poeticrican:

grrrls-fighting-back:

"My name is Michael Hunter. I was diagnosed with leukemia in June 2013 & was told on June 11, 2014 that I only have a few months left to live if I can’t find a donor. Please help me with my biological family or a donor match! I was born in Columbus, OH 3/1/1985 at Doctor’s North Hospital and given the name Christopher Brown. Please share"
Michael is a friend, I’m asking that you all take the time to share this. He desperately needs a bone marrow donor and there is very limited number of African American donors. Without a donor Michael is going to die.
Michael was adopted and does not know his birth family. We know he has a half brother but have no information about him.
He does not specifically need an African American Donor but because of all of the things that factor into finding a match (blood type, dna tissue etc.) , someone of similar descent is more likely to be a closer match.
If anyone knows anything about Michael’s birth family or if you would like to see if you are a match, please privately message me. I can put you in touch with him and his caregivers directly!
We hope through spreading awareness we can either find his birth family whom he does not know or find a donor match. Michael lives in the Cincinnati, OH area. Please dont just like this or scroll past. Please share this! You could save his life!

BOOST. Its so hard for Black people to find donors.

poeticrican:

grrrls-fighting-back:

"My name is Michael Hunter. I was diagnosed with leukemia in June 2013 & was told on June 11, 2014 that I only have a few months left to live if I can’t find a donor. Please help me with my biological family or a donor match! I was born in Columbus, OH 3/1/1985 at Doctor’s North Hospital and given the name Christopher Brown. Please share"

Michael is a friend, I’m asking that you all take the time to share this. He desperately needs a bone marrow donor and there is very limited number of African American donors. Without a donor Michael is going to die.

Michael was adopted and does not know his birth family. We know he has a half brother but have no information about him.

He does not specifically need an African American Donor but because of all of the things that factor into finding a match (blood type, dna tissue etc.) , someone of similar descent is more likely to be a closer match.

If anyone knows anything about Michael’s birth family or if you would like to see if you are a match, please privately message me. I can put you in touch with him and his caregivers directly!

We hope through spreading awareness we can either find his birth family whom he does not know or find a donor match. Michael lives in the Cincinnati, OH area. Please dont just like this or scroll past. Please share this! You could save his life!

BOOST. Its so hard for Black people to find donors.

My Parents are Dead and My Sister is Disabled

dinosaur-installation:

theedark-knight:

congalineofdurin:

cockismybusiness:

team—wolverine:

therealbarbielifts:

eisforedna:

On May 28th, my sister, Edna, turned 31.

image 

Her mental age is about three years old. She loves Winnie the Pooh, Beauty & the Beast, and Sesame Street. Even though the below picture is unconvincing. 

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Edna and “Cookie.” I think she was trying to play it cool. 

My name is Jeanie. I’m Edna’s younger sister. I’m also her guardian and caregiver. 

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That’s me on the left. (Hey, you never know. After a year of writing a blog about online dating - Jeanie Does the Internet - I’ve come to learn that there are A LOT of fools on the internet.) 

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ANYWAY, I’m not “doing the internet” anymore. I’m taking care of Edna full-time, after completing my MFA in Writing for Screen & Television at USC.

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May 16, 2014. I wanted a picture. Edna wanted breakfast.

In case you’re wondering where our parents are, they’re dead. Our mom died of breast cancer when she was just 33. 

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Us with mom before she died. (Obviously.)

As for our dad, he peaced-out around the time my mom got sick. His loss - we’re awesome. 

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Here we are being awesome at the beach. Pushing a wheelchair in the sand? Not so awesome. 

In case you’re wondering “What’s wrong?” with my sister - as a stranger once asked me on the street  -  NOTHING. Yes, Edna has a rare form of epilepsy - Lennox-Gastaut syndrome - but I don’t know if that’s anymore “wrong” than people who don’t have manners. 

Basically, Edna was born “normal,” and started having seizures as a baby. They eventually got so bad that they cut off the oxygen to her brain, causing her to be mentally disabled. Or impaired. Or intellectually disabled. Or whatever you want to call it - except “retarded,” because in 2010, President Obama signed Rosa’s Law into effect, replacing that word with “intellectually impaired.” 

