lazylane:

I could never understand some people. I am a late person, I am unreliable and many times I show up places late. I hate this about myself. But, even worse than me, there are people who make other people late. There are also those who aren’t clear about plans. For example, they will be adamant about hanging out- but, they will make you wait around and waste time doing weird shit until they respond or something of that nature. It’s especially frustrating when you know this person could easily have mentioned their situation or given you some knowledge as to whatever is up. Imagine say being on the west side of town and planning to meet a friend over there later. They might say “mid-afternoon work?” and you agree. Say, it’s perfect because you have an appointment that way at 2 o’clock on the west side of town. So, when it’s over maybe you can kill some time, and set a place and time, and remain in town - if they answer soon enough? Turns out person means ‘evening’ by ‘mid-afternoon’, and by that time you are home, disappointed, after wasting money buying food and caring so much. 

Then they don’t acknowledge it, because you don’t wanna complain about ur regular expectations for social life and how they don’t reach them

(Source: lazylane-blog)

Firstly because they are beautiful, and remarkably underappreciated. I would love to be a black mother, have the opportunity to help my children navigate a world that is turned against them. I love the comfort that black women have, in their own skin, it seems like black women wouldn’t trade themselves in for someone else. Like there’s some magic in them, I’ve always felt that way. I feel like black women have incredible sex, like any color man would really make love to a black woman in a way you couldn’t with a white woman. Black women are the original mother’s of humankind. Black women have wildly unique perspectives and they view life from a pretty narrow light that is unwritten or researched seldom. They are outcasted and stereotyped in such contrary ways it personally infuriates me. And they are deprived of the opportunity and freedom to challenge it in the way I would like to see it challenged. But this is because I am in such a place of privilege I will never know the strength it would actually take. A black woman’s life is such a larger battle then mine. Its not that I want intentionally to submit myself to suffering or the harsh reality of blackness, I do feel though it is necessary for white people to at least imagine. I want to fully experience the identity and the power and strength and beauty that comes from the skin most hated, yet glorified. It’s a mystery that i have envied since I was a little girl.