of stuff. She went through the first box and said that was most of her stuff. Then she got to my box and asked “Wtf is all that shit.” So I explained that I took all the batteries out of his remote controls, his deodorant, the light bulb out of his master closet, every pair of dress socks that I could find, the laces out of his running shoes, and all the toilet paper in the house. The guys just looked at me and kind of nodded like they were impressed. She then unexpectedly started CRYING and thanked us. So you have this group of meat heads all standing awkwardly with this weeping trainer. It was quiet for a second when the seal was like “So…. chipoltle?” And we all got burrito bowls.

What a great day.

ALL THE TOILET PAPER IN THE HOUSE.  Note to self: Remember for future vengeance purposes.

(via clockwork-mockingbird)

Did you all know I almost died because of fat phobia in the medical world?

neuromancer7:

songsforthesiren:

popelizbet:

missmisandry:

I’ve always been chubby. Always.

When I was about seven,  I started getting these episodes where my heart would race and I would get light headed and even faint. My mom would call the pediatrician and he’d tell us to come in, but by the time we got there my heart had slowed down and, according to him, he had no way to check what it was. 

He advised my mom to put me on a healthier diet and make me exercise more because it was probably my weight, even though  I wasn’t that much overweight and I practiced softball for an hour a day.

So my mom did as he said and I didn’t really lose any weight. Also, the episodes continued to happen. They always ended before we could get to the doctor’s office. The doctor never ordered any kind of tests on my heart, though he did test my thyroid and scold my mom for apparently not trying hard enough to get me to lose weight.

This went on for five years. I’d be laying in bed and suddenly my heart would start beating so hard, my shirt would move. I’d stand up out of the bathtub and black out, causing me to fall out of the tub. I’d be playing softball or in gym class or just playing with my friends and suddenly I’d get light headed or my heart would race.

There would be several fruitless calls or visits to my doctor, who would insist that it was complications due to my weight and they would continue until I was a normal size. My mom was scolded. I was body shamed. I had blood drawn twice a year to test my thyroid. And yet the episodes continued.

Then, the week of my 12th birthday—also, the week I started my very first period— I didn’t want to go to school because the day before, a girl who had seen me in the bathroom had told everybody that I had started my period. In 6th grade, being chubby with frizzy hair and huge teeth, that was pretty much a social death sentence and I was mocked mercilessly for it.

So the next morning I woke up and begged my mom not to let me go to school. I cried and begged and she still insisted I go. So I went to change when suddenly, I felt an attack hit and I blacked out and fell, knocking things off of my desk. My mother heard the noise and found me dazed on the floor. I told her I could feel my heart beating hard again. You could see my shirt moving over my chest from  how hard and fast my heart was beating.

My mom loaded me up in the car and took me to the pediatrician. This time, my heart continued to race and I remained light headed. They had to bring out a wheel chair to get me into the doctors office because I was too dizzy and weak to walk.

Once there, I was ushered into an examination room and I just laid down on the table. I couldn’t even sit up. They took my blood pressure and of course it was high, but they took it as a sign that my mother was feeding me salty, fatty foods instead of fruits and vegetables. they made me wait on the table for like two hours until an EKG machine was available in the office. I fell asleep for like half an hour because I was EXHAUSTED. Eventually, they sent us to the ER.

At the ER, they ushered me into a small little room with an EKG machine. They hooked it up and like fifteen seconds later, the nurse flipped shit. She called a “code blue” and about fifteen nurses rushed into this tiny room and then they raced me to another part of the ER. Didn’t tell my mom what was going on, just left her there and took off with me in the bed. They hooked me up to a ton of IVs and monitors and gave me medication to slow my heart that caused me to vomit everywhere.

Then they did a bunch of x-rays and EKG tests and kept me overnight. They found out that I had WPW, which is a tiny hole in the walls of the chambers of the heart, which caused my heart to beat so rapidly. They explained to my parents that this hadn’t happened as an effect of diet or habit, but that I had been born with this hole.

They also told her that me playing softball and being active with this condition was incredibly dangerous, because this is the condition that causes athletes to die on the field for seemingly no reason. The heart starts beating fast through exertion, the signals that cause the heart to beat get all scrambled and the heart beats so fast that it just gives out.

