shit i thought this was myspace


❛ you inability to learn complicated handshakes is tearing this gang apart ❜
❛ i hope no one lowkey hates me. highkey hate me. hate me with every fiber of your being. go big or go home ❜
❛ my style isn’t even my style, i can’t afford my actual style ❜
❛ i feel like everyone has a teacher from high school that they’d 100% fight ❜
❛ i don’t mean to interrupt people i just randomly remember things and get really excited, i’m sorry ❜
❛ sir, you cannot name your son ‘Papa_Roach_Scars.mp3’ we just won’t allow it ❜
❛ if you asked me what my sexuality was, i couldn’t give you a straight answer ❜
❛ i just wanna wear lingerie, smell like lavender, and have soft skin ❜
❛ yabba dabba done with your shit ❜
❛ 5 years ago i was a fucking mess and now i’m a fucking mess but at peace with it and with a cooler fashion sense ❜
❛ the only reason i’m staying in school is so i can provide for my future ❜
❛ occupation: sleepiest girl on the planet ❜
❛ true friendship is willfully making someone’s emotional devastation over fictional characters worse ❜
❛ (not so) breaking news: i’m sad again and everyone’s tired of hearing about it ❜
❛ my new year’s resolution is to stop ❜
❛ people keep posting ‘what’s REALLY in your food’ articles like i’m gonna stop eating whatever it’s about lmao listen, death is coming. death is coming. pass me a hot dog ❜
❛ do you sometimes wonder why you have weird friends but then you snap and realize that you’re as weird as them ❜
❛ have you ever met someone who’s smile looks like it could make flowers grow ❜
❛ is ‘no’ an emotion because i feel it ❜
❛ i wanna be the one girl who looks really cute but also gives off the vibe that she could snap your neck if you disrespect her like is that possible for me ❜
❛ concept: me, having friends and being liked by people ❜
❛ the human body has 7 trillion nerves and some people manage to get on every single fucking one of them ❜
❛ replace my heart with another liver so i can drink more and care less ❜
❛ i need a hug and six months of sleep ❜
❛ good morning i’m obsessed with being loved ❜
❛ don’t come back when you realize that i’m rare ❜
❛ i’m stuck in between ‘i really wanna meet new people’ and ‘why can’t everyone leave me the fuck alone’ ❜
❛ can you believe some people meet each other and just hit it off right off the bat and just… date??? and fall in love? ?? that sounds fake ? ? ? ❜
❛ painfully average looking with a great sense of humor and always down to get drunk ❜
❛ people are always like ‘are you a morning person or a night person’ and i’m just like… buddy, i’m barely even a person ❜
❛ you ever talk to a stupid boy to pass time? ❜
❛ don’t talk to me or my 78 insecurities ever again ❜
❛ i’ll always have a soft spot for you ❜
❛ i hate being tickled. i do not think it’s cute, i do not think it’s funny. i will kick you in the fucking face ❜
❛ you inability to learn complicated handshakes is tearing this gang apart ❜
❛ there’s no blood in my veins anymore it is coffee and broken dreams ❜
❛ i’ll pay you $7 to have a crush on me ❜
❛ i’m a hopeless romantic… emphasis on hopeless ❜
❛ i deal with my personal problems the same way i study for tests… i don’t ❜
❛ half of me is a hopeless romantic and the other half of me is, well, an asshole ❜
❛ my biggest problem is i don’t like, do shit ❜
❛ how am i supposed to be productive when netflix just automatically plays the next episode for you? ❜
❛ a girls sleepy voice is probably the cutest thing that has ever existed on this earth ❜
❛ at like a really specific time at night i feel like i wanna fall in love or some shit but then i wake up and i’m ok again ❜
❛ i’d really like to be taken out tbh. in a date way or a sniper way. i have no preference ❜
❛ i don’t need alcohol to make bad decisions ❜
❛ i want to be one of those people who does yoga and eats berries for breakfast, but i’m one of those people who stays in bed until 4 pm and eats pizza ❜
❛ why are there waiting lists for preschools?!?! babies are small!!!! 800 could fit in one room, just stack them ❜
❛ raise your hand if you are scared shitless about the future yet couldn’t care less at the same time ❜
❛ i hate being the stereotypical emo bitch, but life sux, my dude ❜
❛ i wanna learn how to throw knives so i can throw ‘em like real close and graze somebody to let them know to shut the fuck up ❜