Which is cool and all, but services for the disabled and the people who care for them are SEVERELY LACKING. Also, there’s a bunch of people working in taxpayer-funded positions who are supposed to help families like us, but don’t. (Big surprise, I know.) They just fill out paperwork (whenever they feel like it) with asinine statements like this: 

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YUP. I transport my sister down the stairs in her wheelchair, because that is not only safe, but TOTALLY PRACTICAL. Why doesn’t everyone in a wheelchair just take the stairs, for God’s sake? Stop being so lazy, PEOPLE WITHOUT WORKING LEGS! 

But, as it says above, Edna’s legs do work. Whether or not she wants them to, is another story. 

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Edna refusing to go inside. 

These are the stairs that I have to carry her up - by myself - on a daily basis. That is, until one of my legs break and both of us are just sitting at the bottom of the stairs, helpless. 

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For six months, I have begged - BEGGED - the State of California to help my sister, which they are required by law - The Lanterman Act specifically - to do so. But they’ve told me “these things take time” and that I “need to amend my expectations.” (That was said to me when I refused to place Edna at AN ALL-MALE CARE FACILITY. Because yes, that was an “option” that was offered to me.) 

Prior to Edna moving in with me in my one-bedroom apartment, she was living with her amazing caregiver, Gaby, back in Tucson, where we went to high school and I did my undergrad. Edna’s reppin’ the Wildcats below. 

image

But back in November, Gaby also died from breast cancer. (FUCK YOU, BREAST CANCER!) This picture was taken a month before she died. She never even told me she was sick because she didn’t want me to worry. 

By the way, we were raised by our grandma. Edna and her were very close.

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She’s dead, too. Surprise.

She died when I was 20 and Edna was 21. That’s when I became Edna’s legal guardian and Gaby stepped into the picture to help me out with Edna. 

So, six months ago, after Gaby died, I moved Edna to California, where I tried to get the folks over at The Frank D. Lanterman Regional Center to help me. I’ve told them I’m worried about our safety - that one of us could get hurt on the stairs -  I’ve told them I can’t afford to pay the private babysitters $15/hour because the ones social services sent me who make $9/hour were unreliable (they didn’t show up on time or at all so I could get to school and work), untrustworthy (one of them let Edna go to the bathroom in the kitchen and then took her into the bathroom because “that what I thought I was supposed to do.”) 

But the people over at the FLRC don’t return my calls, they don’t file the paperwork on time - and the first caseworker that was assigned to us actually LAUGHED AT my sister when he came to our home to evaluate her. When I reported him to his supervisor, she told me, “That’s just [insert name of said jackass].” 

He was one of the two caseworkers that contributed to the report I mentioned above, which also included this: 

image

So let me get this straight - I have to feed, bathe, dress and help Edna in the bathroom and you can’t deduce whether or not she is able to vote? What in the fuck?!

Now I realize I seem angry. And you can bet your balls I am. I’m also sad. Sad for those who don’t have family to stick up from them and who waste away God knows where, monitored by no one. Or monitored by people who physically and sexually assault them

I’m also sad for the caregivers who are SO EXHAUSTED - trying to take care of their loved ones - while also trying to take care of themselves and battling a system that is supposed to help, but does nothing of the sort. And I know a lot of people give up. They let their dreams, their marriages, their friendships slide. All while trying not to resent the very person you’re doing it all for.

image

Edna wanted to sit next to me the other day while I was writing. Clearly, she’s not impressed. 

Here’s the thing: I REFUSE TO GIVE UP. I’M NOT GIVING UP ON HER OR MYSELF. I’m going to pursue my dreams while taking care of her, AND while ensuring that the people paid to do their jobs ACTUALLY do them.

That’s where you come in. I need you to help me get my story out there. Because I know I’m not alone in this. I want to connect with families who are in similar situations and also show people who have no idea what it’s like to care for someone with a disability (or even a loved one who is sick) that it can be rewarding. Super fucking hard. Exhausting. Painful. Isolating. But, rewarding. 

