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i didn't know they looked

@ididntknowtheylooked

i'm sorry i don't laugh at the right times
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ididntknowtheylooked
neverrr-surender
It’s Monday. I’m going home at 6pm and a middle aged man and a teenage boy are the only people left on the bus with me. I consider the fact that because the driver is also a man I am the only person left on the bus with the correct genetic makeup for boobs. I’m automatically scared, scared because of my own anatomy. I wonder how old I was when I realized that my own body was going to be the cause of the constant anxiety and fear I feel in situations like this. I get off at the last stop and the older man smiles at me while following me up the street. His smile drips, drips, drips and my heart is pounding, pounding, pounding. He turns off down another road, but I run the rest of the way home. Not all men. I’m at home on a Tuesday, beginning to plan the travels I want to go on next year. I dream of wandering the streets and meeting strangers. I just can’t wait to escape the city I’ve lived in for 17 long years. But… my mum is hesitant. She’s forever worried about the danger that being a young girl traveling alone can bring. I’ll be alone and she’s scared. Surely I’m invincible. I feel invincible. But I know, I know this danger is real and I can’t help but think to myself, if I feel unsafe in my own city, how am i going to feel in a strange place with strange men who don’t speak the same language as me? If I was my brother planning this, I would probably just be wondering if European girls are going to be hot. Not all men. Wednesday is a beautiful sunny day but I’ve always been told that I don’t have a “nice enough body” to wear a bikini on the beach. Ever since I was 6 years old I’ve thought that having tummy fat was ugly. That skin that doesn’t have a perfectly golden glow is undesirable. I amble to a clear patch of sand in my one piece and I can feel pairs of eyes latching onto me. Hairy men in speedos who I don’t look twice at eat into my body with their stares. I’m a piece of meat. I am a piece of meat? I am here for their amusement. Please don’t let me be eaten alive. Not all men. Thursday night two friends and I are walking to our god damn school dance when we hear “Jesus look at you! You sluts heading to a pole?” These words snarl out of the mouth of a respectably dressed man and we stop in horror. Shivers roll up my back in fear. It’s dark. We are alone. What. Do. We. Do??? One of us pulls the finger back. I can never be sure how quickly a sexist man can get angry so we walk quickly away. We’re angry, so so angry. But also so… deflated. I wonder if we deserve this shame. Not all men. Sitting on the internet, Friday night and scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed: “Haha, good job at the game today bro. You RAPED them!” “Damn with tits like that, you’re asking for it :P” Another sexist comment… Another sexist comment… Another sexist comment… I’m shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and I want to CRY because these boys don’t realize how small they make me feel with just pressing a few keys. I see these boys on the streets, I talk to these boys, I laugh with these boys. Dear GOD, dear GOD i hope these boys don’t think actions speak louder than words… Not all men. Three rules that have been drilled into me since I was young run through my mind at 1.30am on a Satur… Sunday Morning: -Don’t ever talk to strange men -Don’t ever be alone at night in a strange place -Don’t ever get into a car with a stranger I break all 3 of these laws as I pull open the taxi door. Making light conversation with the driver, he doesn’t see my sweaty hand clutching the small pocket knife I keep hidden on me at all times. He doesn’t even realize the fear I feel at his mere presence. He cannot comprehend it, he never will. How easy would this 15 minute car ride be if I was born a boy? Not all men. It comes to Sunday, another snoozy, sleepy, Sunday and someone has the AUDACITY to tell me not all men are rapists. I say nothing. I’m a 17 year old girl. When I am walking alone and it’s dark, it’s all men. When I am in a car with a man I don’t know well, it’s all men. When men drunkenly leer at me on the streets, it’s all men. When a boy won’t leave me alone at a party, it’s all men. Not all men are rapists. But for a young girl like me? Every one of them has the potential to be. Not. All. Men.

a piece i wrote for an english assignment about my personal experiences with rape culture, in particular with the saying “not all men” which i know has been makin a lot of controversy on the internet recently! idk just wanted to share (via trueho)

ididntknowtheylooked
dreamsandthesea
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beetledrink

@staff if you show me that Benedict Cumberbatch teapot thing again I’m going to walk down to your headquarters and put pebbles in all your shoes and I will not stop putting them back in every time you take them out until you alleviate my suffering

ididntknowtheylooked
ididntknowtheylooked
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inkskinned

