king-joaquin:

Britney Spears 1999 David LaChapelle Photo Shoot for Rolling Stone Magazine

first crush, best crush.

(via mymastersnape)

femtoxic:

-imaginarythoughts-:

land-of-propaganda:

Shaun King exposes Ferguson PD lie about distance from SUV

Click here to watch the video

This needs to be brought to attention IMMEDIATELY!!!!!

I don’t even understand what they’re expecting anymore. if they can lie to us to our face and us KNOW the truth, what power do we have , then?

(via rozzylind)

the-curve-blog:

Bree’s Look // 8.16.14

Top: Burlington Coat Factory // $4.00

Blazer: Forever 21 // $24.99

Skirt: Burlington Coat Factory // $15.00

Necklace: Forever 21 // $10.00

(via curvesandconfidence)

“It is said that salt water is the cure for everything
tears
sweat
the sea
I believe, wholeheartedly, that this is fact
I have felt it
Tasted it
Known it
I have seen its medicinal virtues, tested and true
My grandmother must be in on it too
the way she over salts the water before she breaks in the pasta
lets it bubble and boil
sticks her face over steam
like the saliferous vapors will toil away her troubles
like they can evaporate into the fog clinging to her thick-rimmed glasses
I think she believes that they can disappear like ghosts
but ghosts seem to stick around longer than expected in this house
I haven’t seen her cry since my grandfather passed
But I know how salty that starch water is even after the noodles
have let their guard down and gone soft
I wonder if she sees the correlation
Sees his reflection in every bubble bursting in the red pot on the stove
I wonder if her heart still simmers
She stopped smoking two years ago, a year after his death
I wonder if she’s replaced the tar in her lungs with salt
She tells my mother she envies my ocean view apartment
in a city 493 miles and eight hours away
She lives in his house
within the walls of a mortuary dedicated to his memory
lined with photographic evidence of his existence
he was an avid photographer
tried to capture every moment
every memory
even when his mind couldn’t develop the polaroids as quick as he longed for
he’d still point, aim, flash, and shoot
they still hang there, framed in dust
I wonder how much of it is made up of particles of his skin
I can’t imagine how painful of a reminder this home is
She spends her days in her garden
Just like she has my entire life
She now tends to the row of rose bushes lining the walk to the front door
where she spread his ashes
alone
in silence
she’s allergic to roses
I wonder if she’s cried
I wonder if she’s discovered the saline oceans hiding behind her eyes
filling her hollowed out sockets
just waiting for a crack in her damn to break
for her walls to crumble
but she is too damn strong for all of that sissy crying and shit
So she sweats over her garden
sweats over the stove
day dreams about ocean breezes and salty sea air
I tell her it tastes just like the pasta water
in the red pot
on the stove
She tells me
I guess salt water is just salt water
and I can’t tell if it’s just the condensation
but there are streams rolling off the frames of her glasses”
— Salt by Alyssa Sierra Langworthy (via schmalyssa)

(via confusedastowhatthisis)

debilitating:

don’t buy me roses, pick me sunflowers.

(via weweresupernovas)