#travel empowerment

[alwaysbewoke]

When I was in college, I let German tourists take pictures with me in my graduation gown. Even at the time I thought it was weird. But since my college years, I haven’t allowed strangers to take pics of me “just because” here or abroad. “Curiosity” means very little to me. People on the clock app were saying in China they actually have been known to post pics of Black people on WeChat to make fun of them. So, maybe not the best idea to let strangers take pics of/with you. Anyway, I wish you all safe, joyous, and comfortable travels. You deserve to see the world in peace just like anyone else.

x

[histhoughtslately]

“Travel changes you. As you move through this life and this world you change things slightly, you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life — and travel — leaves marks on you.”

- Anthony Bourdain

[labyrinthofstreams]

Women and girls of Nepal, 1972.

Photographed by Nick DeWolf.

[justabarbiegirl05]

I've recently realized that all of the strong women I look up to for inspiration and to feel empowered go through hard things. And it might seem like a silly thing to realize but seeing them at their worst makes me feel better about not being at my best.

Barbie gives up when she comes back and then Kens have taken over Barbie Land.

Gloria from Barbie struggles with her family and explains perfectly how hard of a balancing act being a woman is.

Beth Harmon almost slept through the most important match of her career because she was hungover and on drugs.

Harley Quinn struggles with having her own identity after going through an abusive relationship.

Supergirl lost her entire planet, is over looked at her real job. She struggles with balancing both of her lives and tries to do it all.

Lena Luthor has family issues and is over looked because she is woman in male dominated fields. She also losses it (understandably) when she is betrayed by her best friend.

Wynonna Earp is plagued by horrors she can't forget and copes with drinking and pushing everyone away from her.

Elle Woods changes who she is to win over some horrible guy just so she can get married and feel like she's loved and valued the way society expects. She's also bullied by everyone at her school.

Jo March can't deal with everything changing around her. She's also a woman in the 1800s.

Lady Gaga has struggled with un measurable things and focused her energy into healing through music. I think this also applies to Taylor Swift.

Carmilla has been buried underground killed people been evil for centuries and lost the love of her life.

All of the women in the sisterhood of the traveling pants have gone through major life changing events.

What I'm trying to say is if they can have bad moments and cry and struggle to cope maybe struggling to fix my sleep schedule or taking the best care of myself consistently isn't the end of the world. I'm going to have off days and not be at the top of my game all the time and that's ok. They aren't either. The only thing that matters is that I'm trying.

[tellings-of-my-twenties]

What I'm Good At

As a woman, I have many talents, 

And as a woman I minimise each.  

To be a woman is to be a critic, and yet we know all too well that our genre of people receive it more than most.  

I critique myself without mercy, and one of my many failings is what I am good at. 

I can paint but not worthy of selling,  

I can sing but not too high or low.  

With every ‘talent’ I possess there comes a stamp of mediocrity, a sprinkle of ‘almost’ on every sketch I do.  

I can sew but never straight and design nothing I have not seen before.  

Most of my projects are halves and the wholes are never satisfactory. 

To be a woman is to strive for greatness while shrinking myself in every room.  

So what am I good at?  

Why do I find so many women around me have found a passion and not just any, but one they thrive in.  

A baker, a singer, an athlete, an academic, even fashion. 

I am “just a girl” as they say, but why is every girl I know so impressive.  

I cower in comparison and constantly question, 

What am I good at?  

I am good at criticism of my work, I am an expert in self doubt and anxiety.  

I believe I can do great things but what are the things I am great at? 

Where is my spark, my passion?  

That’s when I go to sleep at night, and as I fall deeper words find their way into my subconscious. 

Poetic justice falls into my lap with ease, and I’m reminded of a little girl who struggled to read but always had something to say.  

I recall my father telling me, in order to write you must first read as my brother laughed when I said I would write impressive pieces some day.  

Little did they know.  

I have failings in grammar, and spelling, I even have failure in self belief. 

However, I have diaries that date back to my childhood days, when I could not spell and my words never came out the way I wanted.  

I have evidence of the cruelty others dashed against me, I wrote it down.  

I have a powerful voice that sometimes takes time to rear it’s head, but is still beautiful in it’s pace.  

What am I good at?  

I am a woman, and therefore my power was limited in the eyes of my family. My brothers were expected to do great things, prayers were made that I would get by.  

I still managed to find confidence, despite all odds. I know, that I am a woman, 

and I am a writer; even if nobody chooses to read.  

