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Hi I'm Kallon, this is my life. I'm sixteen years old and in Canada. I've had a certain idea of my own personal beauty my whole life and I've always got just short of it. This blog is dedicated to everything I'd like to be and achieving that goal, everything on here are things that inspire me! Read my Goals page to see what I'm doing!

July, 15, 2012

  • Apr 8th 2013
    ♥ 7,231 notes
    Jan 30th 2013
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    Jan 29th 2013
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    It’s taboo to admit that you’re lonely. You can make jokes about it, of course. You can tell people that you spend most of your time with Netflix or that you haven’t left the house today and you might not even go outside tomorrow. Ha ha, funny. But rarely do you ever tell people about the true depths of your loneliness, about how you feel more and more alienated from your friends each passing day and you’re not sure how to fix it. It seems like everyone is just better at living than you are.

    A part of you knew this was going to happen. Growing up, you just had this feeling that you wouldn’t transition well to adult life, that you’d fall right through the cracks. And look at you now. La di da, it’s happening.

    Your mother, your father, your grandparents: they all look at you like you’re some prized jewel and they tell you over and over again just how lucky you are to be young and have your whole life ahead of you. “Getting old ain’t for sissies,” your father tells you wearily.

    You wish they’d stop saying these things to you because all it does is fill you with guilt and panic. All it does is remind you of how much you’re not taking advantage of your youth.

    You want to kiss all kinds of different people, you want to wake up in a stranger’s bed maybe once or twice just to see if it feels good to feel nothing, you want to have a group of friends that feels like a tribe, a bonafide family. You want to go from one place to the next constantly and have your weekends feel like one long epic day. You want to dance to stupid music in your stupid room and have a nice job that doesn’t get in the way of living your life too much. You want to be less scared, less anxious, and more willing. Because if you’re closed off now, you can only imagine what you’ll be like later.

    Every day you vow to change some aspect of your life and every day you fail. At this point, you’re starting to question your own power as a human being. As of right now, your fears have you beat. They’re the ones that are holding your twenties hostage.

    Stop thinking that everyone is having more sex than you, that everyone has more friends than you, that everyone out is having more fun than you. Not because it’s not true (it might be!) but because that kind of thinking leaves you frozen. You’ve already spent enough time feeling like you’re stuck, like you’re watching your life fall through you like a fast dissolve and you’re unable to hold on to anything.

    I don’t know if you ever get better. I don’t know if a person can just wake up one day and decide to be an active participant in their life. I’d like to think so. I’d like to think that people get better each and every day but that’s not really true. People get worse and it’s their stories that end up getting forgotten because we can’t stand an unhappy ending. The sick have to get better. Our normalcy depends upon it.

    You have to value yourself. You have to want great things for your life. This sort of shit doesn’t happen overnight but it can and will happen if you want it.

    Do you want it bad enough? Does the fear of being filled with regret in your thirties trump your fear of living today?

    We shall see.

  • - You’re Not Making The Most Of Your 20s by Ryan O’Connell  (via paperocean)

    (Source: hidingfromoursins)


  • Jan 26th 2013
    ♥ 20,985 notes
    mochafleur:

brutifulmind:

shasana:

sancophaleague:

Recently I was in the shopping mall  and I happened to hear a conversation between some people discussing their dislike for this black girl’s hairstyle who had just previously walked by. One of them called the girl’s  hairstyle “ghetto”, then followed up by saying  “I hate when black girls put all them colors in their hair”. It led me to ask this question, what is ghetto really?  Because I have seen similar hairstyles with Caucasian women never labeled as ghetto. The word “ghetto” has a negative stigma attached to it and it seems like ghetto has become synonymous for “Black People”.What determines whether something is Ghetto or not? Why do some people consider one ghetto and not the other? Is being crafty with the supplies available to me ghetto?  Is being creative while black unacceptable? Does the price of something determine whether you should consider it ghetto or not? Or maybe I’m wrong…. Please do share your thoughts….@hated_logic

You’re exactly right. Just like when Black people improvise, it’s ghetto, but let a middle-to-upper class white person do it, it’s a lifehack, or being thrifty, or economical, or thinking out of the box, or brilliant, or whatever.

