The so called terrorism we are fighting, in reality, is the counterviolence created by the terrorism we commit. If we really wanted to end terrorism, we would stop participating in it.
Our strategy should be not only to confront empire, but to lay siege to it. To deprive it of oxygen. To shame it. To mock it. With our art, our music, our literature, our stubbornness, our joy, our brilliance, our sheer relentlessness and our ability to tell our own stories. Stories that are different from the ones we’re being brainwashed to believe. The corporate revolution will collapse if we refuse to buy what they are selling their ideas, their version of history, their wars, their weapons, their notion of inevitability.
(via the dopest ethiopienne)
We have a strange habit of falling back on “civility” as if every social movement was entirely civil. Like unions didn’t bust up on scabs. Like Nelson Mandela didn’t blow shit up. Like MLK would tell us all to shut the fuck up, and women never chained themselves to the fences in city squares, stormed political buildings or committed acts of arson and violence in an effort to achieve suffrage.
My specialization is in the history of revolutionary movements, and let me tell you, folks – being nice and holding hands didn’t get shit done. Or sure, it was one tactic. But never the only tactic. I wish a nice circle jerk got shit done as much as the next person, but if it were so, history would look much, much different.
Change is messy. It’s angry. It’s uncomfortable. It’s full of angry people saying angry things, because they’ve been disrespected and forgotten again and again and again and again, and they’re tired of being fucking nice because it makes you uncomfortable if they act in any way that is not deferential or subservient to you and your worldview.
(via because i am a woman)
When was the last time you said, I love you, to yourself? Or the last time you said you were proud of yourself? Said you were cute, smart, funny? You’re with this identity for the entire duration of your existence…why not cultivate a relationship with yourself by appreciating yourself.
–Children of the Tao
(via People of the Sun)
In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.
I realized, through it all, that…
In the middle of winter, I finally found that within me there lies an invincible summer.
–Albert Camus, The Stranger
(via Free Bird)
One of my roommates almost go the last line of this tattooed on his arm but wound up going with a quote from Of Mice and Men instead and I was sad.
She was laughing even as we kissed and kissed again.There is no better taste than this: someone else’s laughter in your mouth.
—Maggie Stiefvater, Forever
(via solo amor)
and what about belonging?
I have not yet found a place to be..
…so i am here
the evidence of a lifetime spent longing.
—Tapiwa Mugabe, be(longing)
(via nayyirah waheed)
When men feel inconsequential, it’s easier to blame women than it is to confront patriarchy-the true source of the diminishment and lack of meaning in so many men’s lives. When men feel unloved and disconnected, it’s easier to accuse women of not loving them well enough than it is to consider men’s own alienation from life. It’s easier to think of women as keeping men from the essence of their own lives than it is to see how men’s participation in patriarchy can suffocate and kill the life within themselves. It’s easier to theorize about powerful, devouring mothers than to confront the reality of patriarchy.
Beneath the massive denial of men’s power and responsibility and its projection onto women is an enormous pool of rage, resentment, and fear. Rather than look at patriarchy and their place within it, many men will beat, rape, torture, murder, and oppress women, children, and one another. They will wage mindless war and offer themselves up for the slaughter, chain themselves to jobs and work themselves to numbed exhaustion as if their lives had no value or meaning beyond controlling or being controlled or defending against control, and content themselves with half-lives of confused, lost deprivation. What men lack, women didn’t take from them, and it isn’t up to women to give it back.
–Allan G. Johnson
Tales of a traveling Tiger. From Princeton to California to London and beyond.
A little more than you asked for
for the girls falling in love with themselves...
Class is now in session
From theory to "Blaxis" A constant state of action and reflection rooted in Black thought(s).
thoughts about intersectional feminism, social justice, and medicine
writer. mother. part-time hippie.
something queer is coming
Cultural Empowerment for Black 20somethings
Celebrating Beauty of All Shades
A Look into Life, Love, Experience and Growth, 100 Words at a Time.
One Woman's Quest for the Richness of Self
Ink Lines of My Life
Moore To Life
a little bit of words on a little bit of everything
assorted musings and commentary by a curious human