Finally Meet
Finally Meet

Finally Meet

Better Than
Better Than

Better Than

Better Than Everyone Else
Better Than Everyone Else

Better Than Everyone Else

Than
Than

Than

Is Just
Is Just

Is Just

Have
Have

Have

With
With

With

Didnt
Didnt

Didnt

Straight Up
Straight Up

Straight Up

Your
Your

Your

🔥 | Latest

Beautiful, Birthday, and Crazy: thejoanglebook: gerrycoco: Joan Appreciation Day song  Here is my humble contribution to Joan Appreciation Day.  @thejoanglebook this one’s for you ***Personal note*** I struggle to see projects through in life, for many different reasons that aren’t worth going into at the moment. All I can say is that I’m inspired every day by people like Joan who put their heart and soul into what they do. Joan you are a comedy genius, a musical mastermind and all around crazy talented human being.You are the reason I pushed myself to make this video. This past weekend I learned that Joan Appreciation Day was on September 3rd and so wished to contribute something but didn’t know what. At one point I had a spark of inspiration and actually decided to follow it and do something with it for once. If anyone could appreciate a good pun it’s definitely you. And you more than deserve all the praise that we can give. So I took my courage and attempted to put it to good use, and I’m rather proud of the result.So thank you for not only inspiring me, but also for being a catalyst to put myself out there and giving something new a try. Hello @gerrycoco and hello everyone else. Sorry, I’ve been pretty quiet today/yesterday, but you should understand that I’m the type of person whose reaction to a performance of happy birthday dedicated to me is an internal: “do I deserve this? Don’t make eye contact. This will be over soon.” I can be pretty emotionally unavailable, and I feel like I should be absolutely floored by the incredible honor of having so many people celebrate me, but instead of feeling thankful, I feel like I owe something back. I’m like “oh God, they’re all being so kind. How do I show my appreciation for them?” Especially because on some level, I feel like reblogging all of your wonderful works of art could be vanity. I’m terrified of vanity. I don’t want to lose touch, and start to think more of myself then I deserve to. I want to keep growing, and I want to put others first. If I accept this gesture, does that mean I agree that I deserve it, or that I’m done growing? I don’t think I’m a genius at all (and I’d rather you not rebut that, because I’m really not trying to fish for compliments here).That said, the one thing I’m the most happy about having accomplished, is having worked on, written for, contributed to, or created projects that have inspired other artists. Some of you may know that I’m very pro-fan fiction. If I don’t accomplish anything else, I love that someone could’ve felt motivated to make something beautiful after seeing me attempt to make something beautiful myself. It really does warm my heart. That’s why I’m reblogging this, because I love that you felt the neccessary courage to put yourself out there, @gerrycoco… I’m really, really glad that you did. It’s a lovely song. And believe me, I really struggle to see things through myself– that’s why I only collaborate with people, because sometimes I think that that might be the only way that I can finish anything.I think I’m going to continue reblogging art for the occasion (a little belated, I know). Even if I don’t think I’m emotionally ready to believe I’m at all worthy of being celebrated, I do think that all of you wonderful artists are.🧡 Joan
Beautiful, Birthday, and Crazy: thejoanglebook:

gerrycoco:

Joan Appreciation Day song  Here is my humble contribution to Joan Appreciation Day.  @thejoanglebook this one’s for you ***Personal note*** I struggle to see projects through in life, for many
different reasons that aren’t worth going into at the moment. All I can say is
that I’m inspired every day by people like Joan who put their heart and soul
into what they do. Joan you are a comedy genius, a musical mastermind and all
around crazy talented human being.You are the reason I pushed myself to make this video. This
past weekend I learned that Joan Appreciation Day was on September 3rd and so
wished to contribute something but didn’t know what. At one point I had a spark
of inspiration and actually decided to follow it and do something with it for
once. If anyone could appreciate a good pun it’s definitely you. And you more
than deserve all the praise that we can give. So I took my courage and
attempted to put it to good use, and I’m rather proud of the result.So thank you for not only inspiring me, but also for being a
catalyst to put myself out there and giving something new a try.