I’m going to get help for my sister - and others. My hope is that by sharing our story, I can bring awareness to the lack of services and help for the disabled. 

Thank you, 

Jeanie 

Facebook:  facebook.com/eisforedna

Twitter: @EisforEdna 

This made me cry

SIGNAL BOOST

STOP SCROLLING. THIS PERSON ISN’T ASKING FOR MONEY AND THIS POST WON’T MAKE YOU SAD.

This is a really uplifting and inspirational story of a family sticking by each other and making things work despite a whole lot of shit

They just want to find other people in the same position they are, for a sense of community and to feel like they aren’t alone.

I know out of all of you, some of you have followers who are living with and taking care of intellectually or emotionally disabled family members, and this lovely and unbreakable pair of sisters need to find them.

SIGNAL BOOOOOOOOOST

Hey guys help raise awareness! Just take 2 seconds to hit the reblog button even if you don’t read the story, someone else on your dash will! SO PLEASE SPREAD THE WORD! This is so important to me❤️✊

SIGNAL BOOST BECAUSE THIS NEEDS TO HEARD AND BECAUSE FUCK YOU BREAST CANCER

(Source: )

bxnjamxn:

2SECONDS TO REBLOG COULD SAVE A LIFE

bxnjamxn:

2SECONDS TO REBLOG COULD SAVE A LIFE

Sometimes I write Erotica

It’s about 9:15 at night. My mom’s out whoring around with yet another middle aged man feeling lucky about getting a 34 year old, and in a fit of stupidity, left my younger sister and I with the babysitter. While she’s 8, and most likely in need of someone to watch her, i’m 15 and frankly offended by the aspect of someone a little older than me coming over to watch us and get paid for it. I’ve brought this up to my mom before when Sarah (the babysitter) has been called over. “Don’t you think I’m responsible enough just to watch Mary for a few hours?” I whine, leaning against the dryer. My mom nudges me out of the way, babbling about needing to have someone here with a car in case there’s an emergency, someone who knows how to do CPR in case one of us choke as I just stare at her. She’s not kidding either. I guess she’s right, I don’t drive, I haven’t taken babysitter first aid, and I don’t really have the patience to watch Mary read a book that’s too advanced for her and then ask me all of the definitions of words she doesn’t know. I’ve got other things on my mind.

For example, I’m currently jerking off. Usually I’ve got a magazine that I stole from my dad’s house, the spine permanently folded into a few pages in particular, but sometimes I like to just relax and stroke it to wind down. When I eventually come it’s usually more intense, too. I’m lying in bed, on top of the covers because it’s humid as shit, my fan is on. I’m sitting up, my head resting on the bed frame as I cup my balls in one hand and stroke slowly up and down my dick with the other. In my mind I go through some of the girls in my class, the ones that smile at me on the track as their boobs bounce in their uniforms, their hips swaying as they jog by. i imagine one of them pulling me into a bush outside of the track and slowly leading my hand up her shirt, making me squeeze them. My pelvis tingles with warmth at the thought and my hand moves a little faster.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

