Inspirations

“One should always be drunk. That’s all that matters…But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you choose. But get drunk.”
— Charles Baudelaire

youngblackandvegan:

A person can say anything
They can say they love or support or understand you
But look at their actions
Look what their actions tell you

femininitythefword:

Actor and feminist, Terry Crews, sheds light on the whole “man up” ideology that young boys are taught in early stages of life. Boys should not play with certain toys that aren’t Tonka Trucks or G.I. Joe’s. Boys should never cry because that is what girls do. Boys should not… blah, blah, blah. 

When boys are taught to “man up,” society compares weakness with femininity, and sometimes just being a female is considered weakness, How many times have you heard “Don’t be a pussy” come out the mouths of teenage boys and grown men? Society associates having a “pussy” with weakness. Women are emotional and fragile creatures in a male dominant society and in order for this dominance to remain, men must act like a “man.” A “man” within societal standards is strong, emotionless, intelligent, and aggressive (not necessarily violent, but aggressive in terms of determination and work ethic). To be a “man” society forces men and young boys to suppress what makes them human: emotions, feelings, compassion.

As Terry Crews points out in this interview with Larry King, within the African American community, men are pressured to act a certain way by society. There is a stigma that surrounds African American men, the media portrays them as aggressive, violent, and generally what society expects from a “man.” Men are told to “not be so sensitive” and “don’t be such a girl” when it comes to issues that involve their emotions and feelings. If someone is offended they have every damn right to be upset, sensitivity is not solely for women, sensitivity and feeling are what make you human. Being “feminine,” “sensitive,” or a “girl” does not make you weak. It makes you human.

Lianne La Havas

—Empty

sorryimhuman:

I knew you were empty
I knew you were lost, yet still I’m alone, but oh how I’ve grown 
Thought that he’d left me, I thought that he’d burned out bright, and I’m alone 
but somehow I’m alright
It seemed so easy, just to walk, just to run 
but if you leave me, I can reacquaint myself with my true loved one
Just leave town, I can sleep when you’re not around
I thought it was myself, that I’d found

I knew you were empty 
I knew you were lost, yet still I’m alone, and oh how I’ve grown 
Thought that he’d left me, I thought that he’d burned out bright, and I’m alone 
but somehow I’m alright
It seemed so easy, just to walk, just to run
but if you leave me, I can reacquaint myself with my true loved one 
So just leave town, I can sleep when you’re not around 
I thought it was myself that I found
I said just leave town, I can sleep when you’re not around
I gotta take another call right now

excdus:

Flamboya
Viviane Sassen
‘Flamboya’ refers to the ‘Flamboyant’ tree which blossoms in December and paints the landscape across East and South Africa with countless deep red-and-orange flowers. Yet, maybe this name constitutes the sole remaining concession and reference to an exotic image of Africa in the history of a body of work that otherwise helps challenging this enduring conception. Shot in Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania and Zambia, the ‘Flamboya’ photographs stand as paradigmatic for Sassen’s new way of looking at Africa – one devoid of sentimentality and that through poetical metaphors acknowledges the challenges and drawbacks of its complex reality.

excdus:

Flamboya

Viviane Sassen

‘Flamboya’ refers to the ‘Flamboyant’ tree which blossoms in December and paints the landscape across East and South Africa with countless deep red-and-orange flowers. Yet, maybe this name constitutes the sole remaining concession and reference to an exotic image of Africa in the history of a body of work that otherwise helps challenging this enduring conception. Shot in Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania and Zambia, the ‘Flamboya’ photographs stand as paradigmatic for Sassen’s new way of looking at Africa – one devoid of sentimentality and that through poetical metaphors acknowledges the challenges and drawbacks of its complex reality.

(via impossible-grinning-soul)

Depression is humiliating. It turns intelligent, kind people into zombies who can’t wash a dish or change their socks. It affects the ability to think clearly, to feel anything, to ascribe value to your children, your lifelong passions, your relative good fortune. It scoops out your normal healthy ability to cope with bad days and bad news, and replaces it with an unrecognizable sludge that finds no pleasure, no delight, no point in anything outside of bed. You alienate your friends because you can’t comport yourself socially, you risk your job because you can’t concentrate, you live in moderate squalor because you have no energy to stand up, let alone take out the garbage. You become pathetic and you know it. And you have no capacity to stop the downward plunge. You have no perspective, no emotional reserves, no faith that it will get better. So you feel guilty and ashamed of your inability to deal with life like a regular human, which exacerbates the depression and the isolation.
Depression is humiliating.
If you’ve never been depressed, thank your lucky stars and back off the folks who take a pill so they can make eye contact with the grocery store cashier. No one on earth would choose the nightmare of depression over an averagely turbulent normal life.
It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too.
Depression is humiliating.
No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged.

— Pearl (via psych-facts)