Is Somebody Gonna Match My Freak :(

is somebody gonna match my freak :(

is somebody gonna match my 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀 ??

is somebody gonna match my nastayyy ?!?!?

my argument on a feminist topic: wage gap

a common counter argument is see men use is that “men work longer hours”, it’s not abt what their being paid in all, it’s about the amount per hour, obviously theyd have more money if they work longer but if there getting more per hour that’s a problem cuz it’s not fair for women to do the same job and get less

another i see is “men typically go into engineering or science” again, if a man and a woman are doing the same exact job, they should be getting paid the same amount per hour

but lets pretend this is the reason for the wage gap, then let me now ask you this: which gender made it so that women couldn’t do ANYTHING? women going into the science or engineering field, has either not been allowed, or has been frowned upon up until the last 50 years

non of your arguments make sense to me

Petition to make

'loud, chaotic and dramatic husky girlfriend x sunshine, lovable and adorable golden retriever boyfriend'

to happen.

"Chaos follow me everywhere I go." Boyfriend x "Are you calling me chaos!?" Girlfriend

"Not all men" you're absolutely right, Sejanus Plinth would never treat me like this

devoid

i am a painter, but what am i once i put down my brush?

what am i once i don’t start conversation first

i have no purpose in my life, i lay in my room, i only go out for some water and 2 meals a day, which calories i then count

they count like a ticking time bomb, my face is numb and my tear ducts burnt out, unable to cry let alone breathe as i walk into my ocean

it was worse, i think, you should’ve seen me in January, i liked this guy so much that i got depressed

it was worse afterwards tho, i felt so used up, my energy, my all

as i drown, the water fills my lungs, weighing down on my chest as it breaks my ribs, water turns red when i take my paintbrush out of the water, continuing with my painting

just one more, maybe this time i won’t have to ask my mom for a compliment and she’ll just say i’m pretty

lustful

you were born hungry

your lustful eyes make me curl in fear

as i read over the text you sent me,

telling me everything you wanted to do with me

you never asked for a picture

and yet you apparently begged for pictures from the girl before and after me

was i not good enough?

not pretty enough?

i shouldn’t feel like this, why do i want you to lust for me? to want me.

i’m so used to being seen through a lust tinted lense

why couldn’t you just be like all the rest

why