I sigh with relief immediately after I close the door to Mary’s bedroom, her being finally asleep. I swear, she made me read her ten books. That child can’t get enough information and stories into her little head. I’m exhausted, I’ve been entertaining and humoring her for four hours now, just stopping to eat pizza. Her older brother is in his room, has been all night. We never really talk much, Just to say stiff hello’s and goodbye’s. I know he doesn’t really like me being here, thinks he’s too old to have someone around making sure everything is okay, and I don’t blame him. I’ll knock on his door every now and then to make sure he’s alive but I usually let him keep to himself. Feeling thirsty and friendly, I walk over to his door to see if he wants anything to drink. From under his door, I see a dim light on so I’m guessing he’s awake. I knock on his door softly. “Hey, it’s me, want some coke?” I call quietly, not to wake up Mary. He doesn’t respond. I give him a couple seconds and knock again. Still nothing. Because I’m a worry wart and can’t just assume he’s sleeping, he must be suffocating or have killed himself or something awful, I open the door with a flourish and my breath catches in my throat. He’s not choking or killed himself or sleeping for that matter, he’s stroking his dick with his head tilted back against his headboard, eyes closed, looking like he’s in fucking nirvana. I stand perfectly still, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. I don’t know what to do, I’ve already opened his door, if I close it or make myself known, either way he’s going to know it. In a split second decision I knock on the wall next to the door, my eyes never leaving him. His fly open, seized in panic and embarrassment. “Oh, shit..” he mumbles, hastily pulling up his plaid boxers that were formerly around his knees. His pale face flushes deep red as I take him all in. After a second or two, it occurs to me that I should probably say something apologetic as I stand here awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I knocked and asked if you wanted some soda and then I was worried so I opened the door…” My voice trails off as I eye the erection noticeably bulging in his boxers that he tries desperately to cover with his shirt. My heart pounds for this red haired boy sitting up frantically in his bed, caught in the most intimate activity possible at fifteen years old. Before I can take control and remind myself that this boy is five years younger than me, that his little sister is asleep in the next room and that his parents are going to be home in an hour, I slowly make my way across his room and over to his bed. His blue eyes follow me in aroused confusion as I sit down on the corner of it. He doesn’t draw away from me, his legs stay right where they are. He pushes some of the hair out of his eyes, clears his throat and looks anywhere but at me. “Hey,” I whisper, barely audible, yet his eyes lock onto mine. With my eyes, I gesture down to his crotch, and then look back at him, my gaze almost burning him. “Keep going.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————-

Sarah’s sitting on my bed staring at me like she wants to maul me. I can feel my face and ears burning with embarrassment, I could’ve sworn I locked my door earlier. I might’ve gotten up to pee and forgot to relock it? I’m dumb, whatever the case may be. I’m trying to hard not to look at her, but it’s easier said than done: Sarah is really pretty, and she’s wearing tight jeans and a black shirt and I can see her cleavage and it’s AMAZING, better than all of the girls at school. I try to be real interested in my ceiling fan and wiping imaginary dust off of my face, when she speaks. “Hey,” she breathes. Her voice is so soft that I actually have to look at her mouth to see if she’s talking or not. Fuck, her mouth looks really nice. “Keep going.” it says to me, breathy and slightly demanding. Whatever hardness my dick lost when she caught me comes throbbing back into it at her words, and I look into her eyes to see if I understand her right. I clear my throat, because I know my voice will crack when I speak. “You…want me to keep doing it?” My voice sounds like trash being compacted compared to hers, I try not to think about it. She looks down at my boxers, at my hand and then at me. She has that mauling look again. “Please?” she asks me, like asking for a drink of water in the desert. My dick shoots up, and I slowly take hold of it from outside of my boxers, running my hand up and down. I glance at Sarah for reassurance that this is what she wants me to do, and that she’s not getting ready to hit me or something. She seems to be dazed by my hand on my dick; her head is tilted to one side, biting her lip. She meets my gaze and nods at me, yes, this is what I was asking for. My heart is beating fast and my face still feels red. On one hand, this kind of thing has never happened to me before, it feels strange and over-exposing, like being at the doctors and having them hold your balls while they ask about school. On the other hand, I’ve never had this much sexual contact with a girl, let alone a really hot, older girl like Sarah. The way she’s watching every move I make really turns me on in a way I’ve never felt before, deep and hot and sensual. After a minute of just rubbing myself from my boxers, I take the leap and slowly pull them down to my knees again so that I’m bare. She draws her breath in when she sees my cock, and to be honest, I kind of do, too. It’s bigger and harder than I think it’s ever been, practically begging to be touched. I wrap my hand around and start to jerk it, watching Sarah’s face and letting my eyes fall sometimes to check out her breasts. She’s breathing through her mouth, almost panting. It’s so fucking sexy I groan softly, speeding up my hand. My hand resting on my stomach crawls towards my balls, grasping and squeezing them tightly. She watches this all, her fingers clenching my top sheet. I feel as though her and I are lost in this utopia of feeling; Like it’s only us in this world right now, me jacking off and her watching me, our eyes locked on one another’s. I break the bond momentarily to let my eyes close, lean my head back and do this sightly embarrassing whimper-sigh that I’ve never heard before. While it’s a little embarrassing I can’t help it, this has never felt so good, and I’m sure it’s because she’s watching me like I’m her prey. When I open my eyes and lift my head again, she’s got her hand on one of her breasts, squeezing it. It’s my turn to bite my lip.

Take your shirt off.” she tells me, and i waste no time. I pull it over my stomach and head in the least unattractive way I can muster, and then, probably because I’m so horny, decide to be ballsy. I give her a small, horny grin I’m hoping she can’t say no to, “you take yours off.” For a second I’m just excited that I actually had the nerve to ask her, assuming that she wouldn’t really do it. But, unbelievably, I watch as she pulls her shirt off over her head in the sexiest way humanly possible, and drops it on my floor like it’s no big thing. She sits in front of me like an angel, her bare shoulders, stomach and cleavage exposed, her black bra looking tiny in comparison to her boobs. I grab my dick and stroke it, like I’m soothing it, begging myself not to come. “I have to stop for a minute…” I confess to her, all mumbles. She smiles at me, her gorgeous face crinkling sexily. “That’s okay.” She reaches over for the first time and runs her warm hand down my chest to my stomach. I automatically flex as she does so and she makes an mmmm noise. “How are you so muscular?” she muses, tracing my abs. “It can’t just be from masturbation.” I smile. Ha Ha, jokes. I like jokes. I try to say something funny too, but fail. “No, I uh, play a couple sports… one of them is masturbation, though,” Even though it was dumb, she giggles. Older guys must really like her. I wonder, for a split second, what she’s doing here with me instead of one of them. I push it out of my mind though, and focus on right now. Because she’s here, with me. Right when I feel like I can start jacking off again, she crawls across my bed and swings one long leg over my lap and puts the other on the opposing side, so that she’s straddling me. I’ve heard of people being straddled before, but I never imagined it to be this sexy. Now she’s above me, and I’m eye-level with her bra. Oh my god. “I want you to suck on my tits,” she whispers to me, one hand in my hair, the other on my shoulder. “O-okay,” I crackle, not knowing what else to say to such a desire. I don’t even know where to start, I’m so overwhelmed. I guess she senses this because she takes my hand that isn’t clutching my dick and presses is it to her chest. I gasp, they’re so soft and amazing and squishy and perfect. She slips my hand into her bra and I feel her nipple, hard and crazy feeling. My nipples never get that hard, unless I’m freezing to death or something. I squeeze it gently, I don’t know how much boobs can handle. She makes a whimpering noise, and I look up at her to see if she’s okay. She’s looking back down at me, her face in a twisted kind of agony that tells me she’s quite alright. Her hand lets go of mine and moves to each shoulder, pulling the straps down and then around her back, magically casting away this evil thing that’s been holding me back from her breasts. Once her bra has been tossed onto the floor, I lean back to take her toplessness in. She leans back too, knowing what I’m doing. I can’t get enough of staring at her, her skin, her curves, the roundness of her boobs, her nipples, her shoulders, even her belly. I can’t stop. “Oh my god,” I whisper to her, because whispering seems appropriate. “You’re beautiful.” She beams at me, touching my face, running her hand down my entire body to my lower belly. I quiver at her touch like jell-o. She replaces her hand back onto my head and pushes it towards her chest, moving in closer to me. With her other hand, she tilts my chin up so that my mouth is right on her nipple, and I just let her. I’m practically silly putty in her hands, literally. When my mouth connects with her skin, we both let out groans. I don’t know about her, but I feel like I’m going to explode. She’s breathing heavily, her nails in my hair. “Lick it, suck on it,” she hisses to me, and I do as I’m told. I lick her nipple, around it, up and down it, and suck on it like it’s my job. She’s moaning, full fledged moaning, and I can’t help but moan too, my mouth muffled by her breast. I switch to the other one and repeat the same mantra. I  don’t notice until now but she’s got her hand in her jeans, playing with herself. “Oh, my god,” I groan with a mouthful of tit when I see. This is too much. This is too good to be true. “Play with yours,” She whines to me, looking over her shoulder to make sure my dick is still there. I grab it and it’s immediately throbbing, I shudder at how fucking good it feels. I suck on her tits fervently, pumping my dick hard and panting. She’s making such amazing noises and we’re both in ecstasy, and I can feel my balls tightening up forebodingly. “Sarah,” I whimper to her, my tongue swirling around her nipple, “I’m gonna come.” In a split second she’s off of me, sitting with her legs straddling the bed now, one hand grasping her chest, the other still deep in her underwear. “Come on my tits, please!” she whisper-yells, her face etched in passion, leaning towards me. I want to scream. I want to scream her name. I struggle to my knees, my body shadowed over hers. As I pump my dick overtop her chest, I try as hard as I can to take a mental photograph of her: boobs pressed together, nipples hard, still slick from my saliva, touching herself feverishly and groaning, waiting for me to come on her. It’s too much. I grip her shoulder firmly and milk myself as hard as I possibly can. I come violently, making noises I didn’t even know I was capable of. My entire body seizes as I drench her chest with semen. I shake and breathe heavily as I watch her, her free hand rubbing my come all over her boobs, onto her nipples ( I’d still suck on them ) and the other one working so fast as her eyes squeeze shut and she comes too, her head thrown back and body clenching, panting, moaning. I watch in awe, my entire body twitching with each throb of my groin.