the thing is, somebody cares. i know your best friend seems really busy all the time and is shit at texting but she still loves you and she talks to you more than she talks to anyone else and you’re the only breath of calm she has on this planet. the boy in your science class loves seeing what music you’re listening to on your headphones - he has the same taste and wishes he had the nerve to ask you about it. your english teacher loves the insight you have on your papers. somebody cares. the person who lives down the street from you notices when you are sick because they don’t see you stomping your way to the schoolbus - it’s how they know it’s time to get their breakfast ready. somebody is looking for you at the party, even if they don’t know they’re really looking for you - but when you don’t show up, some part of them is disappointed. somebody is looking for you in the library, in the spot where you eat lunch, in front of that one step you always seem to trip on. i know your parents are a complicated mess and there’s drama between your friends and your love life is sort of shaped like a constant question and everybody seems all caught up in their own lives and their own happiness and nobody really notices: but somebody always does. every face in your dreams is someone you have met, and that means that you are in a million’s stranger’s heads. they see you when they go to bed. and somebody cares. somebody still thinks about you even though you were just a person with a nice outfit or good eyeliner or a great smile or because you were having one of those moments that are so charmingly human in nature or because they regret not asking if you needed help when you fell or because they wonder what you were thinking about or drawing or writing or just because you’re alive, and that makes you fascinating. somebody cares. when you were on break from work and saw a dog hanging his head out of the car and suddenly broke into a smile: there was a girl in the back of that car, and I was her, and I still think about you, and i hope you get more chances to smile like that. and there is you, sitting here reading this, and by some small extension, meeting me, and i am telling you, I care. somebody always does. i promise. i promise. you are loved.

ididntknowtheylooked
coral
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alltheworld-willbeyours

Do you ever notice yourself getting bad again…like, you know you’re not doing work that needs to be done, you know you’re not cleaning, you know you’re not taking care of yourself…you know all the things you need to do to start trying to feel better. But you just can’t. And you’re left feeling like shit bc you thought you were getting better but here we are

ididntknowtheylooked
masterpieceimade
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senatorgana

every Ross i’ve ever met thinks he’s a Chandler

when i asked my girlfriend if this was me, she said “no ross would second guess themselves. only chandlers are concerned they might be rosses”

ididntknowtheylooked
c-teardrops

Let me tell you how I out thieved these two thieves at work.

So I work a retail job on top of many other jobs, and these two girls were in and out of my store at least 8 times. Which is sketchy and pretty much a give away that they were quite obviously stealing things, I’d see them stick their hands in their pockets or in their bags, but I was the only person at work today so I couldn’t stop checking people out in order to confront them…..which im sure they noticed.

Fast forward a few hours when they finally come back in, they had decided to purchase something to seem less suspicious. A 4$ pair of pearl earrings. At this point there is no one else in the store so I think Game On.

While they were scanning the shelves for anything else they might want, I’m looking at their pockets. I can clearly see the small ring through the fabric that they swiped earlier, the outline of tags shoved in their back pockets, amateurs.

Now for those of you that don’t know, I was stranded in Ireland for about a month with little to no money when I was a teenager and had to resort to being shady to get by till my cousin got me a ticket home. 

Long story short, I am an excellent pick pocket. But I only use my powers for good instead of evil now. 

So I followed them around the store pretending to bump into them as I put items back on the shelves, I stole NOT ONLY the product that they took, but everything in their back pockets. Now before you wag your finger at me just hold on a minute. They come to the register to get the one item they decided to pay for, and I’m smiling the whole time.

 I tell them they price and then…I wait. 

The one girl frantically patted her pockets, clearly confused and she looked at the other girl to ask “Where’s my money at?”  This girl is clearly upset at this point and I suggested “Oh hey maybe you dropped it?” in the most sincere retail voice I can force my vocal cords to produce. Her and her friend drop to their knees and start searching for it. I let them continue like that for 10 minutes before I tell them that I had found it earlier and forgotten. 

“You really should be careful the more you have in your pockets the easier it is for your money to fall out :)))))” I say, the statement unnerved them, they didn’t know if i KNEW or not. But they awkwardly shook it off with a laugh and I start to ring up the earrings again. BUT THIS TIME, I reach over the counter and start to ring up the items I had taken from their pockets. I dropped the tags on the counter and the merchandise hit the table hard, just like these girls mouths hit the floor. 

You should have seen their faces it looked like someone had sucked the very essence right from their bodies. “Oh no she did not.” The one girl whispered as she checked her pockets yet again. Yes, Yes I did :) i’m beaming, their reaction added ten years to my lifespan. They apologize, laughing it off like it was a funny joke. But I’m not done yet.This time I look them dead in the eyes and go “Would you like me to ring out whats in your bags too before security gets here?” 

Shock, pure dismay and anguish come over them, they look at each other. Each of them looks at me like I have personally came and shot their dogs. I AM LIVING, I’m reveling in the situation. Slowly, they lift their bags and dump out more products than Mary Poppins could shove in her bottomless purse. I start ringing it all up. They look horrified. A total of 400$ worth of items. I hold the fate of these girls in my hands and they know it. Over 200$ is a felony larceny charge. But I think they have suffered enough and jail is not fun so I present the ultimatum. 

“You buy it all and I’ll let you go.” 

and that is how I made all my sales goals and fucked with some shoplifters. 

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kiloueka

Holy shit ur my idol, that was so beautiful I might cry

ididntknowtheylooked
Anonymous asked:

Hope you are having a lovely day and that life is treating you kindly 💕

I don't know when you sent this but thank you so much