And the reason this particular attack had lasted so long was because it had come dangerously close to causing my heart to give out, which would have killed me. I ended up having to have heart surgery,  something that should have been done 5 years earlier when I first started having the attacks.

But, because I was overweight, my doctor was more concerned with thinning me down than providing me with the treatment I needed to live a healthy life.

I’m so sorry that happened to you.  Folks, please reblog; this deserves more notes.

Fucking. Read it.

We’ve still got a lot of work to do with this world we’re confined to.

(Source: marrymejasonsegel, via lupinatic)

coffee-cigarettes-and-cinema:

People without big boobs: OMG I WISH IHAD BIG BOOBS

People with big boobs:

• can’t run
• over sexualized
• cant wear tank tops without being inappropriate
• cant sleep on stomach
• no bathing suit fits
• BACK PAIN
• people staring down shirt
• creepy jokes
• people grab them
• no cute bras
• no sports
• three+ sports bras
• no bra HA GOOD LUCK
• can’t take any kind of selfie with cleavage because “YOU’RE DOING IT FOR BOOBS”
• shirts dont fit
• if the boob bit does the stomach doesn’t
• DID I MENTION OVER SEXUALIZED
• mocked by the media if your stomach isn’t flat but your boobs are huge
  
• leaning over to drink from water fountain, boobs in fountain
• no suspenders
• crumbs are gone forever
• boobs hang out of bra and everyone can see the lines
  
• people automatically think you’re more sexual if you have big boobs?
• no button up shirts, buttons pop off or constantly open
• have fun with a vest for work
• things smash your boobs flat and make you have a weird puffy flat chest
• people constantly talk about them
• dont bend over, they fall out of bra
  
• can’t war pajamas with no bra
• people think touching them is okay
• people ask if they’re fake
• people saying big boobs dont count unless you’re thin
• people who think you’re stupid because of boob size
• people who wont take you seriously because of boob size
• finding costumes is impossible
• nothing if you want anything in asian sizes
• most bra stores dont go past DD
• people you don’t know ask their size
• if you have long hair, it gets stuck in your boobs
• OVER SEXUALIZATION
• no artistic nudes allowed because you have big not “artistic boobs”
• there are more
  

God bless you.

When I was younger I was always very firm about being totally okay with B or C cups while all my friends talked about wanting really big boobs.

I’m a DDD and I got wolf-whistled at while wearing a crappy t-shirt with a crew neck and a loose cut.

They’re nice and squishy, yeah, but also WAY more trouble than they’re worth.

(via clockwork-mockingbird)

Advice for girls: buy skinny jeans in the boy’s section

grizzy118:

americanfitnessstory:

thickthighing:

ohmslewis:

serrie-smiles:

They’re more comfortable, still form fitting, and best of all: THE POCKETS. THEY HAVE ACTUAL POCKETS.

don’t believe me? look:

these are boys pants, and they look just as good on me as any other skinny jeans I own

See that phone? I’m going to put it in the pocket. Must be so small right??

Ah yes, girl pants length. Probably can’t fit any further than that-

what? what’s this?

Good god. Oh good lord in heaven. This is blasphemous.

Look at how much room is still there. There’s chaos in the streets. Babies are crying. Fashion designers are screaming out of fear of the unknown.

Buy your pants in the boys section, girls. Live in the beautiful world you deserve where you can fit shit in your pocket.

Also buy your flannel in the boys section. They have a working little pocket on the chest and they are not made of whatever material is thinner than PAPER so they will actually keep you warm.

Sweeeeet

If only I could buy bras in the men’s section. I’m sure they would be cheaper and come with little boob pockets.

SPREADING THE WORD BECAUSE I KNOW SOME OF YOU WILL APPRECIATE THE HELL OUT OF THIS

(via thepainofthesass)

riddlemehiddleston:

riddlemehiddleston:

I’M HOME ALONE AND MY PARENTS FORGOT TO TELL ME THAT THERE ARE PEOPLE PAINTING OUR HOUSE SO I’VE BEEN REENACTING LES MIS AND I JUST VIOLENTLY THREW OPEN THE WINDOW TO YELL ‘CANONS’ AND THE POOR GUY NEARLY FELL OFF HIS STEPLADDER

DON’T YOU DARE REBLOG THIS I MIGHT GET SUED 

(Source: themaraudermoony, via johanirae)