If You Tell A Boy Whose Hair Is Curly And Wild And Who Dresses In Faded Holey T-shirts That Smell Like

Best fucking thing I’ve ever read.

[The Queen Below - @hynpos]

by salvadormaliii

A sane person to an insane society must appear insane.

Kurt Vonnegut, Welcome to the Monkey House (via quotespile)

When you think of Persephone you think of the lost girl who was tricked by the lord of the underworld. You don't think of the girl who knew what the pomegranate was for but ate it anyway The girl with lust in her eyes and a freedom in her soul The girl trapped by the expectation of her heritage She could stay but she knew her mother would burn the world down in order to bring her back So she rose from a throne of bones and death and returned life to the world 6 long months spend in the sun dreaming of the dark and the cold beneath the earth taking it's life force with her. Dreaming of him and the night spent whispering everything and nothing to each other on the banks of the river styx's Collecting souls like she once collected flowers in full bloom.

late night thoughts 

Boyfriend

Some girls say they don’t need a man. Some girls say men and women should be treated equally. A lot of girls don’t think boys should be protective or get jealous. Not me. I can’t go a day without asking my dad, brothers, or guy friends to help me. I definitely need a man. I don’t really feel the need for men and women to be treated equally. I want a relationship where I am my man’s little woman straight out of the 50s. And I daydream all the time about a man who will beat up anyone who he feels is hurting me or hitting on me without a second thought. I want a man who will fight other guys for me. And win. I’m looking for a man. Not a boy.

perhaps the goddesses of old still live

i. perhaps artemis can be found in the wild girls. perhaps she is in the woman who brings signs and banners to protests, the woman who guards the wildlife that is left. perhaps in the protected forests, perhaps in the girls who tie themselves to the thousand year old sycamores, perhaps in their chains. 

ii. perhaps hestia can be found in the woman who runs the homeless shelter for women. perhaps in her wrinkled hands which knead dough over and over again to feed those without. perhaps in her eyes, which age every time another girl comes in with a hijab torn off, or her skin bruised, or her home taken from her. 

iii. perhaps athena can be found in the women who invent a new world. in the way that their computers blink as they find ways to reshape the universe. perhaps in the stars, which they will be the first to fine. perhaps in the professor of science, the woman who taught her children to be smarter than her. perhaps in the books which she writes, or the podium which she carves for herself.

iv. perhaps demeter can be found in the gardens which the caretaker in the retired community tends to. perhaps in the soil and the seeds and the stems and the little green sprout. perhaps she can be found in the girls who tend to fields of daisies, or in the girls who tend to fields of corn. perhaps in the songs the earth sings, or in the girls who still know the language. 

i am terrified that twenty years from now i will still look back and feel an ache when i remember the boy who broke my heart all those years ago. and i’ll somehow still miss you. but for you, i’ll probably be just one of the many girls you dated when you were young. you’ll look back and only remember a foggy memory of me; my face, a blurry vision in your mind.

— i think i’ll miss you forever

I was on a walk when I saw Death at a street corner. I didn’t like him so I just power-walked right past him. He got flustered and hurried after me while trying to talk to me, but I kept ignoring him.

One of my favorite stories about Artemis is that after she required Agamemnon to sacrifice his daughter Iphigenia, she stole her away at the last moment and left a white deer in her place. After that, people disagree on what happened, but I like the story where Artemis transforms her into Hecate, because can you imagine them in the modern era?

Artemis, protector of young women and goddess of the hunt turned vigilante, hunting down the ones who attack girls in dark alleys, the ones with beer-hard hands and no sense of decency even if they’d been sober anyway.

But when Artemis finds the girls, she takes them to Hecate–Hecate, who was mortal once, led like a lamb to an altar by a man who was supposed to protect her. And sure, Artemis is the one who makes them pay, who delights in their screams and dances in the moonlight once she knows those men will be scared of the dark forever, spend their entire lives looking over their shoulders fearing her.

But Hecate… Hecate is good with herbs and potions and she understands the nightmares, the heart-pounding, sweaty hands panic that wakes them up screaming in the middle of the night, and she makes them herbal draughts to help them sleep, because unlike Artemis, Hecate understands. She isn’t vengeful, an angry older sister out for blood like Artemis. She’s the best friend, the mother, and the sister rolled all into one.

So Artemis avenges them and Hecate cares for them and the moon-goddess Selene shines her absolute brightest for them, fills every shadow with bright silver so they don’t need to be afraid of the dark anymore, and the three goddesses call these their Lost Girls, and at first Apollo was sort of skeptical but there’s no stopping Artemis when she sets her mind on something, and before Apollo quite realizes it, he’s running beside his sister, chasing a boy who couldn’t keep his hands to himself, and he’s never felt more right.