Suicide Girls vs Gods Girls
To everyone that asks Suicide Girls or Gods Girls. To anyone that’s thinking of modeling for them. To anyone that’s curious of my experiences with both of them.
Warning: This is very long.
Suicide Girls or Gods Girls.
Honestly, I don’t even think the two should be compared. Not only are my…
I gave up on any sort of respect for Suicide Girls as a company when their Facebook admin posted a pic of one of their models saying she was asexual and telling people to comment and see if they could change her mind. HER ORIENTATION IS ASEXUAL. NOT UP FOR DEBATE. GROSS.
the white guy is killin me
*looks nervously at obama* “h….ho………”
Michelle is GETTIN IT!
"You called me at three in the morning and before I could speak you said, “listen, I’m sad and you’re sad and I wanna be with you and I think maybe we can make each other happy.” And I told you that it doesn’t work like that, because I am the ocean and you’re an anchor, you’ll drown in me and I think it’d really fucking hurt to have you plunge through my skin and crash into my bones. When you find me in the bathroom dripping in blood, you’re going to hate yourself for not being able to fix me and then you’re going to hate me for making you feel like that. And when you take too many pills because you couldn’t fall asleep and everything hurt, I’m going to find myself screaming and crying and shaking until you finally wake up and I’ll be mad at you for scaring me like that and mad at myself for falling apart again. I love you, but I can’t be with you, because I’m on fire and I think you are too and we’ll just create something too big for either of us to put out, and with the scars decorating my arm, there isn’t any room for burns."-I love you but I can’t be with you (via extrasad)
I already liked Old Economy Steve. So, it was only natural I’d like the Scumbag Baby Boomer meme as well.
I don’t know whether I should laugh or cry.
Hearing somebody tell you that they love you is one thing; knowing their palms start to sweat when you smile at them is another." -It’s Been A While Now, K.P.K (via stateless1972)
This is the last poem
that leaves my body for you.
I spent six months fixing my soul
thinking you broke me I was
wrong, I was wrong, I broke myself
and I am so so glad I did.
I picked myself up from the shower floor,
dragged myself through sand and mud, I
fed myself, bathed myself, clothed myself,
pushed myself out of bed every morning,
talked myself out of suicide every night.
You left and I took care of me
when the entire world was, is still
trying to bleed me dry. The second time
I let you in, you left again and now
I can say “thank you, thank you for leaving”
Twelve months ago you burned out and I was
learning to be afraid of the dark.
I thought you were my light. I
didn’t know if I could survive the night.
My bones no longer ache for you.
I no longer sleep tucked in fetal position,
hiding under a blanket head-to-foot.
I lay in bed with the lamp switched off,
I lay in bed with my limbs dangling from the edges.
Let the monsters come,
Let the monsters in.
I am not afraid.
Sade Andria Zabala (surfandwrite) | Befriending The Monsters Under Your Bed
Read Untitled I from my book Coffee and Cigarettes, it will all make sense.