CABH 

[artificial-transmutations]

Max' Journey - Roaring

This was the first time that Max appeared inside a building, apparently some kind of apartment. It didn't look like anybody was home, so Max had the time to take in his new surroundings. First, himself. The bathroom even had a mirror, so this was a good opportunity to check his face.

As expected, Max was naked again - except for Thjodolf's necklace - and, luckily, all the dirt and blood from the battlefield had disappeared along with his clothes and his wounds. His body had shifted subtly again, showing signs of his previous French persona, but Max was still able to recognize himself in the reflection.

Even though he didn't have any wounds on his body, the battle of Waterloo still left its marks on Max, both mentally and physically. He was feeling extremely tired, and without thinking too much about the owner of the apartment returning, Max postponed further explorations and fell into bed, drifting off to sleep immediately.

The next morning, he woke up feeling refreshed and energetic, albeit a bit hungry, ready to explore his new environment. There was still nobody in the apartment except him, so he walked around the apartment first. It was obviously post-industrialization, Max decided. There was running water and electric light, although the light bulbs looked flimsy and old-fashioned.

When he looked out of the window, he saw cars, the early models, driving in the streets, and lots of people and buildings. He was obviously in a big city and the time was at least somewhat modern, even though it was still in his personal past.

The more Max searched the apartment, more he concluded that whoever owned it had not been here for some months now. It was even possible that whoever used to live here was no longer around - at least the clothing he found was that of an old man. To his delight, he even found a small cache of money (American dollars, as he noticed) and a key to the apartment in a box.

Although Max didn't feel all too comfortable wearing a possibly deceased man's clothing, he got dressed, took the money and the key and left the apartment. Although he was really hungry, the first thing Max bought was a newspaper. After looking at the date, Max exhaled in relief. He was in 1927 New York. Even though he really had a bad historical knowledge, he knew that it was still some years until World War two. Having seen the technology level, there had been a rising fear in Max that he had just been kicked into the next big battle.

1927... What did he know about the twenties...? Nothing much, actually. He had heard stories about prohibition and Al Capone, but those were probably exaggerated or even fictionalized.

While Max enjoyed the hot meal "his" money had bought him, he thought about his situation. If he was right about the apartment being empty, he was in luck this time. He had a place to stay and some money to spend until the next portal took him away. He didn't really know how long that would take, though. In France, it had been several months, in the Viking age a few weeks. It could be totally random, or the periods of time could be increasing. If the latter was the case, or even if it took several months like in France, then the money he had would be not enough by a long shot, even if he saved it the best he could. Max reckoned that it would be more difficult to live a vagrant's life than it had been in France. So, if he wanted to stay here, he needed a job.

Then, he wanted to find out more about his circumstances. There were a lot of open questions he never really had time to think about. What was the nature of these portals? Why did the last one look so unsteady? Why was his body constantly changing? What was that magic potion that apparently gave him some (very limited) fighting superpower? And most importantly: How could he go home?

Max spent the rest of the day walking through the city and taking in everything he could see. The city was huge and filled with people, cars and lights. He felt overwhelmed at first, but after a few days, he started to get used to it. At least the stories about prohibition were not exaggerated though - there was no alcohol to buy anywhere, which was a shame, he thought. He really could have used something to distract him.

As long as he got new input, it was fine. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw images of bloodied French soldiers, of young Rémy, whose one eye had been reduced to a bloody mess. Every time it was silent, he heard the screams, the bangs of musket fire, the gurgling sound of people drowning in their own blood. He even remembered the horns of the Viking raiders and the screams of the Roman slaves. Max tossed and turned in his sleep, dreaming of the battles and the death and of the sad face of Thjodolf when he had to leave. Often, when he woke up, he couldn't remember where he was or if all of that really happened, and it took him some time to readjust. In other nights, he found no sleep altogether, or woke up screaming or crying.

As his money was slowly running out, he couldn't postpone finding a job any longer. He had avoided thinking about that until now and while there were a lot of job offerings in the newspaper, nothing really caught his eye. He was sitting in his apartment, listening to the radio, when it finally hit him. Radio. He had a vast knowledge of electrical engineering, much more than most professors in this time knew. With the tools available, he could probably make a lot of great inventions before they were due originally.

But he stopped himself, that would be a really bad idea, right? His goal was still to come home, but if he changed history significantly, there would be no home to return to, it would have all changed. Max quickly recollected his journey so far. No, he didn't make a big difference anywhere. There were a few more dead Prussian soldiers, but Napoleon still lost the battle of Waterloo. The other times he had been to made no difference either. So, he should try to stay low in this time period as well, in order not to change anything. Still, his knowledge in electrical engineering could still be useful.

