President Obama signs $8.7 billion food stamp cut into law

anarcho-queer:

america-wakiewakie:

lose-yourself-in-my-thoughts:

america-wakiewakie:

Ya’ll really think Democrats give a shit about the poor? The Koolaid is strong.

it ain’t about democrats or republics, it’s rich people who don’t care

Elected Democrats and Republicans are primarily rich people who don’t care.

^^

(Source: voidlesscreams)

Accident seemed like an odd word to me for this situation. When I hear the word “accident”, I usually think about spilled milk or the dog urinating on the carpet or even bumper scratch. Accidents were things that you respond to with, “Whoops, sorry!” But with this accident, I wondered: to whom could we even say “sorry” now that a man lay dead?

While I watched, I kept thinking about why these accidents always seemed to happen to black people. And why they were called accidents, when it seemed so clearly to be much more than an accident – when it seemed to be a flaw in a system that called things accidents.

reduced:

Kevin Devine - Alabama Acres

So there’s hundreds of auburn Alabama acres,
With rows of red roofs over warm farmer’s daughters
Who’ve got no intention of inviting me in.
Space shines all above me so I settle myself under it.

When I wake up, I’m back in my crowed city apartment,
With some random men doing work off in the kitchen.
They’re stacking mattresses up now from the ceiling down to the floor.
My father’s sick in the hallway.

I hear him whistling under door.
I rush to lift him, but you all know I’m weak,
And you know that he’s heavy.
There’s no blood in his cheeks,

But he’s smiling straight at me.
I ask the thickest of the workers,
“Would you please come and help me out?”
He comes ambling over and says,

“Sir, I love how your whistling sounds.”
So now we drag him through the kitchen to the living room
And down on the carpet.
He says, “Son, I’m embarrassed,

But the sides of my head hurt.
I just know that I’m tired and I could surely use some rest.”
I tear a mattress down for him and I say,
“Here Dad. Sleep some on this.”

I wake for real, and it’s over.
I’m alone in the acres,
And my dad is still dead.
But if you’re underneath of one of those rooftops,
look out your window and invite me on in.
‘Cause it’s cold and I’m lonely,
and I could sure use a friend.

(via kaliem)

Jimmy was not good at reaching out, and you just knew that anything could be mistaken for a rejection. I felt like I was walking on eggshells at the beginning of our relationship because I so didn’t want to disturb him. He was so frightened of anything that was extended, of letting people in. He’d show you some of himself, you’d really share something, and then you’d feel him backing off, and about an hour later coming to grips with himself. Like, ‘Why did I do that?’ ‘Is it alright that I did that?’ ‘Will she use it against me?’ He was incredibly vulnerable is what I’m trying to say. Yet people were always giving me advice like, ‘What are you doing with him? He’s the sickest boy I ever met…’ ‘You’d better keep away from him, he’s sick…’ No one ever said, ‘Oh Jimmy, yeah I know Jimmy,’ and left it at that. No, sir, people either loved him or got violently angry about him. It was very flipped out and he knew it. He sensed his isolation, though he would often cause it. It wasn’t what Jimmy wanted, but he just didn’t know. He was terribly afraid of approaching people. He used to say that he needed no one, that he cared for no one, which of course was not true. - Barbara Glenn

(Source: jamesdeandaily)

jamesdeandaily:

"He wanted me to love him unconditionally, but Jimmy was not able to love someone else in return … it was the troubled boy that wanted to be loved very badly. I loved Jimmy as I have loved no one else in my life, but I could not give him the enormous amount that he needed. Loving Jimmy was something that could empty a person."

-Pier Angeli

joeylondon:

 Bianca Luini :Where I See Fashion

There are those who search at length for inspiration, be it for a writing piece, sculpture, or fashion, but then there are artists who look no further than what is right in front of them, finding beauty in everyday objects, colours, and shapes. This week we are highlighting the wonderful blog WISP –– Where I See Fashion by Bianca Luini for her wonderful imagery and abstract view of clothing. The blog curator showcases clothing alongside art pieces with corresponding elements of colour, shape, and layout, with even a single image triggering the creative process for designers, which develops into a whole line of clothing or textile designs.

(Source: asylum-art)