I really wish black people would quit complaining about how white people have labeled them. You have done this to yourselves. Now before you flip shit on me, just read through this and know that I am not implying that all black people are the same, but those of you whom are educated and live ‘normal’ lives have become victims of your own enthicity: you guys get mad and all irritated when people refer to you as ghetto and whatnot, look at the stupid ‘gangster’ fucks that have created the stereotype you are grouped with. Be mad at your own color. Don’t get mad at us because we assume you are all deadbeat lazy people. And newsflash: these girls being compared in the above photos, the white girls that do their hair like that are like 14. Very rarely do you see grown Caucasian women with weird colors and weave in and if you do-you best believe we get shit for it too.Yet there are these black old ladies with hot pink highlights. What do you expect? GROW UP. You and you alone are to blame for the judgements and stereotypes. When are you all going to run out of shit to complain about?! 
You think that me, a semi-atractive Caucasian female with lots of tattoos and piercings doesn’t get insulted and grouped with stereotypes and called names? You’re wrong, because i get thrown into the ‘trashy’ group of trailer inhabitants that are drunk and lazy when in fact I am a functioning member of society with a going on 3 year old  career and only 21 years old. I’m the one that pays your welfare checks so shut the fuck up and get over it. If you like the way your hair is isn’t that all that matters? I think you all just want shit to complain about so people feel sorry for you because you’re the ‘minority’. Wrong again. Caucasian people are the minority of the world. 
FUCKKKKKKK YOUUUUUU!

“Don’t get mad at us because we assume you are all deadbeat lazy people”
“You and you alone are to blame for the judgements and stereotypes.”
“I’m the one that pays your welfare checks so shut the fuck up and get over it”
What the fuck is wrong with white people and the disassociation they have with Black people being human beings?
What is wrong with them?
I just want to know.

I’ve never thought of black girls with coloured hair as ghetto nor has anyone that i know.
    Jan 26th 2013
    ♥ 768 notes
    visitheworld:

The Lost City of the Incas, Machu Picchu, Peru (by Marc Shandro).
    Jan 26th 2013
    ♥ 21,452 notes
    dwagginhugs:

tearybabylaura:

tearybabylaura:

Chris and i decided to play a prank on our roommate.

and then we added to it

and it glows


oh my god
    Jan 26th 2013
    ♥ 90,739 notes
    freedomisalengthofrope:

When I was in kindergarten, there was a new girl named Mia who came from Japan, I believe, and I was assigned to be her helper because she couldn’t speak English. Over the few months we spent together, we became really close, and we had flashcards with the characters for an English word, and we could figure out what she was trying to tell us with those. I actually taught her quite a few different sentences and sayings in English after a while. I remember that she would get nosebleeds often, and each time I would escort her to the nurse, they would tell me to leave but she would make me stay with her. At our school we had a field day and me and her were never apart from each other the whole time. (Shown above) After a while, she had to move away with her family, and I never saw her again. I’ve really wanted to know how she’s changed for a very long time now. I know this is a long shot, but I’ve been wanting to talk to her again over some social network because I’ve missed her for a really long time, and I was hoping some of you guys would reblog for me. I can’t remember her last name.
    Jan 24th 2013
    ♥ 28,351 notes

    originalcallum:

    ah yes, work. *picks up briefcase and walks away slowly* *trips over dog* *briefcase falls and breaks open* *hundreds of yugioh cards fall out* i must leave

    (Source: callurn)

    Jan 24th 2013
    ♥ 174,032 notes
    Jan 24th 2013
    ♥ 76,190 notes
    jennieintechnicolour:

avo-lifts:

what-w3-think-we-become:

radarpaal:

oh it’s that time of night again is it

YES


I’M BORED AND PROCRASTINATING SO WHY NOT

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