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The incomparable Vivien Leigh.





Licia Ronzulli, member of the European Parliament, has been taking her daughter Vittoria to the Parliament sessions for two years now.

Every time this is on my dash, it’s an automatic reblog.


My inspiration and life goal

(via mz-tats)



Oh. My. Gosh. Nicki Minaj#Anaconda AlexanderWangNY#nyfw #ss15 gvsgvs


Nicki is so petty I love it!

(Source: nickiroyale, via musingsofanawkwardblackgirl)



Nychos The Weird,  “Street Anatomy”

Artist on Tumblr | on Behance  | Instagram | Flickr: RABBIT EYE MOVEMENT

Beautiful paintings and street art creations by Austrian artist NYCHOS The Weird bursting with talent his characters to expose their anatomy layer by layer …

(via asylum-art)

"At the bottom of her heart, however, she was waiting for something to happen. Like shipwrecked sailors, she turned despairing eyes upon the solitude of her life, seeking afar off some white sail in the mists of the horizon."

- Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary (via seabois)

(via daddyfuckedme)


relatable posts here


Tori Amos- Parasol

This is one of my favorite under-appreciated songs. It’s the opening track from Tori’s 2005 album, The Beekeeper, an album most of her fans cite as her worst due to its general softness, a few truly shitty songs (I’m looking at you Ireland!), and the adult contemporary production. However, I’ve always found that upon closer examination, the sunniness and softness of the production is a sharp contrast to the dark themes of betrayal and loss prevalent on much of the album.

Before I get into my interpretation of the song, let’s see what Tori has to say, from her (excellent) book Piece By Piece, ""I saw a painting by Seurat - Seated Woman With A Parasol - in a book on Impressionism. I was drawn to it and I started to think about Victorian women and then some women today, the type of women who don’t want to intimidate their partner and so allow themselves to become reduced so the other person can feel confident.” In the aforementioned painting, we see a faceless woman dressed all in black, turned away from the viewer and staring off into the distance. She is a beautiful but non-threatening presence, calm and stoic within the nothingness she’s been placed in, but the darkness of the painting gives the viewer a sense of unease, a vibe that trouble is brewing. The song utilizes the painting as a jumping-off point to tell the story of a woman who surrenders her power, control, and self in order to avoid dealing with the deep betrayal of someone (judging by the rest of the album, Tori’s husband, but let’s disassociate artist and art for a bit) and become like the Seated Woman, “safe in [her] frame”.

It begins with Tori repeating “when I come to terms, to terms with this”, psyching herself up to either deal with the betrayal or forget about it. The narrator is trapped in the moment, unable to move forward and in deep pain but knowing a decision will have to be made. The vocal performance for the initial choruses and verses has a tightly coiled intensity, with Tori keeping her characteristic wails and belting under wraps, which adds to the narrative of a woman struggling to control herself and resign herself to her situation. The chorus makes it clear that the woman feels if she can be stoic like the Seated Woman, she can act as though none of this happened and protect herself from pain. But of course, turning yourself into a character in your head and letting someone get away with hurting you takes its own mental toll.The wording of “safe in MY frame” here is important as well. The narrator wants to lose herself and become the character, but still wants to define things herself and keep some of her authority within the relationship.

In the second verse, the narrator is convincing herself she’s fine with the path she’s choosing, acting as if she doesn’t need anything beyond her wall and herself. The “sea view” here is a reference to the Seurat painting Sunday at La Grande Jatte, which the woman with a parasol was a study for, but can also be seen as the narrator denying the outside world and refusing anything she can’t control in her own head. It’s interesting to note in this performance the sultry look Tori shoots the camera at this part, and the knowing smiles during the chorus that follows. She’s acting as if she can still maintain her sexual power and confidence even as she boxes herself in, but it’s all surface. The repetition of “when I come to terms with this” releases that pent-up power that’s been simmering since the beginning and shows that the narrator has, of course, not completely managed to convince herself of her decision. Despite this, the return of the chorus shows that she’s determined to remain unfeeling. She’s had her meltdown moment, her moment of rage where she could have broken free, but will not stray from the chosen path. (On a shallow and unrelated note, how awesome and hot is that hair flip at 3:17?)

The ending of the song is by far the most powerful part. First off, her vocals from 3:30 until the end are stunning. A soft sadness returns to the chorus, and the last “I will be safe in my frame” is by far the most affecting moment of the song. It’s here that we see Tori/the narrator realize the cost of denying her emotions this way, the true sadness at the loss of self she’s experienced, and it comes across in both the vocals and the facial expression. Becoming the woman in the painting means losing herself completely, and we see the shift to “in your house, in your frame” as she realizes she’s let herself be defined and controlled by another person. She thought she could still have the power implicit in staying “safe in my frame”, setting the terms herself, but by the end she knows she’s lost even that. Ultimately, the narrator ends up betraying herself on a much deeper level than anyone else could.

Submitted by @hveasey

"have you considered that maybe i am not pleasant?

maybe i wear lipstick so that
you will see my pretty pink mouth
wrapping around a coffee cup lid
and be distracted enough not to notice
that i am intelligent and powerful;
a threat.

maybe i draw my brows into high arches
so you will look at my unimpressed skepticism
and overlook my spiteful glare
as a trick of my silly, girlish routine.

maybe i wear my heels so high and thin
so that i grasp your attention with the sway of my hips
as i listen to the click-clack-click against the floor
and know that if you should try to overpower me
i walk on sharpened knives.

maybe when i laugh at your worthless jokes
i am really baring my fangs
waiting patiently for the day
that i sink them into your neck.

i am not made of porcelain pleasantries;
you will find that these things are my armor
to keep you at a distance
so you do not step on me and shatter
my fragile control.

i am not a husk — i am not wilting.
i am turning my head
so that the fire blazing through my eyes
does not catch on the accelerant of your sweaty palms
and burn your bones to dust.

i am not your pretty girl;
i am a fury, a faerie, a phoenix —
a forest of werewolves and wendigos
that will carve out your chest
so that the next time i paint my pretty pink lips
i will taste the copper tang of your dying breaths."

- R.K., I Am The Wolf Only Barely Contained  (via ki-r)

(via arseniccupcakes)


“They say I have a sweet ass, nice tits, a real pretty dress. They say I’m their future wife, or I’d look good with their dick in my mouth. They try (and probably succeed at times) to take pictures down my shirt. They ask if they can get my number, they ask where I live, why I’m not smiling, why my boyfriend lets me walk around by myself. Then they ask why I’m such a bitch, if my pussy is made of ice. They say that they never do this, as though I’ve somehow driven them to inappropriate behavior and deserve it. They say they’re just having fun, trying to pay me a compliment. Pretty frequently they get mean, slipping into a loud tourettes-like chant of bitch-whore-cunt-slut.
Before you try to tell me that it’s because I take my clothes off for a living, let me tell you that this started way before I was 18. Let me tell you that every single woman I know has at least one truly terrifying story of street harassment and a whole bunch of other stories that are merely insulting or annoying. Let me remind you that in a room of pornography fans, who have actually seen me with a dick in my mouth and who can buy a replica of my vagina in a can or box, I am treated with far more respect than I am walking down the street.”

John William Godward, Athenais. 1908, oil on canvas. Private collection.


Unfriendly reminder that in America it’s reasonable to say an unarmed black kid deserved to be shot six times because he might have robbed a convenience store, but a white kid shouldn’t be kicked off the high school football team just because he violently raped a girl.

(via worlds-within-worlds)


remember that time Paris Hilton made fun oh herself on Supernatural


this actually happened

(Source: marketwarriors, via thefuuuucomics)