We are very close to death. All women are. And we are very close to rape and we are very close to beating. And we are inside a system of humiliation from which there is no escape for us. We use statistics not to try to quantify the injuries, but to convince the world that those injuries even exist. Those statistics are not abstractions. It is easy to say, “Ah, the statistics, somebody writes them up one way and somebody writes them up another way.” That’s true. But I hear about the rapes one by one by one by one by one, which is also how they happen. Those statistics are not abstract to me. Every three minutes a woman is being raped. Every eighteen seconds a woman is being beaten. There is nothing abstract about it. It is happening right now as I am speaking.

And it is happening for a simple reason. There is nothing complex and difficult about the reason. Men are doing it, because of the kind of power that men have over women. That power is real, concrete, exercised from one body to another body, exercised by someone who feels he has a right to exercise it, exercised in public and exercised in private. It is the sum and substance of women’s oppression.

(Source: grandefilms)

You have to make the right choice. As long as you don’t choose, everything remains possible.

Mr. Nobody (2009)

(Source: blississa)

Viva Cuba

Viva Cuba

(Source: helpjackisalive)

(Source: hexapodkittens)

Hello, I’m neurotic
Creating problems that don’t exist
Don’t believe me when I say it’s alright

Let’s go to my apartment
We’ll pull the sheets up over our heads
Forget all reasons to go outside

Beats pulse, they’re automatic
Locked inside of my apartment
Make confessions with the television on

I’m fine

— (via vivah8t)

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.

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