It was harder than he thought to find a job without references, but luckily, the demand was high. So, finally, he managed to get a job at the Radio Corporation of America and earned real money. Since he did not have to pay rent and the pay was quite high giving his advanced skills, Max quickly had enough money to buy himself new clothes and food and even some pocket money for the subway.

The work was interesting too. While Max worked on improving their radios, he learned a lot about the technology level of the time. It seemed that electricity was already widely used and known in the twenties, but, of course, there were no semiconductors. While Max understood the physics behind them, he had no way of manufacturing semiconductors which severely limited if not diminished any chance he might have had understanding or researching the portal phenomena.

Max tried to keep his head down, working hard and being nice to everybody so nobody noticed anything strange about him. The constant torment in his head did not get better though, and even though he had his work to distract him during the day, the nights were still awful. He also kept low regarding his sexuality, since he had a pretty good idea that it would do him no good to be known as gay. Damn those cave man urges, Max found himself thinking. In his normal live, he had been almost asexual, and now he longed for human touch so much it was almost unbearable at times.

Apparently, he was not very good at hiding how miserable he felt, because one day, a coworker came to him during the break and secretly handed him a piece of paper with an address, telling him it was a place that would help him feel better.

What Max found when he went there this evening was a hidden bar full of people, drinking alcohol and listening to jazz. There was a word for that, Max remembered. Right, "speakeasy". Max didn't mind at all. He needed to drown out his thoughts, even if it was just for one night, so he immediately got into it, started socializing and drinking. It helped somewhat, but only a little bit.

After several hours of drinking and dancing, Max stumbled back home. The remainder of the night was a bit quieter than usual, so, the next day, Max returned to the speakeasy, and the day after that as well. It became a regular thing for Max getting drunk and partying on most nights. He was trying to forget everything by drowning himself in booze and music. He learned that this was not the only speakeasy in Manhattan by far. There were other bars or clubs well hidden from the police and Max started exploring them all.

After about a month of living in New York, he stumbled across a hidden club, the "Lavender Lounge", that appeared to promote a wide variety of sexual interests, including drag shows. Although it was still considered taboo on the streets, here, Max could finally live out his sexuality.

He returned to the Lavender Lounge almost every night now. He was regularly getting drunk there, enjoyed the shows and, of course, had sex with a wide variety of men, who came there. Since Max had the money to dress well and give generous tips, he quickly became a regular in the club.

Although rather subtly, his body shifted to accommodate his new role. His skin became smooth, his teeth white and his charisma increased. His mind adjusted as well: He found himself talking to others more easily and adopted a more outgoing personality. He sailed the waters of social interaction smoothly and got along fine with everyone.

Sadly, be it from constant training or from his adjusting body, the amount of alcohol he had to drink to keep his mind in check was increasing continuously. It didn't give him the warm embrace of forgetting so easily anymore, and he started having those haunting dreams again more frequently.

So, he turned to harder drugs. It was actually surprising what was already available in the 1920s. Max started with marijuana but quickly discovered there was more. Cocaine, heroin and opium - Max quickly became addicted to the substances, a price he gladly paid to get away from his traumatic memories. At least they gave him some relief from the pain.

Naturally, his work performance dropped significantly. Some days, he didn't even show up for work anymore, so in the fall, he was fired unceremoniously from his job at the RCA. He still had some money left and didn't do anything now then visit the Lavender Lounge. He often forgot to eat, just looking forward to his next kick these days, which made his lean muscles melt away. His body was also reacting to this new chapter in Max life, leaving him a miserable shadow of himself over the course of the next weeks. He started to smell bad, since he had stopped bathing altogether and more and more of his acquaintances from the clubs turned away from him.

His money reserves melted away as quickly as his health. He managed to get by for some more weeks by selling the apartment and living on the street, but finally, his last dollar had been spent on one final dose of opium.

When he tried to beg and even shout, he was quickly complimented out of the Lavender Lounge, after being told not to return again. There he was now. On the streets, alone and cold, hungry and desperate. And without any money. The only thing he had left to sell would be Thjodolf’s necklace. It wouldn't give him much money, but perhaps enough for a small bit of food. However, the thought alone of giving away his last memento of those happy days brought tears to his eyes. No, he couldn't do that. Max wandered around aimlessly for a few hours, crying his eyes out in self-pity.

