BIO ASK ME THEMES HOME
My name's Meghan. I'm a 20 year old history major with no real sense of direction. I like a lot of things, but I dislike a lot of things, too. That's about it.
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FUCK writing essay exams.

As if there wasn’t enough pressure to write an acceptable essay in a writing-intensive course, LET’S MAKE IT WORTH 30 FUCKING PERCENT OF YOUR GRADE.

nbd.

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gothiccharmschool:

I admit, I got chills watching this. Teaser of the documentary being made on the making of Harry Potter

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Things I like

  1. the smell of tattoo shops
  2. candles
  3. cold green tea
  4. baths
  5. sex in the shower
  6. underwear shopping

Things I dislike

  1. my bedroom, now that it’s my mom’s office and not my bedroom
  2. this paper I’m writing
  3. my thighs
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im tired of seeing people that only wanna lose 5lbs on here. REBLOG this if your UGW is 20+ lbs away. I will follow you.

harleyquinnheartsharks:

Oh more than that

(via makeeachangee)

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notagoodname:

When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother, “What will I be? Will I be pretty? Will I be pretty? Will I be pretty? What comes next? Oh right, will I be rich?” Which is almost pretty depending on where you shop. And the pretty question infects from conception, passing blood and breath into cells. The word hangs from our mothers’ hearts in a shrill fluorescent floodlight of worry.

“Will I be wanted? Worthy? Pretty?” But puberty left me this funhouse mirror dryad: teeth set at science fiction angles, crooked nose, face donkey-long and pox-marked where the hormones went finger-painting. My poor mother. 

“How could this happen? You’ll have porcelain skin as soon as we can see a dermatologist. You sucked your thumb. That’s why your teeth look like that! You were hit in the face with a Frisbee when you were 6. Otherwise your nose would have been just fine!

“Don’t worry. We’ll get it fixed!” She would say, grasping my face, twisting it this way and that, as if it were a cabbage she might buy. 

But this is not about her. Not her fault. She, too, was raised to believe the greatest asset she could bestow upon her awkward little girl was a marketable facade. By 16, I was pickled with ointments, medications, peroxides. Teeth corralled into steel prongs. Laying in a hospital bed, face packed with gauze, cushioning the brand new nose the surgeon had carved.

Belly gorged on 2 pints of my blood I had swallowed under anesthesia, and every convulsive twist of my gut like my body screaming at me from the inside out, “What did you let them do to you!”

All the while this never-ending chorus droning on and on, like the IV needle dripping liquid beauty into my blood. “Will I be pretty? Will I be pretty? Like my mother, unwrapping the gift wrap to reveal the bouquet of daughter her $10,000 bought her? Pretty? Pretty.”

And now, I have not seen my own face for 10 years. I have not seen my own face in 10 years, but this is not about me. 

This is about the self-mutilating circus we have painted ourselves clowns in. About women who will prowl 30 stores in 6 malls to find the right cocktail dress, but haven’t a clue where to find fulfillment or how wear joy, wandering through life shackled to a shopping bag, beneath those 2 pretty syllables.

About men wallowing on bar stools, drearily practicing attraction and everyone who will drift home tonight, crest-fallen because not enough strangers found you suitably fuckable. 

This, this is about my own some-day daughter. When you approach me, already stung-stayed with insecurity, begging, “Mom, will I be pretty? Will I be pretty?” I will wipe that question from your mouth like cheap lipstick and answer, “No! The word pretty is unworthy of everything you will be, and no child of mine will be contained in five letters.

“You will be pretty intelligent, pretty creative, pretty amazing. But you, will never be merely ‘pretty’.”

(via cormack)

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whenlovemetdistruction:

tellmomimsorrythislifeisaparty:

yourrgracefoundme:

un-damaged:

icantfallasleepbutisurecandreamm:

is this real life.

im almost crying with excitement.. 

goosebumps, ALL OVER.

Oh dear God.

Omg<3 I have been waiting for this<3

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD.

(via whenl0ve-metdistructi0n-deactiv)

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I’d like to be thin. As much as I’d like to say I don’t buy in to society’s ideals on physical attractiveness, I can’t help but feel that I take up way too much space.

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(Source: fabreezus, via perfecti0ns)

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I want to show Alex the “America” post with all the pictures of crying eagles, but I can’t find it anywhereeeee.

Does somebody have it on their dash / would they be so kind as to point me in the right direction? Thannnnnkssss

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