❛ my heart says yes but my mom says no ❜
❛ if we are ever invaded by aliens and they wanna destroy earth and whatever that’s fine, but leave old friends senior dog sanctuary out of it ❜
❛ i don’t want to get involved in the drama, i just wanna know 103% of the information on what happened ❜
❛ if i had the power to control time i would probably just use it to sleep more ❜
❛ guess who got shit done today….. not me lmao but congrats to somebody out there ❜
❛ i promise i’m a lot nicer than my ‘walking to class’ face would lead you to believe ❜
❛ why spend money on booze when i can get fucked up by conspiracy theories for free? ❜
❛ binge watching is great until you run out of the show and have to start watching it weekly like some sort of medieval peasant ❜
❛ merry crisis, everyone ❜
❛ my whole life is the one episode of friends where ross drinks all those margaritas and keeps telling everyone that he’s fine when he clearly isn’t fine ❜
❛ i’m a huge supporter of things which annoy misogynistic rich white men ❜
❛ kinda wanna go on a date, kinda wanna get hit by a truck too ❜
❛ do i even have a sexuality at this point or is it literally just ‘oh yes i’d kiss you’ ❜
❛ not interested dot com forward slash you ❜
❛ napping together is my kind of date ❜
❛ i’m trying to stop being a hater but it’s just so hard when there are so many things that need my hate ❜
❛ i need to stop imagining things i’d say in interviews if i was ever famous because i am not ❜
❛ guess who got their life together!!!!! …not me, but someone probably has ❜
❛ concept: the worst is over. everything’s gonna be okay now ❜
❛ me, giving your eulogy at your funeral: ‘we are gathered here today to mourn a friend, a relative, a companion and a loved one, and to kinkshame them one last time’ ❜
❛ one day i will take a really good selfie and you will be sorry….. you will all be sorry ❜
❛ i was so ugly in 2008 because i didn’t care about my looks, i cared about the jonas brothers ❜
❛ i’m the whole package: bitter AND petty ❜
❛ my life is that awkward walk/jog you do in front of a car when you’re crossing the street ❜
❛ i use sarcasm because flat out telling you you’re a fucking moron is considered inappropriate and is frowned upon and i was raised better than that ❜
❛ my aesthetic is looking really tired even when i’ve had enough sleep and having a lot of bad habits and responding poorly to criticism ❜
❛ yes you’re allowed to have other friends, you just have to love me more ❜
❛ i just want to be somewhere warm and making questionable decisions ❜
❛ i don’t have plans for tonight or the rest of my life if you want to have a drink or get married ❜
❛ screenshots don’t scare me, i know what the fuck i said ❜
❛ ‘you’re kind of annoying’ kind of? kind of??? excuse me. excuse you. i am fully annoying. i am very annoying. there’s nothing half-assed half-hearted ‘kind of’ about it ❜
❛ *jumps over hole in sidewalk* yeah you could say i’m pretty fucking athletic ❜
❛ i don’t ‘dress to impress’ i dress to depress. i wanna look so good that people hate themselves ❜
❛ sorry, i couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue ❜
❛ valentine’s day is coming up, i don’t know what to buy myself ❜
❛ you’re really cute and it’s ruining my life because i think about kissing you all the time ❜
❛ ‘dude, i’m wasted’ and by wasted, i’m talking about my wasted potential because i’m a lazy piece of shit ❜
❛ i may be a terrible person but at least i say please and thank you and use my fucking blinker ❜
❛ is it too late to try to be myspace famous ❜
❛ ask him if he’s good with his hands, then when he comes over, make him put together ikea furniture ❜
❛ if a woman’s hand is steady enough to put on winged eyeliner then it’s steady enough to stab you in the heart ❜
❛ please don’t get tired of me ❜
❛ finals? fuck a final. gone girl myself. ❜
❛ i really thought quick sand was going to be a bigger issue in life when i was little ❜
❛ i’m so tired of not being a multimillionaire ❜
❛ why must the cute ones (me) suffer ❜
❛ nasa actually stands for ‘not any straight aliens.’ gayliens are real and out there ❜
❛ not to be bitter or anything but i hope everyone that has ever hurt me is absolutely miserable ❜
❛ my mind says college, but my heart says isolated sheep herder in iceland ❜
❛ i am an adult oh god make it stop ❜

