Do You Guys See The Two Young Women On My Shirt? Do You Know Who They Are? The Two People On My Shirt

Generation Z is too young

(Huge Trigger Warning)

You say I am too young

too young to be a feminist

too young to know my own sexuality

too young to be depressed

too young to protest

too young

too naive

and they are right

I am too young

too young to be scared that one day bullets will be ricocheting in the halls of my school, that a bullet will hit my bestfriend and I’ll have to watch the light leave her eyes, and know that I will never be able to apologize for that stupid little fight, knowing I will never be able to laugh, smile, hug, or talk with her again, knowing I will never get to say a final I love you with a proper goodbye

too young to be scared of getting raped, that one day I might be walking alone and a man might have his way with me, because apparently the way I dressed was asking for it

too young to be scared that maybe one day I’ll find one of my friends in pool of her own bright red blood, her wrist slit as she lays on her bathroom floor, because she decided dying was worth it, pills like candy surrounding her, some falling out of her mouth from where she would rather be in a daze, not knowing about this reality, that I will know I couldn’t save her in time

too young to be scared of maybe seeing a face I know on the news channel one day because Zay was black and was older than he looked, and kinda seemed suspicious, so a white middle aged cop shot him multiple times for “self defense” even if Zay was unarmed and had his hands in the air

too young to be scared that my lgbt+ friends might be killed, harmed, or abandoned because all they needed was some love and acceptance, instead they get haters and rejection because they are “sinners” who are just “confused”

too young to be sobbing because of the nightly news, because I know that this world could be better but we choose not to

too young for my crying to be real and it’s just a cry for attention, because apparently we aren’t old enough to grieve

too young to be scared of war that might happen and I’m not even old enough to fight in

you say I am too young

and you are right

I am too young

too young for

GUN VIOLENCE

SCHOOL SHOOTING

SELF HARM

and

SUICIDE

along with

RACISM

SEXISM

and

HOMOPHOBIA

to be normal for me

I shouldn’t be desensitized to all of these things in this violent reality

so yes I am too young

but can you blame me

for my hyper awareness of the world around me

my generation was born with technology, so information has all been there for us

and we are told to sit still and be quiet

cause the adults are talking

but you had your chance

it is our turn to speak

and to fight for what we think is right

and for you to listen

because we are filled with a raging fire

and every breath we take is toxic

filled with hate, death, and misery

that has been so deeply implanted in our society

you say we are “too sensitive”

we are “hormonal teens who can’t control their emotions”

and therefore “cannot have an opinion”

you can no longer ignore us as we yell for change

because of the DEATH of our fellow classmates

and the BLOOD of our friends

has helped pave the way for our revolution

your generation may have won the battles

but my generation will be the one to win the war

and my generation will instill change and peace

because we grew up in a hating world that was spiraling into death and darkness

and our biggest fear wasn’t dying

it was watching your generation ruin this planet

and we shed our tears for it

but we intend to fix your careless mistakes

We are Generation Z and we will rise from your ashes like a phoenix, ready to save the day.

This was inspired by something I read on Instagram.

(Sorry for the long post. Also it’s 1:30 am so there will be mistakes.)

This is Simona getting attached to the characters the fandom hates. Again. So I vidded her because I love her so so much.

*crawls out of my hole* did y’all see this? 

I AM a female villain apologist and it IS because they are sexy. that is all

You don’t say…

Sarah Paulson at the NYC Carol premiere

“I feel a little clearer just now. We have.  All of us have. The rest is confetti. So many times and we didn’t know it. All of us. No, not a heart. A stomach. We have. All of us have. So many times and we didn’t know it. I don’t get it. I feel like I’ve been here before. We have. All of us have. So many times and we didn’t know it. All of us. I feel a bit clearer now. Everything’s been out of order. Time, I mean. I thought for so long that time was like a line, that that our moments were laid out like dominoes, and that they fell, one into another and on it went, just days tipping, one into the next, into the next, in a long line between the beginning and the end. But I was wrong. It’s not like that at all. Our moments fall around us like rain. Or snow. Or confetti. You were right. We have been in this room. So many times and we didn’t know. All of us. Mom says that a house is like a body and that every house has eyes. And bones. And skin. And a face. This room is like the heart of the house. No, not a heart, a stomach. It was your dance studio, Theo. It was my toy room. It was a reading room for Mom. A game room for Steve. A family room for Shirley. A treehouse for Luke. It put on different faces so that we’d be still and quiet. While it digested. I’m like a small creature swallowed whole by a monster. And the monster feels my tiny little movements inside. I learned a secret. There’s no without. I am not gone. I’m scattered into so many pieces, sprinkled on your life like new snow……. Forgiveness is warm. Like a tear on a cheek. Think of that and of me when you stand in the rain. I loved you completely. And you loved me the same. That’s all. The rest is confetti.” — Nellie, The Haunting of Hill House

Criminal Minds characters + best lines → Emily Prentiss

We moved around a lot when I was a kid, ‘cause of my mom’s postings. It was hard to get accepted - and when you’re fifteen, that’s all you want. You’ll do almost anything. [You got pregnant.] Yeah. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t tell my mom. Matthew suggested I talk with our priest. He said that if I had an abortion, I wasn’t welcome in his congregation. Matthew found a doctor. He took me there. He stayed with me. That Sunday, when we got back to Rome, he held my hand and walked me into the church.  Father Gamino actually stopped his sermon, but Matthew told me to hold my head up, and we walked to the front pew. [Father Gamino] and Matthew just stared at each other. It was like a battle of wills, and - and then suddenly, Father Gamino went back to his sermon. 

Crain Siblings as the Five Stages of Grief.