First off, I wanna thank everyone who bought any of my e-books! You guys are awesome and truly helpful, that money mostly goes towards helping with bills and rent, so thanks for contributing to keeping me off the streets! It makes me pretty emotional to think about how supportive people are…
Greek myths mention several Islands of Women, where Amazons lived without men, only consorting with neighboring colonies of males at certain seasons when they wanted to conceive their children. Taurus, Lemnos, and Lesbos were said to be such all-female societies. The Greeks apparently feared them. They said the women of Taurus sacrificed to their Goddess all men who landed on their shores; and the women of Lemnos had risen up against their husband and murdered all of them at once. The Greek writers seemed to have no doubt that women could destroy whole populations of adult males, and there was no effective defense against them.
— The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets, Barbara G. Walker (p. 26)
(Source: ancient-memories, via zeldatitsgerald)
Giles Corey - No One Is Ever Going To Want Me
(Source: mrnewton, via isadorahaze)
Jenny Holzer, 1998, from the Survival Series
woody allen, the irredeemable creep whose obvious misogyny was misinterpreted as creative genius by the college-boy mentality.
(Source: mfjr, via zeldatitsgerald)
Isn’t it time to acknowledge the ugly side? I’ve grown quite weary of the spunky heroines, brave rape victims, soul-searching fashionistas that stock so many books. I particularly mourn the lack of female villains — good, potent female villains. Not ill-tempered women who scheme about landing good men and better shoes (as if we had nothing more interesting to war over), not chilly WASP mothers (emotionally distant isn’t necessarily evil), not soapy vixens (merely bitchy doesn’t qualify either). I’m talking violent, wicked women. Scary women. Don’t tell me you don’t know some. The point is, women have spent so many years girl-powering ourselves — to the point of almost parodic encouragement — we’ve left no room to acknowledge our dark side. Dark sides are important. They should be nurtured like nasty black orchids.
— Gillian Flynn, speaking about her novel Sharp Objects (via turquoise-rings)
At first, heartbreak made me beautiful.
My skin fluoresced. I hypnotized trees.
The orphans followed me around town,
drunk on my pain. I ate only my own
hunger, gave off a scent like bitter oranges
or chlorine. Loss left me strangely whole,
as if my sadness, were it strong enough,
could turn your ship around. That was back
when I aged. Now, like an astronomer
who seeks no first causes, but only to map
the connections pinned out over the sea,
I want to diagram the light that shines out
through the holes you pricked into me.
— Maureen Thorson, from Applies to Oranges (via oh-girl-among-the-roses)
(Source: commovente, via isadorahaze)
I am quoting the Moon’s own words—”last night I was gliding through the cloudless Indian sky. My face was mirrored in the waters of the Ganges, and my beams strove to pierce through the thick intertwining boughs of the bananas, arching beneath me like the tortoise’s shell. Forth from the thicket…
The Pretty Reckless - Where Did Jesus Go