It was way after midnight when his tears finally dried up and made way to a rare moment of grim clarity. He was really at rock bottom. He had nothing but a major drug addiction and the clothes on his back. Ever since he found that device in the archive cellar, he had totally lost control over his life, with an unknown force just tossing him around history like a tennis ball, from one catastrophe to the next.

This had to stop. He needed to take control again. Did he believe in fate? Could you escape fate? He shook his head, with a grim determination. These were not the right questions.

The right question was: Can fate escape me?

Max made a fist. He was beaten badly, but not broken. He would never give away control of his life again like that, giving in to drugs and parties. It would be a lot of work, but Max was determined to climb out of this hole again.

The night lit up, as, finally, the exit portal opened. Max had almost laughed out loudly. He had waited for the damn thing for months now, and now that he had lost everything, it just showed up?

Something was definitely wrong with it, though. The swirling yellow energy fluctuated wildly, and the light flickered irregularly. From time to time, an electric discharge hit the wet road. It looked particularly unsafe, and Max wondered if this would be the last portal he could step through, at least if this deterioration kept increasing. However, Max felt empowered. He had a choice. He could take the portal, or he could stay. And it was his decision this time, to step into the flickering lights.

It's a roller coaster with Max. I just hope this ends well! If you need to remember how his journey started, you can do so here. Or you can read the last episode here. The next part is available here.

[ibis-redibis]

waiting for the train like this 🚂

[blackgirlslivingwell]

The Philippines - Travel Destinations for Black Women

[loveconsumerist]

Remind yourself of what IS going right.

[whereishermes]

Women's Power in Art and Rituals: A Closer Look at Pacific Cultures

[nordic-noire]

'Freedom lies in being bold.'

[brettesims]

Gemini, The Time Traveler

Gemini is ruled by Mercury. Mercury as a planet, is the time traveler. It's interesting because 'The Time Travelers Wife' is literally one of my favorite books/movies! I was always fascinated by how the main character could be here &now but simultaneously see past and future versions of himself.

Today the moon is in Gemini and this energy is about coming into full alignment and full personal power, or personal authority. Its about reconciling and coming to peace with past versions of who you were and future versions of who you will become - in the here and now.

Due to the warp speed time traveling nature of Gemini I often can speed my mind too far forward into the future. I tend to easily stress myself about how I am going to figure it all out. I can get fixated on the fears others try to project onto me. I can get wrapped up in media and what it all means for society, and I get angry about media news a lot and strive to advocate for whats right in the future.

However, future worry unravels the good of intended manifestation. If you truly trusted yourself, God, or The Universe why would there even be a need for stress of future thought? I try to always ask myself: "What if everything does work out perfectly for me?" This adjusts my frequency and thus alignment. It's a perspective cleanse, allowing me to view life from the perfective of "accepting the good."

Being here now is so vastly and deeply important to me because of my time traveling mind! When you can be here and now in FULL present awareness, and not in a constant state of masculine doing and going... freedom occurs. Time becomes irrelevant in the here and now. Time is just an illusion anyway. What other time is there other than right here and right now? All there is is here. All we have is now; this moment

And in this now moment you can always lookout for your future self BY being present. You can lookout for your future self by embracing self love and self care and listening to your inner guidance system.

Naturally, this song M.I.A song has been stuck in my head today with this beautiful Gemini moon.

Love, B

[dutchplayboyfans]

@jmich78photography A beautiful woman is the one who never compares herself with others because what others have doesn't make her feel insecure. - Anonymous Model @doll_face.blondie #lingerie #sexy #blonde #model #beauty #love #selflove #autumn #empowerment #liketime #photographer #travelphotography #selfie #travel #followme #life #lifestyle #portraitphotography #instalike #sexy #followforfollowback #insta #likes #viralpost #moda #girls #artist #k #modellife #portraitphotography #instafashion https://www.instagram.com/p/CkFaiu7KZR1/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[darrenwalleyconsultancy]

Cupid's Philippines Scams

Photo by Rainier Ridao Apparently, Cupid has an evil sense of humour and punishes the weak. YouTube is now full of Cupid’s Philippines scams videos, so I decided to dedicate this week’s article to the subject. Now you are now single. You have probably decided to follow the enlightened men of the west. Heading east to find the love of your life. “Karens” For those of you who have read my…

[blackgirlslivingwell]

Dominican Republic - Travel Destinations for Black Women

[mascaraandmojitos]

Source: http://elementsndesign.tumblr.com