( you can find the other three parts here: 1, 2, 3 )

Once again I don’t have any new pictures cuz my phone is shit BUT this week I did log into my old myspace account so thought I’d treat you all to this completely not at all embarrassing photo of myself. If I could go back to 2007 I wouldn’t even tell me to stop wearing contrasting patterns or br00t4L clawing in public, I’d just colour in my eyebrows cuz what was I thinking there.

Anyway happy “last show before the hiatus”, super keen to stay up til 2am so I can cry about it in real time. Also keen for planning for Polaris Con with @bellamyblakesprotectionsquad2k17 and @forgivenessishardforus which I am uGI&6t576ghjvghf levels of excited for.

Tagging the rest of the BFC cuz they have to love me even though I was a teenage emo @ginalou16 @bellbearblake @hehmionee @dale-bozzio @adancergirl @the-ships-to-rule-them-all @jenarchis

warning; /rant

Ever since I was 11, I’ve participated in some sort of social media outlet. Xanga, MySpace, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr. For over ten years, I’ve had the trusty ear of the internet to talk to, the sturdy shoulder of the internet cry on. I’ve had the opportunity to tell almost the entire fucking planet my deepest thoughts & emotions, the cool shit that I did (and sometimes the most terribly mundane things that happened to me), or what I looked like from my best angles. I could create this snapshot of who I was as a human for everyone to study and become familiar with. The problem is, how deep should we let the personal fascination go? How detrimental to ourselves is it to not be able to keep any thoughts in, post about every detail of our days and lives? Right now I’m sitting on a plane, not able to connect to wifi, letting myself wonder where the relationship with ourselves has gone. It’s gone to shit. I don’t want to have to rely on internet gratification to make myself feel better. I don’t want to need a certain number of followers, likes, favorites. I’m not running for fucking president, I’m a musician, for gods sake. I think we’ve domesticated ourselves into expecting certain results through “being connected” on social media. Let’s say something amazing happens to you. i.e. You just got into the college of your dreams. What do you do? You post it on Facebook for your 5,000 friends (more than half that you’ve either never met or only met once), before you even call your parents and tell them. There’s something madly wrong with the picture. We do things and go places and wear cool shit so we can get a picture to prove to everyone were doing said things…rather, for personal pride and satisfaction. I’ve pulled similar moves so many times too, please don’t take me as a hypocrite. Being self aware about these things is so fucking difficult because they’ve become engrained in our very being. I want to try and focus on becoming more of my own person. Someone who needs no one’s approval or recognition, someone who is confident in their own mind and actions to live outside of the virtual realm. Focus on the important things, the things that matter, and not in some self-righteous dickhead way. The importance we place on social media and how we “seem” on our personal profiles is fucking frightening. There is no reason any of us need to crave this, no reason to become gluttons for more and more ways to impress people we’ll never even meet. I’m not saying social media is all bad. It keeps me connected with worldwide krew, helps me keep in contact with family, find new music, read the news, etc etc etc. But everything in moderation; everything within bounds. And respect to those who’ve detached themselves from the ever-addicting and life-sucking world of social media. Shoutout to tumblr and twitter and whatever other social media outlet this message is received on. Cheers and luv, all. -yazzy

the signs as embarrassing things I've done
  • aries: falling down a flight of stairs after telling everyone to race me downstairs.
  • taurus: ate Nutella even though I'm allergic and had to go to the hospital
  • gemini: talked so much my friend fell asleep while listening
  • cancer: got fucked up in class and started crying and yelling at the kid next to me for breathing too heavily
  • leo: stood up bc I thought I was winning an art award but it was for someone else
  • virgo: had the answer key to a test but was so fucked up I couldn't read it and still failed
  • libra: made my MySpace name Allie Manson
  • scorpio: messaged a boy and said lemme suck your dick later and when he arrived I was shit faced throwing up
  • sagittarius: crowd surfed in a tube top and everyone saw my nipple
  • capricorn: went down the slide on a broom when I was a kid only to have the breath knocked out of me and cry half an hour
  • aquarius: getting into arguments on yahoo answers
  • pisces: got so fucked up I refused to wear pants in public

I thought I would share a little story to this selfie. 

When I was younger, about 12 or 13, I was always insecure. About everything. I didn’t know how to apply makeup, talk to boys, or how to pretty much be a girl. In my eyes, all my friends were prettier than me, and all the other girls I went to school with were like, borderline drop dead gorgeous. Puberty did nothing for me besides give me awkward hair growth and the monthly “gift” from Mother Nature. My hair was shit, I thought my nose and my lips were too big, I had the occasional “omg I’m so fat my belly looks like whale blubber” whine. I was a mess. My self confidence was bad enough because I was in an emotionally abusive relationship at that time (he wanted me to look and act a certain way, it’s a long story), and how my mother felt weird being around me in public because of what I wore (I was going through my emo/scene phase so you can imagine my choice in apparel). I was the way I was because I literally hated my skin color. I just flat out hated myself. I was one of those self-loathing black girls who wished they were lighter so someone would love them. I would take phrases like “you’re like, a white girl in black skin”, “you’re so pretty for a black girl”, “HA! you’re super cool for a black chick” as compliments because I saw nothing wrong with it. I was someone I wasn’t. Everyday after school I would be on MySpace look at all the pretty scene queens and sitemodels (I was a sitemodel ok don’t judge me I had a separate MySpace for it and everything) who were white and wished that I were popular like them and that I literally were them. It had gotten to the point where I wanted to bleach my skin, but I decided against it. 

