little-innocent-sister

[little-innocent-sister]

[little-innocent-sister]

If a child is so afraid of getting in trouble that they don't come to their parents when they make a mistake that could possibly put their health or even their life in danger, then those parents have failed.

If something goes wrong, and the first thing that child thinks is, "oh god, my parents are gonna kill me," then the parents have failed.

If a child is afraid of their parents, if the child sees their parents as an active threat instead of a source of safety and guidance, then the parents have failed.

A parents job is to protect, to teach, to guide.

If a parent makes themself a danger to the child, in any capacity, then that parent has failed.

[little-innocent-sister]

live laugh love? nah. languish lament lay down

[little-innocent-sister]

being in your early twenties is like [grocery shopping alone] [having instant noodles for dinner] [remembering random details about that one friend you haven't spoken to in five years] [feeling overwhelming guilt for every purchase that isn't strictly "necessary"] [having midday naps] [finding out through facebook that the girl who was mean to you in high school has a husband and a baby] [falling a little in love with every stranger on public transport] [pretending you're not afraid of being alone] [wondering when you'll feel like a fully realized person] [listening to bands you liked in middle school] [blinking and it's suddenly december] [failing to imagine yourself ten years from now] [feeling like you're running out of time]

[little-innocent-sister]

Lmao ur cute af lemme talk to you

talk then

[little-innocent-sister]

things are going to be difficult. But you

[little-innocent-sister]

this poem lives rent free in my mind

[little-innocent-sister]

Baby Clifford & baby Snoopy

[little-innocent-sister]

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

[little-innocent-sister]

not 2 be dramatic but those posts yall make that reunite poetry about a certain subject... that is what art is about

[little-innocent-sister]

man ive been watching videos of sheep getting shorn all night. makes me wanna be a sheep, getting man handled by a farmer who loves me, emerging from my cocoon of wool a totally new being. prancing around the barnyard so free, no longer weighed down by winter. i have clinical depression 

[little-innocent-sister]

[little-innocent-sister]

I was taking pics of this kitten sitting on her mom when her sister came to square up

[little-innocent-sister]

every person can feel freddie’s presence in their souls when they sing MAMAAAAAA UUHHHH, I DONT WANNA DIE, I SOMETIMES I WISH I’VE NEVER BEEN BORN AT ALL with all the air in their lungs i’m not joking

[little-innocent-sister]

the kids are alright.

[little-innocent-sister]

[little-innocent-sister]

“[after a half-hearted suicide attempt at age 13] When Daddy comes in, he carries you to bed. Is there anything you feel like you could eat, Pokey? Anything at all? All you can imagine putting in your mouth is a cold plum, one with really tight skin on the outside but gum-shocking sweetness inside. And he and your mother discuss where he might find some this late in the season. Mother says hell I don’t know. Further north, I’d guess. The next morning, you wake up in your bed and sit up. Mother says, Pete, I think she’s up. He hollers in, You ready for breakfast, Pokey. Then he comes in grinning, still in his work clothes from the night before. He’s holding a farm bushel. The plums he empties onto the bed river toward you through folds in the quilt. If you stacked them up, they’d fill the deepest bin at the Piggly Wiggly. Damned if I didn’t get the urge to drive to Arkansas last night, he says. Your mother stands behind him saying he’s pure USDA crazy. Fort Smith, Arkansas. Found a roadside stand out there with a feller selling plums. And I says, Buddy, I got a little girl sick back in Texas. She’s got a hanker for plums and ain’t nothing else gonna do. It’s when you sink your teeth into the plum that you make a promise. The skin is still warm from riding in the sun in Daddy’s truck, and the nectar runs down your chin. And you snap out of it. Or are snapped out of it. Never again will you lay a hand against yourself, not so long as there are plums to eat and somebody-anybody-who gives enough of a damn to haul them to you. So long as you bear the least nibblet of love for any other creature in this dark world, though in love portions are never stingy. There are no smidgens or pinches, only rolling abundance. That’s how you acquire the resolution for survival that the coming years are about to demand. You don’t earn it. It’s given.”

— Mary Karr, from Cherry