I Was Speaking To A Customer In Japanese Once At Work And My Coworker Overheard Me And Later In The Break

I HATE DISSS

probably true

whatever happens tomorrow, just know its white people’s fault

cant believe nessie is rly a 34 yr old accountant from akron, ohio

ORANGE AESTHETIC LOCKSCREENS

BE HONEST if you save or use, please like/reblog

SEJA HONESTO se você salvar ou usar, por favor like/reblog

requests are open

@badgurlouis

dude i can’t believe we shared a vape and u won’t even hold hands with me ? bro .. are u embarrassed of me ? be honest

If you have to speculate if someone loves you and wants to be with you, chances are they don’t. It’s not that complicated. Love, in most cases, betrays the one feeling it.

honestly i peaked as a zygote like.. i was completely androgynous.. unproblematic.. no acne… truly my golden years

Tears fill my eyes as I read the words on my screen. The world seems to stop spinning for the slightest second as I re-read the anonymous message over and over again, gripping on to the hope that the words will magically disappear. But they didn’t. Anon had done it; they’d figured out that the only way to make me take off my hijab was to call my hair ugly. My one weakness.

A tear streams down my left cheek.

Eight years of academy hijab training…wasted. I had to prove this extremely relevant and good-looking anonymous person wrong, I cared too much about what they thought. How could I live my life knowing that there is one person out there who thinks probably my hair is ugly maybe? How could I look myself in the mirror? How could I face my family? My shoulders shook as I cried silently, and my chair squeaked ever so slightly at the vibrations; as if it, too, was crying in sorrow.

It wasn’t until that moment that the second part of the message dawned on me… how would I prove them wrong without breaking the rules? Was it really against the rules? I reach into my hijab and pull out a scroll. At the very top, in cursive jet-black inked letters, the word ‘Rules’ stares back at me. My heart is racing as my eyes frantically read the scroll.

‘Rule #1: no killing people,’ it reads. I let out a whimper. There go my evening plans. 

Suddenly, my eye catches the next words. The scroll is rustling in my trembling hands as I turn my face away, tears spraying out of my eyes like the spit of a white person as they try to justify racism. The cursive words felt more like a curse of words, vivid and refusing to disappear as if I were still staring at them even through my closed eyes.

Rule #2: don’t show ur hair girl it’s ugly lmaooooo