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i need to smoke a blunt and watch some gut-wrenching cinema
xo
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she strikes again! man down!
no one can hurt you like your mother.
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no one can hurt you like your mother.
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it’s all god forbid a girl this and god forbid a girl that how about god forbid a girl do anything without shame. take that god
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me and my MacBook against the world
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i have this constant feeling of wanting to leave all the time, i don't know when, i don't know where, but i only know that i want to leave
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when you meet any teenage girl, how you find out who she is, is you go in her bedroom. and every girl has a wall that's covered with her heroes, and the things she loves and that where she's assembling the blueprint of who she's going to be. that's how she's going to be an adult woman. she's going to take all of these little pieces of all these things and turn it into herself.
caitlin moran
#girlblogging#teenage girl core#girlhood#coming of age#caitlin moran#spilled ink#everyday poetry#films#i love girls#how i love being a woman
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asking google to find the thing i only remember in fragments like:
ummm gooogle? remember that thing i watched 6 years ago? yk...the interview with ummmmm... shes like helena bonham carter coded but not herrrrr.... hmmmm. anyway she said something about girlhood and it was inspired by a movie. it might've been booksmart. no, not booksmart but something like that... i like cried when i heard it and told my friend you MUST remember omg.
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swans die in the Spring too / and there it floated / dead on a Sunday / sideways / circling in the current / and I walked to the rotunda / and overhead / gods in chariots / dogs, women / circled, / and death / ran down my throat / like a mouse, / and I heard the people coming / with their picnic bags / and laughter, / and I felt guilty / for the swan / as if death / were a thing of shame / and like a fool / i walked away / and left them / my beautiful swan
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They should invent a method of asking for reassurance that nobody secretly hates you that doesn't make people secretly hate you.
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can’t believe i’m saying this but orlando by virginia woolf (1928) has make me feel more comfortable exploring my gender and more understanding of its complexities than anything else ever.
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