I joined Tumblr on January 16, 2010 because one of my all time favorite scene queens (Brookelle ‘Bones’ McKenzie if you were wondering) had a blog that was hella rad and I wanted to follow it. My first URL was fakerthanbarbie, and I would post a whole bunch of random shit (if you go through my archive from 2010, you can see my first post was me whining about my best friend not liking me back). Throughout time I saw a whole bunch of pretty “tumblr famous” people getting all these notes and compliments about their looks, and oh, how ironic- they were all white. All I wanted to be when I was younger was wanted and loved. And all for the wrong reasons. I wanted to be liked because I was “better” than most in a sense- that I wasn’t the typical black girl who was ratchet and ghetto, the typical black girl that everyone hated. That sounds horrible to say now but that’s how I felt back then. I wanted to be liked by everyone aka the pretty white scene girls. Jealousy truly is a sickness. 

You’re probably wondering why any of that is relevant to the picture. I’m making this known now because throughout the five years that I’ve been on this website, I’ve learned a lot. Not only about social issues, but about myself. By late 2013, early 2014, I realized how immature and irrational I looked and sounded, letting others define me by what they thought was alright. I realized that I am me, and I’m the best me that I will ever be. I was unhappy for the features that God had blessed me with, and I favored features that were unobtainable. I wanted fair skin, because that was, and still is, acceptable. Being my skin color, apparently, isn’t acceptable in this society. My skin color is seen as dirt, burnt, a pile of shit. I cried any chance I could because of what I looked like. I couldn’t stand looking in a mirror. I was ashamed of everything, and wanted out. I was convinced nobody would love me because of how my skin color resembled something disgusting.

But not anymore. It’s 2015, and I’m so proud to say that I’m finally happy in the skin I’m in. I can finally say that I’m black and I’m fucking proud, fuck you if you think otherwise. I’m not insecure anymore. I don’t want to drown myself in a bathtub of bleach anymore. I don’t want to trick myself into thinking that fairer skin is better skin. I don’t care anymore. I love myself now. I love my hair (real and fake), my nose, my lips, my everything. I regret ever thinking otherwise. It took a loooooooong time for me to feel this way, and I want to personally thank everyone on Tumblr. For it was this site that helped me gain confidence. Tumblr is just one big roller coaster of emotions, and I know it sounds weird say that the same website that obsessed over the IKEA monkey is the same website that made me feel better about myself. But it’s true. The more people I followed, the more ways I saw closure and happiness. It’s amazing how talking to a complete stranger can ease so much pain. I saw a different side of tumblr, where people would submit their photos to a blog that was a self-love type of page- showcasing the beauty in people’s faces. I was obsessed. Last year, I saw this blog (I forgot the name of it) that was dedicated to black women, and I saw so many post about young girl’s struggle to finding who they are and accepting the fact that black is beautiful, it truly is. Every shade is beautiful, and I want everyone to know it now. When I saw nothing but white girls on my computer screen, boy did I wish I was them. I wanted to be them just for their skin color. Now, when I see black women of all shapes, shades, and sizes, I get so happy. This picture represents how I don’t let my skin color define me. I used to never wear bright colors, now here I am in a coral crop top. I’m dark, not dirt, burnt, or a pile of shit.

If I can preach one thing over and over again for the rest of my life, it’ll be to never let yourself become less of who you truly are. Be happy with your body, your skin, every little imperfection there is. Don’t let your skin color define who you truly are. You can achieve anything you want in the world, don’t let anything  I know it’ll take a long time for you to realize that, but believe me, it’s all worth it in the end. This goes out to all my black women who are insecure, who are degrading themselves emotionally, who are looking for a reason to be happy with their skin: this is it. This will be you one day. You will be happy, I promise. It may not be now, it may not be tomorrow, it may not be next week, it may not be next year. But it will happen.

I wanted to save this until the next #Blackout but I felt the need to post it now. Nothing wrong with a little backstory/confidence boost, is there? 

So this guy who used to run in same circles as me back in college messaged me today. Last I had heard, he went to prison on some hefty possession charges, but that was like years ago. So he messages me, and I’m confused as to why he would. We weren’t close; our relationship was mostly that he slept with some of my friends and talked shit, and I threw his talk right back at him. Why’s he reaching out to me? I haven’t thought of him for years?

Then, after I asked the perfunctory “How are you?”, he said, “Trying to get my mind around it not being 2009 anymore.”

And that hit me hard. No, we weren’t close, but back when he first went in, SIX YEARS AGO, he and I saw each other, like, a couple times a week.

And that’s where he still is.

Before widespread smartphones, and MySpace still being a thing, and Netflix only having discs, and me still hanging with this group of people I haven’t seen since I was a junior in college maybe.

It was just so crazy to think of how his life literally stood still, and mine moved forward, all because he was growing some in his basement.

OH SHIT I WASN’T EVEN A LITTLE GAY BACK THEN. (okay maybe a little.)