Hey guys. I know a lot of people have been helped by the tumblr community and since life’s been pretty hard for me right now and I don’t know where to turn to anymore, so I might as well give this a shot.
Tumblr community, please hear me out.
My family’s in a financial crisis right now. My dad just lost his job and the prospect of finding a new one in a small and humble town is close to 0%. I’m currently the only one earning in the family at the moment.
Sadly, since I am working away from home, I also have my own bills to pay. I’ve even reduced a great deal of my personal expenses just so I can send more money to them but unfortunately, it’s still not enough to pay for my brother’s college expenses.
Even just for a short while, until we can get back up. We really need your help.
You don’t have to donate if you don’t want to. A word of encouragement, a virtual hug or simply just by spreading the word…will be a great deal of help for me. But if any of you guys are willing to give an amount, you can send them to email@example.com via paypal (every dollar, peso or whatever currency you have there counts). It’ll help a lot.
Also, I’m opening up commisions here on my art blog. If any of you are interested, feel free to PM me and I’ll reply as soon as I can.
If you have a space for me there in your page, please reblog and help spread the word. For questions, feel free to PM me. Thank you and stay awesome :D
Hey awesome people :D. This post is from my other blog. I’m now opening up commissions in order to help my brother with his college expenses.
To anyone interested, please check this page.
Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. I have already heard the word rubbed raw across the flesh of so many girls before me. Thrown at them like rocks that beat the skin of those we do not understand.
“You are beautiful,” we yell with such contempt. “God dammit, why won’t you just believe me, you’re beautiful!” It is not a compliment. It is a victory march of your own self sacrifice. “You’re beautiful,” we say through gritted teeth. “You’re beautiful,” we spit out through tears, looking at a reflection we hate. “You’re beautiful,” we say, holding a body that has never felt the arms of another. “You’re beautiful.”
Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. A word like that floats on the surface, give me something with depth. Tell me I’m intelligent. Tell me I’m courageous. Tell me that when I laugh the whole world smiles. Tell me that my voice is sweeter than strawberries. Remind me that my hands have helped flowers grow, painted the ocean, and captured the sky in my phone. Assure me that with a mind like mine, I can change the world.
Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. I don’t really care if it’s true. I’ve spent years trying to convince myself that beauty goes through and through. Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. I’ve felt the word splatter against me enough for a lifetime. I am better than the “beautiful” that slips from your lips. I am the ocean, 36,000 feet deep. There are parts of me you have never seen. I am outer space, infinite in your search. I am not simply “beautiful.” I’m a fucking masterpiece.