Hello @gerrycoco and hello everyone else. Sorry, I’ve been pretty quiet today/yesterday, but you should understand that I’m the type of person whose reaction to a performance of happy birthday dedicated to me is an internal: “do I deserve this? Don’t make eye contact. This will be over soon.” I can be pretty emotionally unavailable, and I feel like I should be absolutely floored by the incredible honor of having so many people celebrate me, but instead of feeling thankful, I feel like I owe something back. I’m like “oh God, they’re all being so kind. How do I show my appreciation for them?” Especially because on some level, I feel like reblogging all of your wonderful works of art could be vanity. I’m terrified of vanity. I don’t want to lose touch, and start to think more of myself then I deserve to. I want to keep growing, and I want to put others first. If I accept this gesture, does that mean I agree that I deserve it, or that I’m done growing? I don’t think I’m a genius at all (and I’d rather you not rebut that, because I’m really not trying to fish for compliments here).That said, the one thing I’m the most happy about having accomplished, is having worked on, written for, contributed to, or created projects that have inspired other artists. Some of you may know that I’m very pro-fan fiction. If I don’t accomplish anything else, I love that someone could’ve felt motivated to make something beautiful after seeing me attempt to make something beautiful myself. It really does warm my heart. That’s why I’m reblogging this, because I love that you felt the neccessary courage to put yourself out there, @gerrycoco… I’m really, really glad that you did. It’s a lovely song. And believe me, I really struggle to see things through myself– that’s why I only collaborate with people, because sometimes I think that that might be the only way that I can finish anything.I think I’m going to continue reblogging art for the occasion (a little belated, I know). Even if I don’t think I’m emotionally ready to believe I’m at all worthy of being celebrated, I do think that all of you wonderful artists are.🧡 Joan

thejoanglebook: gerrycoco: Joan Appreciation Day song  Here is my humble contribution to Joan Appreciation Day.  @thejoanglebook this one’...

Being Alone, Crying, and Dude: thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie: gucciballs: thejorie: peble: thejorie: My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed. do they smoke weed? Yes, actually. you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,) They don’t look like they smoke weed. Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad. Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle. I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING  Well that escalated quickly…… What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body* haha oh my god who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes. love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”. and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”. “the goo pile that is now your body” i’m dying over here, jesus please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun. *shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.* this dude playin omg  Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
Being Alone, Crying, and Dude: thejorie:

xilast-zurvifferman:

thejorie:

jackbecq:

thejorie:

19leahjade96:

thejorie:

madamekagamine:

thejorie:

gccgrimm:

thejorie:

gucciballs:

thejorie:

peble:

thejorie:

My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed.

do they smoke weed?

Yes, actually.

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? 

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING 

Well that escalated quickly……

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

this dude playin omg 

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie:...

Crazy, Facebook, and Fail: Add Friend A fellow melanated creative recieved this deliberate discouragement in his tumblr inbox...what's crazy is...I can't really say that anonymous is wrong though. #Sad #P0C #WherelsTheSupport Ananymous s... you know ur kickstarter is going to fail, right? tumblr and the rest of the world doesn't care about visual novels featuring black people nearly as much as you seem to think they do. just look at how little notes your little project gets. Like Comment Share EN OF 2AL blackmoonbabe: askhimemiyaanthy: feminismdoneright: I’m going to point out some weird things about @projecttrinity‘s upcoming visual novel “Women of Xal” in relation to this site. 1) It’s an upcoming Kickstarter bound otome game that very obviously is PoC / People of Color WoC/ Women of Color centric. We’ve got a bi female lead with several romancable women. And it’s in a harsh matriarchal society ready to give some brutal parallels to our own. Being helmed by a very capable and snarky Black writer. The two programmers are women. The artists are women. The singers are women. One of the animators is a woman. AND THERE’S TANGIBLE QUALITY TO IT! I thought we’ve been asking for more projects like this for years now. But Tumblr has been the most quiet of the four sites it’s updating on??? (Youtube, Facebook, LemmSoftForums, Tumblr)  2) How are hateful anons finding this project before everyone else? Why are we letting Black creatives feel like the anon has a point about Tumblr not caring? Isn’t this site notorious for propping up content like this? Where are my feminists at?! Like, I truly get it: Most of you will have only just heard of this. And Tumblr didn’t make it easy in the first place. Tags and timing are madly important. But so are reblogs and follows! You’re reading this now - there’s nothing truly stopping you from showing that anon the middle finger. For every time WE DON’T JUST ‘HEART’ A CREATIVE’S POST and reblog/follow their content, we prove hateful anons like this wrong. And every time we prove them wrong, we send an encouraging message to other minorities who want to share their passions with the world, but face that uphill battle. And hey, the writer clearly has faith in this site still: You can find out more about the project here. Or, better yet, follow, and support the team here! (Bonus Note: If you’re someone who has been reblogging a lot of content from this team as well, cheers, fellow sisters! 3) Something unrelated, but, please help support! :)  Tumblr’s pretty good about ignoring black creators, hell alot of black people on tumblr are pretty good about ignoring black creators. Which really goes to show you most of the folks on here are just being performative for good noodle stars and aren’t really about anything.
Crazy, Facebook, and Fail: Add Friend
 A fellow melanated creative recieved this deliberate discouragement in his tumblr
 inbox...what's crazy is...I can't really say that anonymous is wrong though. #Sad
 #P0C #WherelsTheSupport
 Ananymous s...
 you know ur kickstarter is going to fail, right? tumblr and the rest of the world doesn't
 care about visual novels featuring black people nearly as much as you seem to think they
 do. just look at how little notes your little project gets.
 Like
 Comment
 Share

