sweetheartpleasestay

White people get so angry at the phrase, “You cannot be racist towards white people.”

I will never understand why.

Why are you so angry that you are being treated as actual human beings? You are not reduced to caricatures, but portrayed as characters. You are treated fairly, judged not by your skin tone, but by the ways that you carry yourselves, by your actions.

Why do you want to experience racism so badly? It is not fun to be mocked, dehumanized, attacked, killed, incarcerated simply for daring to exist. It is not fun to know nothing of your history or family because it was torn apart, whether through distance or death. It is not fun to hear, at every turn, comments reminding you of your lesser status as humans.

Do you really want to turn on the tv, open a magazine, watch a movie, play a video game, and not see yourself? Or, even better, to only see yourself as a criminal, as a drunk, a mocking stereotype, or as someone to be killed off? Or would you rather see fleshed out, well-written characters with lives and personalities and feelings? I know which I’d rather pick.

If I were a white person, the phrase, “You cannot be racist towards white people,” would be the best thing I could ever hear.

i finally put some thoughts into words // thedeathcats  (via christinebaranskis)

Lol I know hundreds of women who’ve done more with their lives than you so comparing me to a woman to degrade me has no effect in contrast with you, the best thing you ever did was shoot us out of the tip of your dick you loser.

Lemme tell you two things about water:

You don’t float in fresh water.

Lakes do not really have a current. Not like the ocean or sea might have.

So I’m sorry to say but if you can’t find him after 10 mins max after he dives into the middle of a fresh water lake, I have my doubts that he is alive. All the same I’m sorry for the tragedy :/

Do not ask us why we don’t stay at home and hang out with you. Do not ask us why we’re not mama’s boys. All my life all I saw was you working. And even when you “spent time” with us you were firmly glued to your computer. We don’t spend time with you cause you don’t afford us any time. Your mama’s boy is your job. Your job is what you invested in. This is what you wanted. This is what you get

I had faith that you were a good person. Despite my initial judgments. I kept them quiet. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. You even tried to fool me once and I put you in your place. Maybe you had learned? Clearly not. I had faith that you were a good person, but that faith simply turned into chaos, a broken friend and a choice. I chose against you because my faith was misdirected. You are no different than all the other men you profess to know so much about. You know so much because you are what you profess. You profess, because you practice, on my dear ones,— the ones I care for— the deeds you have long denounced. Clear as day you are not what I had expected. If faith is believing in what you do not see. Then what I have seen deserves no faith. For this we cannot be friends. Not while my dear friend mourns for your stupidity. Shame. I had faith you were smart as well. Clear as day you are not. Today would have been five months. Would— thank God. 

I just want to carve a place in this world for myself my loved ones and my pacific island people, so that when I die I can sleep knowing that these beautiful people will not fade away in time as it is expected of us, silent brown warriors of the sea forever lost to time.