If you knew me 1+ years ago, and we don’t really talk anymore… you do not know me now. I have changed so much since then and you genuinely don’t know who I am anymore. Your perception of me is of someone who no longer exists, just a past version of myself I grew out of.
“We were camping and i heard something kicking through the brush, and at first i thought it was a wild horse. Are there wild horses out that way? Anyway, it wasn’t a wild horse, or any horse.”
ive been thinking and honest to god: i think i would actually join a girl gang if the offer came. like a legitimate, hierarchical, “let’s carry knives under our skirts and beat up men” gang. fuck college
bringing back the sukeban girl gangs from the 70’s that wore long skirts against teen sexualization and fucked things up for the patriarchy
and this was no “5 girls in a small town” who made the news—this was yakuza level shit. 20,000 girls getting into gang fights and shoplifting and getting pissed off that only men were allowed to be rough and violent and angry
and y’all wanna know the funniest part? immediately after this trend blew up, the Men decided to sexualize the hell out of these girls. this included movie adaptations and pornos where the skirts were made shorter and the tits were bigger cause apparently they had found their new fetish
but here’s how they actually looked, and it’s actually pretty badass:
“Someone left a phone with a busted screen in a road-stop toilet stall. I’d pulled in while driving home after making a delivery and i needed coffee. This photo was the only thing on it.”
