My father is one of those people who believes that less people would be raped if they dressed more conservatively even going as far to say that “if you hang out the tackle someone will take the bait” he then went on to explain that slut is designed to be an offensive word and that there is no point trying to rid it of its negative meaning. It just confuses and disgusts me that someone that is normally a pretty decent guy would think this way.
Tag, you're it!
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Each tagged person must post ten things about themselves. You have to choose and tag ten people . Go to their blogs and tell them you tagged them. No tag backs.
1. I have blue eyes 2. I hate being told what to do 3. I can’t swim 4. The ocean and any deep body of water terrifies me 5. I have tried to kill myself twice 6. The most important thing in my life is my friends 7. I want to become a psychologist even though I hate them 8. My favourite colour is blood red 9. I frequently worry that one day I might hurt someone that does not deserve it 10. I will always help anyone that asks
Knowledge is power and power is only ever used to hurt. Therefore the less people know about you the less power they wield the less they wield the less you have to fear. Some terrible things have happened as of late things that will haunt me until the day of my death. The floodgates have been torn down and I don’t know how to swim
also this is really confusing because there is another anonymous person now. i am the first anona who asked you all the weird question,
this http://thebrokenmask.tumblr.com/post/5606958076/you-can-call-the-cat-team-or-there-is-a-ward-at is somebody different e_O
I was wondering if you could help me out a little here.
Are there any places nearby where one could be institutionalised? What im really asking is are there any psych wards/mental hospitals nearby? And if so where and how would one go about getting themselves institutionalised?
First I had to turn off my music since it made me hallucinate, now usually thats a good thing but when you are trying to work it’s not so great.
Follow this up with the news that two of my most dearest friends who have been togeather for as long as I can remember broke up today devestating both parties.
One of them is going to get through this fine since he will be supported by everyone but the girl she does not have as much support and is only concerned about the boys wellbeing.
This causes me worry because I don’t want to watch her withdraw into herself like so many others have done before her slowly desending into a spiral of self-blame and loneliness.
I don’t want this to happen and would give anything in order to prevent it.
Sometimes I wish things were back to how they used to be when I was young, sure it was lonely but at least that was consistent.
But things change, happyness becomes sadness, sadness becomes happyness you never know what each day will bring, It could be another reason to smile and be jolly or (as is the more frequent of the two) another reason to close your eyes and wish that this will be the time where you just don’t wake up.
But on the brightside they are trying to remain friends which is the only silver lining on this grey little cloud
“When I was 16, I had a fake I.D. and decided to go to a gay bar by myself because some friends bailed on me. While there, an older gentleman bought me a drink. He wasn’t a creeper, and he definitely wasn’t unattractive. I accepted the drink and began talking to him. No big deal. As the hour progressed, I felt myself feeling strange. I mentioned that I felt like I had a headache, and this guy helped guide me out of the bar. As we were walking down the street, the thought of, ‘Oh god, he’s drugged me, I’m going to die’ came to my head. I tried to get away, but I was so drugged up that I could barely walk, let alone speak. It also didn’t help that I had really large ‘goth’ platform shoes because I was going through a phase. Anyway, this guy brought me to his suv and began undressing me. As a final act of defiance, I hit him over the head with my platform shoe. He then punched me, and I remember thinking, ‘Why don’t they ever give workshops to gay guys about being victims of rape too?’ While I was as careful as possible, I never saw the guy slip something in the drink. I even watched the bar tender make the drink. Anyway, I lied there completely paralyzed while this pervert was lubing up. I locked eyes with his for a moment, and that’s when it happened. A very large and angry drag queen opened the door of the vehicle and beat the shit out of my attempted rapist. She and her other drag friends helped dress and care for me while the police arrived. I was saved by a group of guardian drag queens. They were basically the modern day ‘angels from heaven.’”—