real-simple

i have simple needs and all i need to know is whether emily ever tried, at least, to have a conversation with any of the girls at the golden cats, knowing it might get her in trouble but still having hoping she might get some help this way. before taking the matter into her own hands and trying to run away on her own.

people seem to have trouble understanding why i’m an anti-capitalist, so i’m going to try and put it into simple, real-life terms.

i work at a restaurant. i make $12 an hour, plus tips. minimum wage where i live is relatively high for my country - the national minimum wage is $7.25/hr, and has not been raised since 2009. before taxes, working full time, my yearly income is about $22,000 a year. ($25,000 if you count tips)

at my job, we sell various dishes, with an average price of about $10-$15. we get printouts every week detailing how much money we made that week; in one week, our restaurant makes about $30,000. (one of our other locations actually makes this much on a daily basis!)

i’m not going to go into details, but after the costs of production (payroll for employees, rent for the building, maintenance, and wholesale food purchasing) are accounted for, the restaurant makes an estimated profit of $20,000 per week.

this profit goes directly to the owner, who does not work at this location. the owner of my restaurant has actually been on vacation for a few months, but still profits from the restaurant, because they own it. i have met the owner exactly twice in my year of working here.

to put this into perspective, the owner of this restaurant earns in 2 days what they pay me in one year. and that’s just from this single location - the owner has several other restaurants, all of which make more money than the one i work at. this ends up resulting in the owner having an estimated net worth of tens of millions of dollars, even after accounting for the payroll for every single worker in their employ.

now, i have to ask you: does the owner of my restaurant deserve this income? did they earn it? did their labor result in this value being created?

the naive answer would be “yes”; the owner purchased the location and arranged for the raw ingredients to be delivered, did they not?

the actual answer is “no”. the owner may have used their initial capital to start the location, but the profit is a result of my labor, and the labor of my co-workers.

the owner purchases rice at a very low bulk price of about 25 cents a pound. i cook the rice, and within a few minutes, that pound of rice is suddenly worth about $30. the owner did not create this value, i did. the owner simply provided the initial capital investment required to start the process.

what needs to be understood here is that capitalists do not create value. they use the labor of their employees to create value, and then take the excess profit and keep it.

what needs to be understood is that capitalists accrue income by already HAVING money. the owner of my restaurant was only able to get this far because they started off, from the very beginning, with enough money to purchase a building, purchase food in bulk, and hire hundreds of employees.

that is to say: the rich get richer, and they do so by exploiting the labor of the poor.

the owner of my restaurant could afford to triple the income of every single person in their employee if they felt like it, but this would mean that they were generating less profit for themselves, so they do not.

the owner of my restaurant pays me the current minimum wage of my area, because to them, i am not a person. i am an investment. i am an asset. i am a means to create more money. 

when you are paid minimum wage, the message your boss is sending you is this: “legally, if i could pay you less, i would.”

every capitalist on the planet exploits their workers for their own gain. every capitalist, even the small business owners, forces people to stay in poverty so that the capitalist can profit.

I’m gonna make this real simple, if you have a surplus of goods necessary for survival and you do not make those goods freely available in the wake of a disaster then you are committing evil and the needy are in their rights to take of your surplus what they need to survive

anonymous asked:

First I love your art it's beautiful and amazing, second I really like the way you draw tears (is that weird 😅) I was wondering if you could give me some helpful tips on how you do them?

im not sure…they are real simple srsly….but thank you dear ano <3

One cannot possibly count their blessings with their eyes closed.
Open your eyes, friend. See the beauty that exists all around you. See all of the wondrous things that are a part of your life.
—  Nicole Addison @thepowerwithin
2

A super late 1k followers gift

Real simple, I’ve wanted to recolor @ridgeport‘s NASA Sweater for a long time but lots of things happened so this took way too long to complete but it’s done now so enjoy it~ (also debut of my new ‘soft palette’)

Info:

  • No custom thumbnail (i might add one later idk)
  • 21 swatches total (one is an atari logo and the other five are extra colors i wanted)
  • Mesh is required

Enjoy~

Download: Simfileshare

The New Wonder Women Of Music.

Let’s take a minute to hop off the asses of the biggest female artists in music right now, talking about the likes of Beyoncé, Rihanna and Nicki Minaj. Let’s try to focus on the new wave of female artists we have now; the ingenious, clever, defiant and overall bossy bitches who have made the internet their home and feminism their language; talking about the likes of ABRA, Tommy Genesis, Princess Nokia and IAMDDB.

ABRA and Tommy Genesis 

ABRA

ABRA is a singer and producer born in Queens, New York but raised in London and Atlanta. She along with Father and a host of others have being one of the most recognised DIY music collectives over the years being the Awful Records family. Her style of music is mostly very soothing but aggressive at the same time. She’s just like what you’ll call a “demonic angel”, so to speak. ABRA’s loyal and trusty fan base could be due to the fact that she’s very different with her music style but at the same time easily relatable. ABRA’s style of music, creative visuals and outlandish fashion sense have made her stand out as a leading force of the new generation of female artists that will soon take over the world.