 EN
 OF
 2AL
blackmoonbabe:

askhimemiyaanthy:

feminismdoneright:

I’m going to point out some weird things about @projecttrinity‘s upcoming visual novel “Women of Xal” in relation to this site.
1) It’s an upcoming Kickstarter bound otome game that very obviously is PoC / People of Color  WoC/ Women of Color centric. We’ve got a bi female lead with several romancable women. And it’s in a harsh matriarchal society ready to give some brutal parallels to our own. Being helmed by a very capable and snarky Black writer. The two programmers are women. The artists are women. The singers are women. One of the animators is a woman. AND THERE’S TANGIBLE QUALITY TO IT! I thought we’ve been asking for more projects like this for years now. But Tumblr has been the most quiet of the four sites

it’s updating on???

 (Youtube, Facebook, LemmSoftForums, Tumblr) 
2) How are hateful anons finding this project before everyone else? Why are we letting Black creatives feel like the anon has a point about Tumblr not caring? Isn’t this site notorious for propping up content like this? Where are my feminists at?!
Like, I truly get it: Most of you will have only just heard of this. And Tumblr didn’t make it easy in the first place. Tags and timing are madly important. But so are reblogs and follows! You’re reading this now - there’s nothing truly stopping you from showing that anon the middle finger. For every time WE DON’T JUST ‘HEART’ A CREATIVE’S POST and reblog/follow their content, we prove hateful anons like this wrong. And every time we prove them wrong, we send an encouraging message to other minorities who want to share their passions with the world, but face that uphill battle.
And hey, the writer clearly has faith in this site still:

You can find out more about the project here.
Or, better yet, follow, and support the team here!

(Bonus Note: If you’re someone who has been reblogging a lot of content from this team as well, cheers, fellow sisters! 3)

Something unrelated, but, please help support! :) 

Tumblr’s pretty good about ignoring black creators, hell alot of black people on tumblr are pretty good about ignoring black creators. Which really goes to show you most of the folks on here are just being performative for good noodle stars and aren’t really about anything.

blackmoonbabe: askhimemiyaanthy: feminismdoneright: I’m going to point out some weird things about @projecttrinity‘s upcoming visual nove...

