July 2011
“Curvy women are real women. Skinny women are real women. Women who have had boob jobs or lip enhancements or liposuction are still real women. Size 0 may make no sense mathematically, but a woman who wears that size is as real as the one who wears a size 16. What makes us “real” people is not the shape of our flesh but our basic humanity. And we lose our humanity when we judge – not when we lose weight, gain weight, or make the intensely personal decision to undergo cosmetic surgery.”
—Hugo Schwyzer (via felicefawn)
Every time I voice my opinions on anything to anyone or try to converse with anyone, I always regret it and get depressed and wish to never talk to anyone again.
I rarely talk to anyone but my mum about anything and then I ramble on for ages and ages about everything that has crossed my mind since the last time I conversed with a human. I can’t help but wonder if she gets tired of it. And it’s bad enough that my two best friends always seem to make me believe that everything that comes out of my mouth is pure idiocy, and they call me their pet (meaning a lower being) and they wonder, along with probably most people, why I never seem to have an opinion on anything. I know my friends are partially joking around, but at times, it just makes me feel like utter crap, when all I ever do is try to make them happy.
Sorry for ranting, you probably don’t care, but sometimes I need to say things to someone/something because there’s nobody in my head to tell that doesn’t already know.