Tommy Genesis

Tommy Genesis is a rapper born in Vancouver and of Tamil and Swedish descents. She, another member of the Awful Records was described in a 2016 article by DAZED Magazine as the internet’s most rebellious underground rap queen. That’s a very heavy title to bear but she’s well worthy of the label. Her style of music, a good mix of trap and real rap, is very unique, fresh and new but weird. Her most recognised professional fashion sense mostly including crop tops, short plaid schoolgirl skirts and big combat boots is just one of the pointers to her unconventional, nonchalant and unruly persona. Tommy Genesis could as well be considered as one of the faces of the new school of female rappers.

Princess Nokia

Princess Nokia is the big-bellied, tiny-tittied, weed-smoking thug brujas, whatever that means. She is of various descents. Her music is mostly about religion, individualism, sexuality, politics and government and feminism. Her music style as described by her is world music because different people from different places in different situations can relate to her music easily. Her music and style is heavily influenced by her diverse cultures and different experiences she had gone through growing up. Princess Nokia is like a big sister to many females and many people generally as her music is a source of relief and liberation for them.

IAMDDB

IAMDDB is a fresh, new, young and buzzing act from Manchester, England. Her song “Leaned Out” has so far been one of her most successful tracks yet and has helped her showcase her name and music to bigger and bigger audiences all around the world. Her style of music being mostly harmonies and melodies over trap and hip hop beats as described by her is called urban jazz. She really does love jazz. She has earlier performed for the president of Angola in a national jazz festival in Angola. Her “Mermaid Season” campaign on social media encouraging young and teenage females to accept themselves and be simple and real have made this particular audience gravitate easily towards her music.

okay can we talk about how even was so fascinated by movies filled with epic romance and grand gestures and love you’re willing to die for and how he loved them because they were epic but when he went to make his own movie about his own love it was filled with the most mundane things, just laying in bed holding hands and goofing off at home and small smiles, because all of those moments are what real love is like, simple and beautiful and fun, he went from the characters have to die for it to be an epic love story to they can live happily ever after to the epic part isn’t really that important 

Girl Next Door

Y/N had grown up next to Harry her whole life, he had only been two years older so they got along like peanut butter and jelly, ever since Y/N and Harry could walk they had been attached at hip. He came over and would have a tea party with her, she would tug at his curls, attempting to put a crown on him, he never minded. She would run over and play soccer with him, kicking the ball around, getting mud all over her.

Harry, and everyone else, thought of her as the perfect girl next door. Her father, a lawyer, her mother a stay at home mom, a helicopter mom. She watched her daughter all the time, making sure she was studying and getting the right marks at school. She pushed Y/N to join everything and anything she could. Y/N, of course, listened. She was active in middle school, she was on student council and drama club, between those two and studying she hardly saw Harry, and the two started to drift apart.

In high school Harry had found his group, a group Y/N did not like, and her parents hated. They made Y/N cut all ties with the Styles boy. Harry had traded in his soccer ball for drinks, he traded in his silly puns for sex, and his clean skin for tattoos and piercings. Y/N at first was upset, but then she found herself too busy to care.

Y/N had started at the bottom, literally. She began as a base for cheering, and by her sophomore year she was a flyer. Her junior year she was voted as caption, which her mother loved, but Y/N, not so much. With being caption, class president, and vice president of drama club she found herself overwhelmed. Her school life began at seven am and didn’t stop till one am, she forced herself to stay awake and study, keeping college in mind at all times.

Every once and a while she would peek out her window, where she could see into Harry window. When they were little they would write notes to each other, holding them up to window. When they reached middle school they would call each other, but sit by the window and watch each other as they spoke into the phone, Harry would watch as she would giggle at a stupid joke, and stick her tongue out at him. She would watch him run a hand through his long brown curls, which he now had chopped off. Now when she looks over the room would be empty, the lights off, or she would catch him smoking out the window, blowing out the toxin into the air. When Harry looked over she was always sat on her bed, studying, or she was at her desk working on another essay. Things weren’t the same anymore.

Before Y/N would tell Harry everything, on her worst nights, when she just couldn’t sleep, Harry would climb into her window and hold her close. They would whisper to each other, coming up with plans for the future. Y/N and Harry would run off to New York, where Y/N could be a dancer on Broadway, and Harry would find his career in music, they would be the best of friends, sharing an apartment and laughing all the time. They would run out and one am and get Chinese food and walk Times Square, they would camp out to watch shows, it seemed so simple, so real, at the time. Now she’s left alone in her room, not being able to sleep, the tears leaving her eyes every night.

“Hey,” Jade places a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, grabbing the girl’s attention.

Y/N hadn’t even noticed how she drifted off, staring at her former best friend. He leaned against his locker, arm draped over a girl’s shoulder, a smirk on his lips as he looked down at her. She was giggling, her cheeks red as she trailed her hand up and down his chest.

“Sorry,” Y/N blushed, closing her locker and turning to the blonde, “what were you saying?”

“The girls and I are going to get our nails done after school if you want join!” Jade smiled, gripping her books.

Y/N smiled softly, “oh I wish,” she pouts, “but I have rehearsals.”

“You’re in need of a break,” Jade says, “how do you live?”

“I’m not sure,” Y/N responds, a breathless chuckle leaving her lips.

The bell rings and she turns, “I’ll see you tonight at the game,” Y/N called, walking down the hall.

She waves to a couple of people as she walks to her class. Once Y/N reaches her room she slips into her seat, pulling her note book and pen out. Harry walks into the room, walking all the way to the back where his friends sat. His eyes land on Y/N, she’s doing what she has done for years when she was stressed, twirling her hair around her finger and then lightly tugging on it.

Harry can’t help but admire her body in the uniform she’s wearing. She had grown up for sure, the blue and white fabric hugged her body, showing off her tiny waist and her nice handful of boobs, Harry was sure if she bent down he would be able to catch a glimpse of her bum. He frowned when Scott pulled up the chair next to her, shrugging off his letterman jacket and kissing her cheek. Just like the perfect caption of the team and girl next door she had the perfect boyfriend.

Harry hated Scott Edelman more than he hated anyone else in the world. The guy seemed to make everyone smile, he was nice, and perfect for her, but Harry never trusted him. Scott’s hand would sometimes slip lower than Y/N wanted, and sometimes his eyes would linger on her chest when she wouldn’t notice, but Harry did, he could see it from down the hall.

“How was your morning?” Scott asked, tapping his fingers on the desk.

“It was good, I went for a run, nothing big, Mr. Brown is killing me though. He just edited my essay and I have to go home and fix it tonight after the game,” Y/N answered, rubbing her forehead, “what about you?”

“It was okay, does this mean you aren’t coming over after the game?” Scott frowned.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N says.

Scott sighed, leaning back. Anytime he invited Y/N over and she knew his parents weren’t home something always came up, and he was getting tired of it.

“Are you actually going to sleep with me or are you going to be a stuck up prude for the rest of your life,” Scott whispered, anger clear in his tone, “if you loved me you would sleep with me.”

“It’s because I love you I’m going to give you this warning,” Y/N says, her voice low, she leans over so her lips are next to his ear, “if you so much as touch me when I say no, or keep pushing me to sleep with you, I will kick you so hard in the dick you won’t ever be able to please yourself again let alone another human being.”

She pulled away, sitting back in her seat, her eyes on the board as the teacher begins to speak. The rest of her day goes by quick, rehearsal dragged on too much for her liking.

Harry hardly attended football games, but tonight was different, and he was thankful his friend dragged him out. He had promised Nina, the girl draped around his arm earlier, that he would take her home after the game, but he couldn’t focus on her. Instead, as always, his eyes drifted to Y/N. She was in the air, two girls gripping her ankles, her right hand on her hip, her other up in the air as she smiled at the fans in the crowd.

“She’s hot, I hear her and Scott are getting it in after the game,” Niall remarked, handing Harry the flask he had hidden in his jacket.

Harry takes it, letting the alcohol fall down his throat, “nah, she’s too much of a prude,” Harry shakes his head, chuckling, “she’s all about waiting for marriage.”

“Boring,” Niall rolled his eyes, everyone around them stood up to cheer, “are you hanging out with Nina afterwards?”

“Maybe, she’s getting a little too clingy for my liking,” Harry sighed.

“She a good fuck?” Niall raised an eyebrow, grabbing the flask and putting it back in his pocket.

“She’s okay, maybe I’ll ring up Stella,” Harry said.

“I’m gonna go smoke,” Harry says as halftime rolled by.

He walks down the stairs and goes down the alley way to head towards the school. He stops, hearing a small sob, a sob he heard too many times in his childhood. He peeks around the corner to see Y/N pressed against the wall, Scott has her arms pinned over her head, kissing her neck.

“Stop,” she pleads.

Harry feels his blood boiling, his fist tightening, but before he can act she does it herself. Her knee bending, and kicking up in between Scotts legs. Scott groans, backing away, and she shoves at him, making him tumble back.

“Don’t ever touch me again,” she yelled, sniffling and wiping her eyes, “or I’ll report you for harassment.”

Harry watches as she walks briskly towards him, she freezes, seeing him in front of her. Her eyes are glossy, her lipstick is smudged, cheeks pink and puffy. She looks scared and her hair is slightly a mess, her arms crossed over her chest, hugging herself. They stand, eyes connected, she can’t help but not look into the same green eyes she used to love, the same eyes that would watch her dance around her room.

She drops her head, walking past Harry, her shoulder bumping into his arm. Harry sucks in a sharp breath, walking towards Scott, he hits his side, a quick and hard kick making Scott groan, “if you so much as look at her, I swear to god, I’ll kill you myself,” Harry says, spitting near his head.

Part Two