(Source: unledger, via santini-houdini)
(Source: sebronsnyder, via daretobeblack)
(Source: ma-lefic, via pretty-afrikan)
Word to A$AP.
What makes a nigga
A real nigga?
A real nigga is like the sun rising in the morning.
It’s not like the sun rises because somebody told it to or because it’s tryna impress somebody or any superficial shit like that.
The sun rises because what the fuck a nigga gonna do to stop it?
ATTN: this is a rant. My rant. My unorganized thoughts in organized sentence structures. So Chill.
A$AP Made a comment about red lipstick on darkies—-excuse the racial slur—-and how ‘we’ (as in us bc im a darkie) should stick to other shades (purple) and leave red to the “fair” skinned girls.
Yeah so he pissed some women off—especially darkies—with this comment. Though I’m not exactly sure why Trina was offended when she considers herself a redbone but to each his/her own. But Ill admit I was like “nigga eat a dick with cho cool ass” but I was over it that quick.
So he responds to the reactions with a long statement—in lamest terms black women are sensitive and no one can get away with commenting on our appearance without being slandered.
Ok. Cool even though he didn’t specifically say that black women should not wear red lips just not darkies—but I’m schleep.
However to some extent, I agree that we are sensitive. And yeah I have a rather intellectual response to his statement but I’m not on that right now. So Nah nigga you’re not really allowed to tell women what they can and can not do bc you have braids. But you still that nigga though.
But to get to my point, I agree we are too sensitive to criticism but not just black women…Women in general and I think it’s because we are already our own worst enemy when it comes to appearance and we all have things that we would like to change already. And then for someone to come & tell us what we are and are not allowed to do is like shawty chill.
Men are the most (bluntly) judgmental, high standard having ass species—(Just chill. Im on one.) Nothing a woman does is good enough. They hate weave. They hate natural hair. They hate makeup. They hate the way we dress. They hate when we’re slender. They hate when we’re fat. They hate when we’re know it alls. Hate when we don’t know enough. And yes everyone has their opinions but they feel as if its okay to say what they dislike about a specific woman so openly to her face—even when they are not involved with her.
Like imagine if I engaged in small talk with some random dude friend (who would be Chris Brown in real life) and say to his face. Nigga you got severe scoliosis and damn you’ve been in the gym for years and you’re still fat. I like my men to be all muscular. I mean you fine and all but you gotta tone that stomach up baby.
(Extreme I know but I’m on one.)
Like shawty chill. We got this. It’s plenty of us to go around. You can’t expect us all to be, act, look the same.
But I guess it’s our fault too. Women will marry the most strangest appearances of males for security.
This shit is crazy.
Black love is making sure your queen never falls asleep without her bonnet on or without a silk pillowcase.
There once was a young boy with a very bad temper. The boy’s father wanted to teach him a lesson, so he gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper he must hammer a nail into their wooden fence.
On the first day of this lesson, the little boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. He was really mad!
Over the course of the next few weeks, the little boy began to control his temper, so the number of nails that were hammered into the fence dramatically decreased.
It wasn’t long before the little boy discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.
Then, the day finally came when the little boy didn’t lose his temper even once, and he became so proud of himself, he couldn’t wait to tell his father.
Pleased, his father suggested that he now pull out one nail for each day that he could hold his temper.
Several weeks went by and the day finally came when the young boy was able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.
Very gently, the father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence.
“You have done very well, my son,” he smiled, “but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same.”
The little boy listened carefully as his father continued to speak.
“When you say things in anger, they leave permanent scars just like these. And no matter how many times you say you’re sorry, the wounds will still be there.”
I said never apologize for how you feel. No one can control how they feel. The sun doesn’t apologize for being the sun. The rain doesn’t say sorry for falling. Feelings just are. — Iain S. Thomas, Intentional Dissonance (via nuded)
(Source: thenineteenthsecond, via wayleftfield)
Never waste your time trying to explain who you are to people who are committed to misunderstanding you. — Dream Hampton (via fawun)
(Source: 31chainz, via aninterestingenigma)