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i can’t believe i had to read this with my own two eyes

(via sclambits)


Patricia Alvarado, I Thought You Said You Liked Long Hair…, 2012.


Imagine this:
Instead of waiting in her tower, Rapunzel slices off her long, golden hair with a carving knife, and then uses it to climb down to freedom.
Just as she’s about to take the poison apple, Snow White sees the familiar wicked glow in the old lady’s eyes, and slashes the evil queen’s throat with a pair of sewing scissors.
Cinderella refuses everything but the glass slippers from her fairy godmother, crushes her stepmother’s windpipe under her heel, and the Prince falls madly in love with the mysterious girl who dons rags and blood-stained slippers.

Imagine this:
Persephone goes adventuring with weapons hidden under her dress.
Persephone climbs into the gaping chasm.
Or, Persephone uses her hands to carve a hole down to hell.
In none of these versions is Persephone’s body violated unless she asks Hades to hold her down with his horse-whips.
Not once does she hold out on eating the pomegranate, instead biting into it eagerly and relishing the juice running down her chin, staining it red.
In some of the stories, Hades never appears and Persephone rules the underworld with a crown of her own making.
In all of them, it is widely known that the name Persephone means Bringer of Destruction.

Imagine this:
Red Riding Hood marches from her grandmother’s house with a bloody wolf pelt.
Medusa rights the wrongs that have been done to her.
Eurydice breaks every muscle in her arms climbing out of the land of the dead.

Imagine this:
Girls are allowed to think dark thoughts, and be dark things.

Imagine this:
Instead of the dragon, it’s the princess with claws and fiery breath
who smashes her way from the confines of her castle
and swallows men whole.


- 'Reinventing Rescuing,' theappleppielifestyle. (via justawordshaker)

(Source: theappleppielifestyle, via fuckyeahfeministartandliterature)


"Step" by Vampire Weekend

(via aureolinkiss)

" In your absence, I added salt to everything.
Even the pies. In your absence, the dog barked
for days but I couldn’t bear to put him out
so I cleaned to the sound of his anger.
In your absence, my brother visited and didn’t
ask about you. Not once. In your absence,
I washed my hair but didn’t always remember
to fish it out of the drain. In your absence,
I let the best parts of me lay out and tan
in the sun. In your absence, I burned a lot
of candles and almost danced in my bra but didn’t.
In your absence, I kissed boys that smelled like
gasoline, boys who rubbed their hands all over
my skin, set fire to my eyelashes. In your absence,
I asked myself the questions that were hardest
to answer. In your absence, I never missed
anything more than the sound of you getting up
in the morning to brush your teeth. In your
absence, I had to start telling the truth. In your
absence, I took myself home after a first date
and swallowed his number. In your absence,
I tried to write this poem eleven times. It always
ends the same: you don’t come back and I cut off
all of my hair and sleep with the pieces. I really
wouldn’t recommend living alone. "

- Kristina Haynes, “In Your Absence” (via fleurishes)

(via deeplystained)


William Faulkner (Happy Birthday)


Bending reality,Laura Plageman