Girls, when you’re feeling sad, just remember:
- a vagina can go back to it’s original size after taking something 20x its size
- a penis will end up looking like an empty potato sack that’s been run over quite a lot if it does
you can do this girl
be as resilient as your vagina
shine bright like a ‘gina
"Immature people falling in love destroy each other’s freedom, create a bondage, make a prison. Mature persons in love help each other to be free; they help each other to destroy all sorts of bondages. And when love flows with freedom there is beauty. When love flows with dependence there is ugliness.
A mature person does not fall in love, he or she rises in love. Only immature people fall; they stumble and fall down in love. Somehow they were managing and standing. Now they cannot manage and they cannot stand. They were always ready to fall on the ground and to creep. They don’t have the backbone, the spine; they don’t have the integrity to stand alone.
A mature person has the integrity to stand alone. And when a mature person gives love, he or she gives without any strings attached to it. When two mature persons are in love, one of the great paradoxes of life happens, one of the most beautiful phenomena: they are together and yet tremendously alone. They are together so much that they are almost one. Two mature persons in love help each other to become more free. There is no politics involved, no diplomacy, no effort to dominate. Only freedom and love."
Osho (via electrichoney)
"The decisive question now is: what lies behind the fact that we give ourselves this role and indeed must do so? Have we become too insignificant for ourselves, that we require a role? Why do we find no meaning for ourselves anymore, i.e no essential possibility of being? Is it because an indifference yawns at us out of all things, an indifference whose grounds we do not know?"
Martin Heidegger - Fundamental Concepts of Metaphysics: World, Finitude and Solitude (via fuckyeahexistentialism)
"Recently, when I got out of the elevator at my usual hour, it occurred to me that my life, whose days more and more repeat themselves down to the smallest detail, resembles that punishment in which each pupil must according to his offense write down the same meaningless (in repetition, at least) sentence ten times, a hundred times or even oftener; except that in my case the punishment is given me with only this limitation: “as many times as you can stand it."
Franz Kafka, (via substantia-nigra)