3 months ago     1 note     Reblog
happy-for-hell:

cancerfreak69:

So, last night, I was getting ready to go out with my boyfriend to a dance at my school (which was cancelled due to lack of ticket sales) and, I had a nice black vest and a nice white shirt, and my uncle had just came home the other day from the mine (my uncle is homophobic and he has abused me many times throughout my child hood) and when I had came out of my room to show my memere how nice I looked, my uncle was in the room that i thought my grandma/memere would be in (she was downstairs doing laundry), and he asked me why I wasnt wearing a dress. my memere and dad both know that I am transgendered and they respect that, however, my uncle does not, and he did not know. so I decided to sit down and tell him the truth. he listened carefully and quietlly through all of it, but at the end of my explanation he had said, “I didn’t raise you to be fucked up.” I agreed, I am a huge mess, I have been for years, but my sexuality and gender identity is not a fuck up, so I argued with him. he got to a point where, after so many months of piece, he slapped me. and threw me to the ground and kicked me in the stomach, of course I had puked, and it hurt, a lot. he grabbed me by the shirt and asked me, “are you a girl”, I said no, my sex is female, but my gender is male..and he dragged me to his room. he once had a big dog, and he made that dog wear an eletrical dog collar, and weve always kept it in his room, because we dont need it (my uncle killed the dog), he threw me onto the bed and said,” ill ask you one more time, are you a girl” I said no. held grabbed my wrist, and held onto it tightly, I have a bruise from how tight he was grabbing it, and he pulled out the dog collar, threw me back onto the bed, sat on me, and put the collar on me… then he began yelling, are you a girl, you are a girl, are you a girl, you are a girl, and my response of course was no, no, no, I am male, I am male. whenever I said that, he would shock me, and it was /hell/. I was screaming, which only caused the shocks to get worse and worse, and then he said, “do you want to find out how faggots have sex!?” of course I already know this, but still I said no no no no stop stop stop. my memere had finally heard me and came rushing to the bedroom, and tried to make my uncle stop, but he pushed her down, and thanked god she was okay.. since shes very fragile and all. she then ran back to the stairs to call up my dad, and oh boy did he run. he ran up stairs and shoved my uncle away from me and started fighting with him, yelling, punching, kicking, and such so on. my memere got the collar off of me and brought me into her room, and after my dad and uncle were done fighting, my uncle had grabbed the things he needed and left, shouting a few insults at us. we called the police today, but they cant find him. we dont have money for a lawyer,  all we have is a counsellor, im not going to ask for money, all I ask for is support. I dont know what this will do, but please spread this around,  this has affected me and family members greatly. I was taken to a hospital today to check if there was any damage on my insides that we dont know of and thankfully there was no damage, just scarring, emotionally and physically. i had a horrifying nightmare relating to this as well. If you have abused somebody, raped somebody, insulted somebody, in any way possible, I hope this can somehow change your way of heart, and realize how much this can horrify a person, and ruin their lives. it made my life 97x worse than it already is.

