I really want to be Frigga from They call her one eye, for Halloween. I don’t even care if no one knows who I am because tumblr will know
daphne groeneveld - tom ford s/s 2015 rtw
Depression is stupid and not a thing that makes me a better writer. One time I went a whole year without writing and I stayed in bed and drank. Fuck your Bukowskisms. I want sunlight and love and running down some street I’ve never been on where it’s warm and cool at the same time and I’m smiling. I want nothing to ever be bad again- and I don’t mean that I want a life free of conflict, I mean that I want a life free of meaningless conflict. Not being able to will oneself to take a shower or leave the house is meaningless. There is nothing to be gained, no lesson to be learned from that kind of life. My heart is stale, my prose is stale. Give me fire if you want to hurt me. Give me something I can taste. There’s nothing romantic or mysterious about where I am. There’s nothing here worth holding onto.
Uma Thurman by Ellen Von Unwerth
me: i have depression
person: *suddenly becomes mental health expert, nutritionist, spiritual guide* why dont u try yoga why dont u eat lots of fruit maybe u should exercise have u tried keeping a journal have u tried yoga have u tried meditation have u tried sitting in the sun have u tried patting a dog have u tried exercise yoga in the fruit sun yoga yoga
Isn’t it time to acknowledge the ugly side? I’ve grown quite weary of the spunky heroines, brave rape victims, soul-searching fashionistas that stock so many books. I particularly mourn the lack of female villains — good, potent female villains. Not ill-tempered women who scheme about landing good men and better shoes (as if we had nothing more interesting to war over), not chilly WASP mothers (emotionally distant isn’t necessarily evil), not soapy vixens (merely bitchy doesn’t qualify either). I’m talking violent, wicked women. Scary women. Don’t tell me you don’t know some. The point is, women have spent so many years girl-powering ourselves — to the point of almost parodic encouragement — we’ve left no room to acknowledge our dark side. Dark sides are important. They should be nurtured like nasty black orchids.
All the Colors of the Dark (Tutti I Colori del Buio) | Sergio Martino | 1972