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[toodleloos]

[toodleloos]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞.

𖦹 ——— 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ ——— 𖦹

“what’s your favorite color?“

I say black.

But they say it’s a shade.

a shade? but throughout my life i was told it was color.

did they lie?

my head hurts.

is it a shade or a color?

my thoughts feel all jumbled.

what is a shade.

what even is a color?!

what if black wanted to be a color?

would you deny it?

i feel like black sometimes.

im a color. I know it. but they swear,

IM A SHADE.

even if i was a shade, can’t i be a color? a normal color?

maybe it’d be too hard. no one would understand.

so instead of black,

I say red.

that’s what everyone around me says.

Because its a color.

𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗲. ​

𖦹 ——— 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ ——— 𖦹

[toodleloos]

me : “ im gonna write something today!! ”

writers block :

[toodleloos]

The last fictional character in your camera roll is who you marry:

[toodleloos]

Please help Rawan, Yemna, and their family! They are still far from their goal of kr319,315 SEK (~$30,000) to evacuate from Gaza; they have currently raised kr97,184 SEK / kr319,315. However, with your help we can change that - every dollar counts no matter how little!!! Together, we can all help the Abudaya family!!

🌟 This campaign has been verified by a Palestinian-led collective - follow them @/palestineasdiqa on IG!!

Please donate and share widely!!!

This campaign is also a fundraiser where your donations can get you some free art from the talented group at Artists 4 Gaza!! Check out artaction4gaza.carrd.co for more info!

[template for the secondary graphic made by the amazing @starelegy_ ]

🇵🇸

[toodleloos]

˚₊‧꒰ა𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝔀𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓵𝔂𝔀𝓸𝓸𝓭໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[toodleloos]

Megan Thee Stallion in 'Mamushi' music video // Crocodiles hunting

[toodleloos]

“do I look different?”

————————- ꧁✩✬✩✬꧂ -————————

A question ive heard from almost everyone ive known. Including myself. They look in a mirror, dreading the way they look. The way they sound. The way they act.

But how could a kid possibly hate how they look?

“I’m too skinny. im too fat. I wish I was brunette. Or maybe blond. I wish I had curls like her, I wish my hair was straighter than a ruler.”

“If I throw myself on a field, waving my abs around. Am I macho? Or cool? Call a gay kid a slur? Maybe it’ll hide my obvious interest in men.”

Highschoolers are fake. The hallways? Filled with drama, and chaos. The moment I turned 13 I knew my life was over. I had to care about being cool, or liking this or liking that or liking her. Sometimes my head hurts because he’s so handsome, and she’s so gorgeous.

“Just don’t be gay. That’s weird.”

I’m weird.

Change your hair. Fix your attitude. Why do you dress like that? Your stupid. Your fat. No, you’re skinny. Oh fuck, now you’re fat and stupid!

But.

Have you eaten lately?

“You look different now.”

“You’re different.”

I know im different. You remind me. They remind me.

I look around at my classmates. Blonde, brunette, black, white, tan. Girls, boys, trans guys and girls.

Why the fuck does it matter if she screwed that guy? Or if he lost his virginity. Why does it matter if that girl wants to be a guy? Or that guy wants to be a girl?

There is so much hate.

We’re only kids. we can’t be kids forever. Don’t you listen to your parents? Enjoy your youth. Don’t cause drama. You say you listen, yet there are still huge numbers in suicide cases for teenagers. And what are the teachers doing? The parents? Adults that are supposed to protect us from this.

Keep us safe.

“I can’t stop crying. I’m so hungry but mom says I’ll be skinny soon.”

Why is it that we revolve everything around weight? Let me give you an example. A mother has twins. They’re healthy. One just.. puts on a little more weight. Instead of helping, do you know what her mother says?

“You’re so fat.”

And it starts. The disorder. Yes, she loses weight. Becomes “popular” with the girls and the jocks and she’s finally happy?

Throwing up your food makes you happy?

You can have so much sex. Drink so much booze. Smoke a shit ton of weed. But let’s face the facts.

we’re just kids and the world is laughing at us.

Don’t you remember? Climbing up on daddy’s lap, laughing, unaware of the cruel ass world. But— even then. We were so mean.

“I know my dad, do you?”

“My mom said your dad cheated on your mom and left. Hah! So funny!”

“My mom and dad said they loved eachother, so why do they fight?”

“My dad hit me last night. He said it was an accident. He smelled funny.”

“My mom looks at me weird after dad left.”

“I don’t see my parents much.”

I don’t think they notice, they shape our lives. They just like to criticize and criticize. And when we break. They yell at us and break us down. Like we’re the ones in the wrong.

“Depression isn’t real.”

“Teenagers are so exhausting.”

“So dramatic.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

To them, we are nothing if we complain. If we feel pain, or cry, or hurt. We’re dramatic because we never went through their struggle. Oh no. It’s not like we’re a whole new generation. No! We’re just dumb kids.

I don’t blame them. Their parents weren’t exactly uh.. stable. So they grow around this hate, pass that hate to us. And they wonder why we hate coming home. Why we HATE hearing,

“oh your just like your dad! You look so much like your mom!”

I spend hours. Changing myself. Taking nice pictures.

hey. I think I like this guy.

I should totally go for it, right?

They date. Everything was bliss. Then a random text.

“Hey, can you send?”

What? Send what?

“Nudes. Duh.”

I’ve never done that. she says.

“Don’t be a fucking baby.”

I’m with family.

“Just go in your bathroom.”

she did it of course. We all want validation. We crave it. Even if it will kill us. I don’t get the appeal.

I don’t get the appeal of being an asshole. Forcing yourself onto people, forcing them to vape or send weird pictures or.. kill themselves. Just don’t be a dick!

Be a kid.

I’m tired of the voices screaming at me, saying I suck. I’m an idiot.

I know!

They call me names, I go home and.. the feeling swallows me up. It’s the same thing over and over again. The same cycle. I’m tired of it! I want to be different! I want to look different.

why can’t I be DIFFERENT?!

I feel panic swallow me whole. The only thing I can hear is my ac wind blowing. Everything else is gone. And im.. okay.

Moral of the story? Be kind.

Oh! One last thing. I just need an opinion.

“Do I look different?”

————————- ꧁✩✬✩✬꧂ -————————

[toodleloos]

📚 — 𝐧𝐞𝐰.

“ 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙬.

𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙙𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙄 𝙨𝙖𝙬.

𝙄 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮’𝙙 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝.

𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙙𝙮.

𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙙.

𝙄 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙, 𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙨 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣.

𝙄 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙙— 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙— 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨.

𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧. 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙝𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙨.

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙖𝙡𝙜𝙚𝙗𝙧𝙖 𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙬.

𝙃𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙯𝙯𝙮, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚.

𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙜𝙚𝙗𝙧𝙖.

𝙄 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙙 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩, 𝘿𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙,

𝙄 𝙨𝙖𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣.

𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩. 𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙖 𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧— 𝙖 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧.

𝙜𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢.

𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙜𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙡𝙚𝙨

𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚. ”