“And as a descriptor, it’s far more likely to be lobbed at women. I don’t know a woman alive who hasn’t been told at some point or another she’s being needy for anything from having a case of the feels to wanting to talk about something, you know, more than once or longer than five minutes.”—http://jezebel.com/what-does-it-even-mean-to-be-a-needy-girl-1475068866
Let me get this right, you’re pissed off because you took naked photos of yourself that you’re not proud of, sent them to someone with misguided trust and then, instead of getting angry with the person who submitted your photo, you get mad at someone who ran a user-submitted blog? Then you were also stupid enough to put private details out on the internet of your address and phone numbers?
Why can’t people accept that they’re at fault instead of trying to pin their problems on someone else?
If you don’t want people knowing private information or seeing you naked, don’t make available to anyone.
You send your photos to your boyfriend or husband, and then when things fall apart, in revenge, HE submits your photos and personal information to a website created entirely so a bunch of sociopaths can harass women and ruin their lives basically for hurting some dudes feelings, and the person you think needs to put on their big kid britches and take responsibility for their actions is the woman who was victimized first by her creep of an ex by utterly violating her trust, again by a man who hates women so much he created an entire website whose sole purpose is humiliating and harassing them, and then yet again by a bunch of immature losers who apparently have nothing better to do with their time than sit around and torment women they don’t know and who have never done anything to them?
And that’s not including the fact that nearly half of the stuff on that site was submitted by hackers who hacked into private accounts they were never supposed to have access to or were completely fake images altogether.
This is basically saying, if you don’t want people to see you naked, publicly humiliate you, harass you, and possibly even cause you to lose your job, never show your face in public ever. Which is ridiculous.
Maybe the men who are doing this should stop being fucking woman-hating sociopaths and try not posting the personal information and naked pictures of women who didn’t give them fucking permission to do so and not harassing total strangers just because their warped creeps who get off on making other people miserable. Jesus fucking christ.
“he was probably a really good liar. men sometimes have that ability, you know? it was his fault, not hers.”—deb morgan, delivered with just enough pain to say “you hurt me” but with enough cold detached bitterness to convey how she can’t afford to give a fuck about liars like quinn. perfect perfect, very good use of passive aggression 10/10.
i think you're one of the prettiest ladies i have ever seen. and you're so intelligent too, based on your posts. i really wish i knew you in real life :(
this is so sweet. i’m sorry i didn’t answer sooner, it’s just i feel like a liar because i’m only pretty on the internet. i’m only pretty when i make certain faces. and i’m so vain and i wonder if that has the effect of bravado and adds to the falsehood. sometimes i do think i’m intelligent, but only sometimes and sometimes i think it’s meaningless anyway and what i mistake for intelligence is just extraordinarily elaborate insanity. and see, i feel that by feeling all this i’m letting you, people, everyone, down. no one wants to say a nice compliment and get such a soul-crushing response. people say nice things to spread nice feelings, and if you don’t have a nice feeling you’ve made them fail. people should get to feel good if they’re nice. kindness should beget internal warmth. i want a world that does that. i’m crying, i’m sorry. i’m not alright right now, inherently. when i first read this message it made the day i read it on, better. you should know.
Ev gave me a netbook that i get to use while mine is being senselessly awful (not charging or even recognizing the fact that it’s plugged in) and without it right now, even with my old netbook, i wouldn’t be able to as reliably and successfully blast bikini kill and julie ruin (1998) and lana del rey (all three of those things together, maybe plus fiona apple, represent me as a person) to drown out motherfucking family guy being played on the tv right outside my room. i have so many death fantasies about seth macfarlane right now, so many so violent, ugh. i am kinda freaking out about how not at home i feel in my home. i am freaking out about a lot of things. i can’t breathe, god damn.
everything is making me want to throw up, out of nowhere. sex love happiness humanity no gross ow stop vomit ugh why who not me. no no no no no no no my brain, no no no no. I feel so bad about myself. I, I try not to focus when it gets bad.
i love this song but i need to stop listening to it like really really need to you should only listen to this song if 1. it’s really necessary (there are many reasons this might be so) or 2. if you are feeling really emotionally stable and good and solid, super super solid. or at least reasonably solid.
and like, not, if you are feeling exhausted like your brain is crying and time is losing the little meaning it had and the edges of your reality are blurring and dissipating and when you try to pull them back into focus they warp more rapidly for the attempt
sadness with a reason calls for expression and creativity and cleverness but sadness with no reason makes your brain feel like it’s buzzing with nothing like an aggressive kind of nothing like a white noise stopping higher thought
being too into that tough strong girl bullshit is always so transparent to me, comically so because even dudes who aren’t otherwise assholes sometimes have giant blinders on about it, as if fetishizing a specific type of woman is totally okay as long as she’s “strong”. at least the ones who fetishize weakness don’t think they’re being fucking progressive and periodically pat themselves on the back for it.
also this always makes me like, extra grossed out because fetishizing this very specific type of strength shits on other kinds of strength and reinforces all the same like, strong female character bullshit ugh vomit “if you’re not a violent functional alcoholic who is charmingly closed-off and hates dresses/the color pink/emotions/things that are ‘for girls’, you’re weak and inferior and SUPER boring” vomit vomit vomit
but the thing is, i’m not freaking out at the prospect of solving a difficult problem. i’m freaking out because i feel CERTAIN that it is 100% unsolveable. it just is. feels. is. those two things are functionally the same.
oh fuck oh fuck my netbook won’t charge. it’s just sitting there plugged into the wall with a slightly dimmed screen reflecting the fact that the battery is slowly depleting despite how it’s PLUGGED INTO THE WALL why doesn’t it know it’s plugged into the wall? the charger likely isn’t the issue, it’s in fine condition and no change of position has any impact. i really really believe right now that things were going too well, and so life decided to take away my computer so i wouldn’t do something stupid like worry less or breathe out. like a reminder. i don’t believe believe but i panic-terror-believe it is broken forever now, fuck.