If you don’t reblog this that’s okay, but I hate you and you are wrong

happy-for-hell:

cancerfreak69:

So, last night, I was getting ready to go out with my boyfriend to a dance at my school (which was cancelled due to lack of ticket sales) and, I had a nice black vest and a nice white shirt, and my uncle had just came home the other day from the mine (my uncle is homophobic and he has abused me many times throughout my child hood) and when I had came out of my room to show my memere how nice I looked, my uncle was in the room that i thought my grandma/memere would be in (she was downstairs doing laundry), and he asked me why I wasnt wearing a dress.
my memere and dad both know that I am transgendered and they respect that, however, my uncle does not, and he did not know.
so I decided to sit down and tell him the truth.
he listened carefully and quietlly through all of it, but at the end of my explanation he had said, “I didn’t raise you to be fucked up.”
I agreed, I am a huge mess, I have been for years, but my sexuality and gender identity is not a fuck up, so I argued with him.
he got to a point where, after so many months of piece, he slapped me.
and threw me to the ground and kicked me in the stomach, of course I had puked, and it hurt, a lot.
he grabbed me by the shirt and asked me, “are you a girl”, I said no, my sex is female, but my gender is male..and he dragged me to his room.
he once had a big dog, and he made that dog wear an eletrical dog collar, and weve always kept it in his room, because we dont need it (my uncle killed the dog), he threw me onto the bed and said,” ill ask you one more time, are you a girl” I said no.
held grabbed my wrist, and held onto it tightly, I have a bruise from how tight he was grabbing it, and he pulled out the dog collar, threw me back onto the bed, sat on me, and put the collar on me… then he began yelling, are you a girl, you are a girl, are you a girl, you are a girl, and my response of course was no, no, no, I am male, I am male.
whenever I said that, he would shock me, and it was /hell/.
I was screaming, which only caused the shocks to get worse and worse, and then he said, “do you want to find out how faggots have sex!?” of course I already know this, but still I said no no no no stop stop stop.
my memere had finally heard me and came rushing to the bedroom, and tried to make my uncle stop, but he pushed her down, and thanked god she was okay.. since shes very fragile and all.
she then ran back to the stairs to call up my dad, and oh boy did he run.
he ran up stairs and shoved my uncle away from me and started fighting with him, yelling, punching, kicking, and such so on.
my memere got the collar off of me and brought me into her room, and after my dad and uncle were done fighting, my uncle had grabbed the things he needed and left, shouting a few insults at us.
we called the police today, but they cant find him.
we dont have money for a lawyer,  all we have is a counsellor, im not going to ask for money, all I ask for is support.
I dont know what this will do, but please spread this around,  this has affected me and family members greatly. I was taken to a hospital today to check if there was any damage on my insides that we dont know of and thankfully there was no damage, just scarring, emotionally and physically. i had a horrifying nightmare relating to this as well.
If you have abused somebody, raped somebody, insulted somebody, in any way possible, I hope this can somehow change your way of heart, and realize how much this can horrify a person, and ruin their lives. it made my life 97x worse than it already is.

If you don’t reblog this that’s okay, but I hate you and you are wrong

(Source: fuckshitbitchtits69lmaoblazeit)

If you support gay marriage reblog this. If you’re on the homophobic side, keep scrolling.

reachfortheflowers:

anigrrrl2:

askthefemaleeren:

image

As a bisexual, it sickens me that some people WILL keep scrolling.

As the straight daughter of a gay man, it sickens me that some people will keep scrolling. 

As a straight girl with a basic understanding of equality and love, it also sickens me that people will keep scrolling.

