You don't know me. You don't know what I been thro
fishingboatproceeds:

Mario Balotelli is an Italian footballer who may soon become a Liverpool player. He has long been one of my favorite players, and I can’t help but think that the way his reputation in Europe is shaped by race. (Balotelli has been the victim of horrific racist chants throughout his career, but I also think institutional racism shapes media coverage and popular opinion, as pointed out here and elsewhere.)
Balotelli is certainly an unusual footballer: Once, while signing an autograph for a child, Balotelli learned the kid was being bullied, and then drove across town to confront the bully and discuss the matter with the school principal. And he is famed for his generosity, although this is often portrayed popularly as an inability to handle his money well.
He also has a reputation for volatility and immaturity, and is often criticized for getting in fights with teammates. He once threw a dart at a younger player. You hear a lot that Balotelli is crazy and/or lazy. You hear that he stays out late.
Now, I think some of Balotelli’s professional behavior has been poor, and I’m not here to defend it. But look at the way we treat white players:
Liverpool’s Robbie Fowler once PRETENDED TO SNORT THE WHITE POWDER OF THE TOUCH LINE after scoring a goal, in reference to his cocaine use.
Craig Bellamy drunkenly beat a teammate with a golf club. 
Peter Beagrie once drunkenly stole someone’s motorbike and drove it through a hotel’s plate glass window. 
Point being, in all the cases above (and many, many, many more) the offenses were seen as youthful indiscretions, or as hilarious examples of Boys being Boys.
Fowler is now a coach; Beagrie is now a well-respected commentator; and Bellamy is still playing. You rarely hear about his on- and off-field indiscretions, even though they’re probably more numerous than Balotelli’s. Meanwhile, Balotelli makes the news (and gets fined $200,000) for eating curry.
Those of you who follow football will begin to hear a lot about Balotelli if he returns to play in England. You will hear about how he cried after being substituted (although you might not hear that he cried because he had to sit on the bench while racist chants rang through the stadium). You will hear about how he is “wild” and “unpredictable” and “lazy.” 
But watch him play. Watch how good and smart and creative he can be, how he can find paths to goal that make people call him lazy (they called Messi lazy, too, remember) when really he is just waiting, like the chess master who sees four moves ahead. Watch him off the ball, moving to reshape the opposition’s defense.
And then watch him score, turn around unsmiling, and lift his shirt to ask the immense and complicated question.

fishingboatproceeds:

Mario Balotelli is an Italian footballer who may soon become a Liverpool player. He has long been one of my favorite players, and I can’t help but think that the way his reputation in Europe is shaped by race. (Balotelli has been the victim of horrific racist chants throughout his career, but I also think institutional racism shapes media coverage and popular opinion, as pointed out here and elsewhere.)

Balotelli is certainly an unusual footballer: Once, while signing an autograph for a child, Balotelli learned the kid was being bullied, and then drove across town to confront the bully and discuss the matter with the school principal. And he is famed for his generosity, although this is often portrayed popularly as an inability to handle his money well.

He also has a reputation for volatility and immaturity, and is often criticized for getting in fights with teammates. He once threw a dart at a younger player. You hear a lot that Balotelli is crazy and/or lazy. You hear that he stays out late.

Now, I think some of Balotelli’s professional behavior has been poor, and I’m not here to defend it. But look at the way we treat white players:

Liverpool’s Robbie Fowler once PRETENDED TO SNORT THE WHITE POWDER OF THE TOUCH LINE after scoring a goal, in reference to his cocaine use.

Craig Bellamy drunkenly beat a teammate with a golf club

Peter Beagrie once drunkenly stole someone’s motorbike and drove it through a hotel’s plate glass window

Point being, in all the cases above (and many, many, many more) the offenses were seen as youthful indiscretions, or as hilarious examples of Boys being Boys.

Fowler is now a coach; Beagrie is now a well-respected commentator; and Bellamy is still playing. You rarely hear about his on- and off-field indiscretions, even though they’re probably more numerous than Balotelli’s. Meanwhile, Balotelli makes the news (and gets fined $200,000) for eating curry.

Those of you who follow football will begin to hear a lot about Balotelli if he returns to play in England. You will hear about how he cried after being substituted (although you might not hear that he cried because he had to sit on the bench while racist chants rang through the stadium). You will hear about how he is “wild” and “unpredictable” and “lazy.” 

But watch him play. Watch how good and smart and creative he can be, how he can find paths to goal that make people call him lazy (they called Messi lazy, too, remember) when really he is just waiting, like the chess master who sees four moves ahead. Watch him off the ball, moving to reshape the opposition’s defense.

And then watch him score, turn around unsmiling, and lift his shirt to ask the immense and complicated question.

So I’m friends with this pair of twins who couldn’t be more opposite.

One is a guitar shredding, weed smoking, politically minded people person and the other is a super talented violinist with no social capability who’s been taking college math since sophomore year. And they don’t even look alike.

I have AP Lit&Comp with both of them and honestly, it’s like the best thing ever. Today they arm wrestled over who got to read the poem and whenever Dene made stupid comments about some connection he made in it, AJ would help him out by charming everyone into crediting Dene.

Twins are the best.

This shall be my school week:
Somebodys got a case of the Mondays
Scary movie Tuesdays
On Wednesdays we wear pink
Yesterday was Thursday
Fancy Fridays

In layman’s terms:
I get to be bitch on Mondays
Tuesdays we get together and watch a scary movie
If I don’t wear pink on Wednesdays, I can’t sit with The Plastics
Thursday is just an weird time of the week
Fridays I wear fancy clothes without feeling too overdressed for school

My fucking hometown, y’all. Way to put yourself on the map, St. Louis, and congratulations to everyone who helped in the effort to get us this far -_-

My fucking hometown, y’all. Way to put yourself on the map, St. Louis, and congratulations to everyone who helped in the effort to get us this far -_-

When law and morality contradict each other, the citizen has the cruel alternative of either losing his moral sense or losing his respect for the law.
Frédéric Bastiat (via antigovernmentextremist)

"What’s wrong with death sir? What are we so mortally afraid of? Why can’t we treat death with a certain amount of humanity and dignity, and decency, and God forbid, maybe even humor.
Death is not the enemy gentlemen. If we’re going to fight a disease, let’s fight one of the most terrible diseases of all, indifference.”
                                          
Patch Adams (1998)

I appreciate good hair

aietala:

I seriously just want someone who actually cares. Who would go out of their way for me in seconds. Who stares at me as if I’m the greatest thing in the world when really I’m an annoying shit. Someone that I can just call up and say “I need you right now” and not be ashamed of it. I need so much constant love and attention and reminders. And I just need someone who can do that for me.

I dream of sleep so I may dream
Of things to keep reality at bay
Pressure, drama, fatigue, scream
Perfection is my forte

I dream of sleep so I may dream
Of things to keep reality at bay
Pressure, drama, fatigue, scream
All I ask is for a bae

To drain the fear out of my brain

I never trusted you with my heart
but you broke it anyway
Jeigo - never really yours (via jeigo)