Beautiful, Clothes, and Fire: A psychologist goes to Target and after visiting the make-up aisle, he decides to write this letter to his young daughter: Dear Little One, As I write this, I'm sitting in the makeup aisle of our local Target store. A friend recently texted me froma different makeup aisle and told me it felt like one of the most oppressive places in the world. I wanted to find out what he meant. Flat OOOKS HAN UR LAF And now that I'm sitting here, I'm beginning to agree with him. Words have power, and the words on display in this aisle have a deep power. Words and phrases like: Affordably gorgeous, Infallible, Flawless finish, Brilliant strength, Liquid power, Go nude, Age defying, Instant age rewind, Choose your dream, Nearly naked, and Natural beauty. When you have a daughter you start to realize she's just as strong as everyone else in the house-a force to be reckoned with, a soul on fire with the same life and gifts and passions as any man. But sitting in this store aisle, you also begin to realize most people won't see her that way. Theyll see her as a pretty face and a body to enjoy. And they'll tell her she has to look a certain way to have any worth or influence. But words do have power and maybe, just maybe, the words of a father can begin to compete with the words of the world. Maybe a father's words can deliver his daughter through this gauntlet of institutionalized shame and into a deep, unshakeable sense of her own worthiness and beauty. A father's words aren't different words, but they are words with a radically different meaning: BRILLIANT STRENGTH: May your strength be not in your fingernails but in your heat. May you discem in your center who you are, and then may you fearfully but tenaciously live it out in the world. CHOOSE YOUR DREAM: But not from a department store shelf. Find the still-quiet place within you. A real dream has been planted there. Discover what you want to do in the world. And when you have chosen, may you faithfully pursue it, with integrity and with hope. NAKED: The world wants you to take your clothes off. Please keep them on. But take your gloves off. Pull no punches. Say what is in your heart. Be vulnerable. Embrace risk. Love a world that barely knows what it means to love itself. Do so nakedly. Openly. With abandon. INFALLIBLE: May you be constantly, infallibly aware that infallibility doesn't exist. It's an illusion created by people interested in your wallet. If you choose to seek perfection, may it be in an infallible grace-for yourself, and for everyone around you. AGE DEFYING: Your skin will wrinkle and your youth will fade, but your soul is ageless. It will always know how to play and how to enjoy and how to revel in this one-chance life. May you always defiantly resist the aging of your spirit. FLAWLESS FINISH: Your finish has nothing to do with how your face looks today and everything to do with how your life looks on your last day. May your years be a preparation for that day. May you be aged by grace, may you grow in wisdom, and may your love become big enough to embrace all people. May your flawiess finish be a peaceful embrace of the end and the unknown that follows, and may it thus be a gift to everyone who cherishes you. Little One, you love everything pink and frilly and I wll surely understand if someday makeup is important to you. But I pray three words will remain more important to you-the last three words you say every night, when I ask the question: "Where are you the most beautiful?" Three words so bright no concealer can cover them. Where are you the most beautiful? On the inside. From my heart to yours, Daddy you should probably go to TheMetaPicture.com lolzandtrollz: Psychologist Writes The Most Perfect Letter To His Daughter
Beautiful, Clothes, and Fire: A psychologist goes to Target and after visiting
 the make-up aisle, he decides to write
 this letter to his young daughter:
 Dear Little One,
 As I write this, I'm sitting in the makeup aisle of our local Target store.
 A friend recently texted me froma different makeup aisle and told me
 it felt like one of the most oppressive places in the world. I wanted to
 find out what he meant.
 Flat
 OOOKS
 HAN
 UR LAF
 And now that I'm sitting here, I'm beginning to agree with him. Words
 have power, and the words on display in this aisle have a deep
 power. Words and phrases like:
 Affordably gorgeous,
 Infallible,
 Flawless finish,
 Brilliant strength,
 Liquid power,
 Go nude,
 Age defying,
 Instant age rewind,
 Choose your dream,
 Nearly naked, and
 Natural beauty.
 When you have a daughter you start to realize she's just as strong as
 everyone else in the house-a force to be reckoned with, a soul on
 fire with the same life and gifts and passions as any man. But sitting
 in this store aisle, you also begin to realize most people won't see her
 that way. Theyll see her as a pretty face and a body to enjoy. And
 they'll tell her she has to look a certain way to have any worth or
 influence.
 But words do have power and maybe, just maybe, the words of a
 father can begin to compete with the words of the world. Maybe a
 father's words can deliver his daughter through this gauntlet of
 institutionalized shame and into a deep, unshakeable sense of her
 own worthiness and beauty.
 A father's words aren't different words, but they are words with a
 radically different meaning:
 BRILLIANT STRENGTH: May your strength be not in your fingernails
 but in your heat. May you discem in your center who you are, and
 then may you fearfully but tenaciously live it out in the world.
 CHOOSE YOUR DREAM: But not from a department store shelf. Find
 the still-quiet place within you. A real dream has been planted there.
 Discover what you want to do in the world. And when you have
 chosen, may you faithfully pursue it, with integrity and with hope.
 NAKED: The world wants you to take your clothes off. Please keep
 them on. But take your gloves off. Pull no punches. Say what is in
 your heart. Be vulnerable. Embrace risk. Love a world that barely
 knows what it means to love itself. Do so nakedly. Openly. With
 abandon.
 INFALLIBLE: May you be constantly, infallibly aware that infallibility
 doesn't exist. It's an illusion created by people interested in your
 wallet. If you choose to seek perfection, may it be in an infallible
 grace-for yourself, and for everyone around you.
 AGE DEFYING: Your skin will wrinkle and your youth will fade, but
 your soul is ageless. It will always know how to play and how to enjoy
 and how to revel in this one-chance life. May you always defiantly
 resist the aging of your spirit.
 FLAWLESS FINISH: Your finish has nothing to do with how your face
 looks today and everything to do with how your life looks on your last
 day. May your years be a preparation for that day. May you be aged
 by grace, may you grow in wisdom, and may your love become big
 enough to embrace all people. May your flawiess finish be a peaceful
 embrace of the end and the unknown that follows, and may it thus be
 a gift to everyone who cherishes you.
 Little One, you love everything pink and frilly and I wll surely
 understand if someday makeup is important to you. But I pray three
 words will remain more important to you-the last three words you
 say every night, when I ask the question: "Where are you the most
 beautiful?" Three words so bright no concealer can cover them.
 Where are you the most beautiful?
 On the inside.
 From my heart to yours,
 Daddy
 you should probably go to TheMetaPicture.com
lolzandtrollz:

Psychologist Writes The Most Perfect Letter To His Daughter

lolzandtrollz: Psychologist Writes The Most Perfect Letter To His Daughter