(Source: paulescalante)

starlorn:

twinhkie:

luxex:

tourtures:

watching-the-stars-fall-down:

persequimur:

lomaskett:

bluem-oon:

this is my brother two years ago. we were at the park, just me and him, and he turned to me and said “kayla, don’t you ever wish there were no bad people in the world?” i thought it to be a funny thing for a 5 year old to say, but shrugged it off. last year, he didnt come home from school, we thought that being only in grade prep, he might’ve decided to go home with his bestfriend without telling us, but he didn’t.  the school confirmed they saw him get on his school bus after the bell rang. but thats all we knew, the bus driver said that he had gotten off a stop early, my mother was frantically searching the neighbourhood for him. we never found him. it’s been two years and we’re still looking for him, he was such a beautiful boy, and i cant help but think the worst. he could be anywhere in the world by now, so please, reblog this, no matter where you’re from, you could save a life. xx
if you dont reblog this i have no respect for you. help save a child’s life.
this literally breaks my heart
this relates to my blog in 0 ways. but how can i not reblog this. you have to be one heartless person to not reblog this.
I really hope he is found. 
oh my god. have hope. i wish you the best of luck omg <3

We are with you

Please reblog this beautiful boy to help the family find their lost son 😢

 REBLOG THIS POST. FAKE OR NOT, I DON’T CARE JUST HELP.

this has nothing to do with my blog. but please reblog this. this seriously made me cry. i hope you find your brother, dear!

this breaks my heart

i don’t really care if this isn’t indie soft grunge or bubblegum enough and will “ruin” your blog. you could be saving the life of a young child and if you see this and choose to not reblog it then you must be a seriously terrible person. please reblog if you have a heart

if anyone self promos on this is i will come cut you.

starlorn:

twinhkie:

luxex:

tourtures:

watching-the-stars-fall-down:

persequimur:

lomaskett:

bluem-oon:

this is my brother two years ago. we were at the park, just me and him, and he turned to me and said “kayla, don’t you ever wish there were no bad people in the world?” i thought it to be a funny thing for a 5 year old to say, but shrugged it off. last year, he didnt come home from school, we thought that being only in grade prep, he might’ve decided to go home with his bestfriend without telling us, but he didn’t.  the school confirmed they saw him get on his school bus after the bell rang. but thats all we knew, the bus driver said that he had gotten off a stop early, my mother was frantically searching the neighbourhood for him. we never found him. it’s been two years and we’re still looking for him, he was such a beautiful boy, and i cant help but think the worst. he could be anywhere in the world by now, so please, reblog this, no matter where you’re from, you could save a life. xx

if you dont reblog this i have no respect for you. help save a child’s life.

this literally breaks my heart

this relates to my blog in 0 ways. but how can i not reblog this. you have to be one heartless person to not reblog this.

I really hope he is found. 

oh my god. have hope. i wish you the best of luck omg <3

We are with you

Please reblog this beautiful boy to help the family find their lost son 😢

 REBLOG THIS POST. FAKE OR NOT, I DON’T CARE JUST HELP.

this has nothing to do with my blog. but please reblog this. this seriously made me cry. i hope you find your brother, dear!

this breaks my heart

i don’t really care if this isn’t indie soft grunge or bubblegum enough and will “ruin” your blog. you could be saving the life of a young child and if you see this and choose to not reblog it then you must be a seriously terrible person. please reblog if you have a heart

if anyone self promos on this is i will come cut you.

The Yes’s and No’s of Porn IMO

Looking at the camera: No

Refuckingdiculous music playing loudly: No

Talking to the camera: No

Talking to yourself: Yes

Agonizing facial expressions: Yes

Bullshit moaning we all know is fake: No

Slight groaning that you’re trying to hold back: Yes

Cumming: Always.

Thank you for scanning this public service announcement.

6 months ago     1 note     Reblog
superdupergayy:

Brb i need air

superdupergayy:

Brb i need air

fussyfangss:

teamshercock:

utilitarianthings:

'Book on Bookis a transparent paperweight that holds down the pages of a novel. It keeps the pages from flipping and allows the user to eat, drink, or sit back while reading.

(Source: tent1000.stores.jp)