La Vie En Rose

I'm Erin, and I'm a 22 year old anthropology major. I love loving things. Especially friends, movies, music, Netflix, and travelling.

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“They ain’t lose a daughter got a son”

satanic2chainz:

oh look, there’s jay-z dismantling patriarchal views of marriage along with taking beyonce last name but aint nobody want to talk any shit about that

(Source: alienswithankhs)

(Source: piercinald)

You are allowed to have really good days for no real reason and really bad ones for no real reason. You are allowed to feel like shit and ten minutes later, think everything in the world is perfect. You dont need a reason to feel, emotions are a great part of the human experience, don’t deny them.

(Source: starsinthegutter)

794 plays

josienesss:

Janelle Monae - Q.U.E.E.N. (feat. Erykah Badu)

I am somehow less interested in the weight and convolutions of Einstein’s brain than in the near certainty that people of equal talent have lived and died in cotton fields and sweatshops.

Stephen Jay Gould  (via 5footabstract)

FOREVER REBLOG!

(via knowledgeequalsblackpower)

(Source: peapodkid)


@johnmulaney: and they lived happily ever after.

@johnmulaney: and they lived happily ever after.

bill, thanks for 8 hilarious years!

(Source: geneparmesaned)

(Source: lunaxvx)

(Source: berryhudson)

1.
I say, ‘I am fat.’
He says ‘No, you are beautiful.’
I wonder why I cannot be both.
He kisses me
hard.

2.
My college theater professor once told me
that despite my talent,
I would never be cast as a romantic lead.
We do plays that involve singing animals
and children with the ability to fly,
but apparently no one
has enough willing suspension of disbelief
to go with anyone loving a fat girl.
I daydream regularly
about fucking my boyfriend vigorously on his front lawn.

3.
On the mornings I do not feel pretty,
while he is still asleep,
I sit on the floor and check the pockets of his skinny jeans for motive,
for a punchline,
for other girls’ phone numbers.

4.
When we hold hands in public,
I wonder if he notices the looks —
like he is handling a parade balloon on a crowded sidewalk;
if he notices that my hands are now made of rope.

5.
Dear Cosmo: Fuck you.
I will not take sex tips from you
on how to please a man you think I do not deserve.

6.
He tells me he loves me with the lights on.

7.
I can cup his hip bone in my hand,
feel his ribs without pressing very hard at all.
He does not believe me when I tell him he is beautiful.
Sometimes I fear the day he does will be the day he leaves.

8.
The cute hipster girl at the coffee shop
assumes we are just friends
and flirts over the counter.
I spend the next two weeks
mentally replacing myself with her
in all of our photographs.
When I admit this to him
we spend the evening taking new photos together.
He will not let me delete a single one of them.

9.
The phrase “Big girls need love too” can die in a fire.
Fucking me does not require an asterisk.
Loving me is not a fetish.
Finding me beautiful is not a novelty.
I am not a fucking novelty.

10.
I say, ‘I am fat.’
He says, ‘No. You are so much more’,
and kisses me
hard.

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