this way

gayeskimos:

If you do not know what this picture is; let me inform you. In the late 50’s when abortion was completely illegal, women would resort to using household items to have a self-given abortion. These items included  bleach, wire hangers, and cleaning products.  So, would you rather save unborn cells, like the ones that come off your feet or body, millions at a time, or save a woman who might end up curing a life-threatening disease?  Do we really wanna step 60 years back?

gayeskimos:

If you do not know what this picture is; let me inform you. In the late 50’s when abortion was completely illegal, women would resort to using household items to have a self-given abortion. These items included bleach, wire hangers, and cleaning products. So, would you rather save unborn cells, like the ones that come off your feet or body, millions at a time, or save a woman who might end up curing a life-threatening disease? Do we really wanna step 60 years back?

"

It has never been easy. When I was sixteen, I knew every potentially fatal thing in my house: Nail polish remover under the sink. Bottle of rubbing alcohol beside it. Hammer in the tool box. Forty foot bridge across the highway. Traffic outside my window.

I thought about slamming my own head against a counter until I lost feeling. I thought about punching myself in the face until I stopped breathing. I thought about running out into the street at two a.m. and waiting until a car came.

I never thought I’d make it to twenty-five. But I told myself to stay. Just for a little longer. Just to see.

So I did. I sat silent amongst my friends, searching for a way to speak. I stopped leaving my house. I swapped sleeping for staying up all night, staring at my bedroom walls. When someone came into my room to talk to me, I started crying. But I stayed. Because I thought, if I plan on dying in a few years anyway, what do I have to lose? And some days I didn’t feel like I was being swallowed whole. Some days I sat by my pool and sang until the sun set. Some days I kissed somebody on their parent’s couch and didn’t feel lonely when I got to my own bed. Some days I listened to a really great song and felt understood, if only for a second.

I stayed. And still I thought about bridges. And hammers to the head. And swallowing acetone to cleanse my insides. But slowly slowly slowly I began to understand that it was okay to cry, and shake, and feel anything but okay. I realized that there would still be days that my fist would rise to my cheek. And still, my face would sometimes resemble a bruised peach.

But now I tear up my lists of potentially ways to die before I complete them. I replace prescription: pills, rubbing alcohol, and razors with memories of the good days. Of holding your hand through the entire state of Oregon. Of running half-naked down a snowy street three New Year’s ago. Of riding go-carts in the Canadian wilderness. Of smoking cigarettes on the beach in San Francisco with someone I met six months ago. If I had left, we would not know each other.

If you feel the same way, stay. For the good days. And the sunsets. And the people out there who understand. Stay because being submerged in black water does not mean you have to drown. Stay. Just for a little longer. Just to see.

"

Stay | Lora Mathis  

(via lora-mathis)

posted 2 days ago with 6,423 notes

thestrokesareanart:

Reptiliophelia- John Everett Millais, Ophelia (1852) / The Strokes, Reptilia (2003)
here

thestrokesareanart:

Reptiliophelia- John Everett Millais, Ophelia (1852) / The Strokes, Reptilia (2003)

here

"Why are we embarrassed by silence? What comfort do we find in all the noise?"
Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie (via lunaoki)

posted 5 days ago with 12,652 notes

infiltration:

sometimes i realize there are so many things i won’t remember in 50 years like the way the sky looked this morning and all the dogs i saw today and my mom’s voice and i get so sad i never want to forget

posted 5 days ago with 25,042 notes

ALS Ice bucket challenge accepted.

brngrmln:

there he is