When little black girls, especially little black dark skin girls, enter this world it is very clear, the rules are made very aware, who is beautiful, and valued, and who is not. Simply because we are black, simply because we are not white, we are deemed inferior, unintelligent, and ugly. 

You would rather paint your white women brown, then dare allow a black woman exist and be deemed as beautiful. It is not our place to be called beautiful unless there is a catch, unless there is an asterisk. “You’re pretty!*” 

*for a black girl 

You will spend money tanning, but call black women monkeys and ‘dirty’, our hair styles are ghetto, till your magazine has a step by step tutorial on how to achieve the same look, so it’s not ghetto, it’s just ghetto on us. It ‘works’ on you. 

We are taught certain rules when we are young, ‘You look so much prettier with straight hair!’ ‘Oh, thank god she light skin,’ ‘Don’t stay out in the sun you’ll look burnt,’ ‘Yeah but that hair isn’t professional-‘ 

We are taught to hide, to assimilate, to be close to whiteness because whiteness is acceptable and we are not. We get these rules as children. So to grow up, learning and adapting to these rules, and then seeing white people praised for stealing our culture, our dress,

if a photo of us dressed like that appeared on the news, people would say any injustice we faced, was deserved, ‘look at them, dressed like that.’

But you can wear it, freely, without judgement, without risk. No one would say you deserved to die. No one would give your killer half of a million dollars, as basically a congratulations, a pat on the back, for murdering you. 

Just our natural being is a threat to you, we are born villains to you. We possess this great threat, but at the same time, you look down on us, expect us to be stupid, low class, dirty… we are not on your level, you still see us as your servants in your culture, but pretend to be the gods in ours. 

It’s confusing. It’s confusing to be a black woman, to be made a joke, and all the punch lines, our hair, skin tone, lips, body… you try to imitate, but it’s not that, it isn’t, it’s our very existence that’s a joke to you. And if you are white, and reading this, and offended, 

Fuck you. 

Fuck you, fuck your whole ancestry line, and fuck your future generations. 

top image from here 


PJO AUs That Need to Be Written


  • Medieval
  • Renaissance
  • Elizabethan Theatre
  • Skins (UK)
  • Modern Theatre
  • Boarding School
  • College
  • Newsies
  • 1920s Mobsters
  • Army
  • Restaurant (as in they work in the restaurant)
  • Fraternity/Sorority
  • Royal
  • Runaways
  • Hunger Games (tbh I never liked the book series that much but this concept could be heartbreakingly interesting)
  • Rock Band
  • Folk Band
  • Colonial America
  • Cowboys/Cowgirls
  • Ancient Greece/Rome
  • Teachers
  • Nudist Community

Fangirl moments


So every one in a while I’ll start screaming and going crazy with feelings cause idk Sydrian have sex or Percabeth fall into Tartarus and svfgsousfgf my family get angry and weLL I CAN’T HELP IT OKAY YOU TRY BEING EMOTIONALLY RELIANT ON FICTIONAL CHARACTERS… and apparently I’m becoming a typical teenager by locking myself in my room. Maybe I want to study? Or watch tv shows? Or have some privacy after a long day at school?