Becoming a DJ master one dream at a time

When your mother hits you, do not strike back. When the boys call asking your cup size, say A, hang up. When he says you give him blue balls, say you’re welcome. When a girl with thick black curls who smells like bubble gum stops you in a stairwell to ask if you’re a boy, explain that you keep your hair short so she won’t have anything to grab when you head-butt her. Then head-butt her. When a guidance counsellor teases you for handed-down jeans, do not turn red. When you have sex for the second time and there is no condom, do not convince yourself that screwing between layers of underwear will soak up the semen. When your geometry teacher posts a banner reading, “Learn math or go home and learn how to be a Momma,” do not take your first feminist stand by leaving the classroom. When the boy you have a crush on is sent to detention, go home. When your mother hits you, do not strike back. When the boy with the blue mohawk swallows your heart and opens his wrists, hide the knives, bleach the bathtub, pour out the vodka. Every time. When the skinhead girls jump you in a bathroom stall, swing, curse, kick, do not turn red. When a boy you think you love delivers your first black eye, use a screw driver, a beer bottle, your two good hands. When your father locks the door, break the window. When a college professor writes you poetry and whispers about your tight little ass, do not take it as a compliment, do not wait, call the Dean, call his wife. When a boy with good manners and a thirst for Budweiser proposes, say no. When the boys tell you how good you smell, do not doubt them, do not turn red. When your brother tells you he is gay, pretend you already know. When the girl on the subway curses you because your tee shirt reads “I fucked your boyfriend,” assure her that it is not true. When your dog pees the rub, kiss her, apologize for being late. When he refuses to stay the night because you live in Jersey City, do not move. When he refuses to stay the night because you live in Harlem, do not move. When he refuses to stay the night because your air conditioner is broke, leave him. When he refuses to keep a toothbrush at your apartment, leave him. When you find the toothbrush you keep at his apartment hidden in the closet, leave him. Do not regret this. Do not turn red. When your mother hits you, do not strike back.

—Unsolicited Advice to Adolescent Girls With Crooked Teeth And Pink Hair, From Racing Hummingbirds by Jeanann Verlee (via c0veted)

(via queenofcandyland)

smalllindsay:

So I’d like to post this though it’s old, because I’m about to start working on another series like it. I posted it about a year ago on tumbles, but when I was doing my art tag I noticed none of the images worked and it was all broken image links because I am bad at internet and also being alive.

This was my graduating thesis; a poster series. They’re each about four feet tall, except the first one which is only about three feet. There’s a lot of mistakes in this now that I notice a few years later, but I still like them. I learned so much making them! It’s supposed to be the girl in the first image imagining herself and her robot in all sorts of vintage poster inspired advertisements. All done in photoshop.

edit: put the more high quality ones up, tumblr compressed em initially.

(via queenofcandyland)

lotsalipstick:

snapdraws:

Apologies for the terrible image quality - I’m lacking scanner access at the minute so I had to take these photos on my phone

I was reading hyperbole and a half’s blog entry explaining their experience of depression and decided to make another sketchy comic based on my experiences with anxiety, which is another mental illness I think people tend to misunderstand quite frequently

Hopefully this will be of use to some people - whether they suffer from anxiety themselves or if they just want to know more about it

oh god this is so accurate 

(via cinnamonyeti)