Rayy

This is the international pedophile uncle greeting. Little girls all over the world know this sign of a dirty old man trying to diddle you.

I love Yungblud a little too much, man!

I need to see Yungblud before I die.

All good things must come an end but why me?😭😭😭

Maybe all I needed was a change of environment to not kms. I miss Freya though.

Again and again, we see that the reason many men are triggered when women talk about rape is that, given the opportunity, they absolutely would rape a woman.

Dead men don't rape.

You’re either a feminist or a big fool. There’s no in between.

The obsession with policing women’s bodies is so strange. She’s the one speaking at the conference and somehow her skirt is the focus

One of the biggest scams is scented candles that don’t release any fragrance when lit, so annoying 😒

This miniskirt conversation is so funny to me because y'all will not be talking shit if a skinny babe wore that same outfit. The skirt isn't even that short. Dfkm.

I just adopted an absolute angel. My hearrrrtttttt! Aaaarghhhhhhh!😭🥺

@ii_naya_ Thank you.

@elcaarim I’m so sorry 🫂

Again, I hate male medical practitioners who specialise in women's bodies. Disgusting and creepy folks. Fml!

I feel like I've not gotten my "big girl job" yet. This can't be my big girl job...Where's the softness?

Same person who didn't approve of Deke changed her stance once she found out he had money. Weirdo.

Caroline Channing is an awful friend, in my opinion.

Plus Lionel Luthor is hot af!

I'm rewatching Smallville and how in god's name did they convince us that Clark was 14/15? This grown ass father of five?

I think about my father a lot. And oftentimes it’s with a certain kind of resentment. I wish he was a bit more selfish. I wish he didn’t have so many kids. Maybe if he had just one, the resources he had would have been enough. Enough to care for a small family and still leave something for himself. Enough to chase his own dreams. Enough to rest. Maybe then he wouldn’t have died from stress and high blood pressure. He lost all his siblings to the war. And his father was a bastard who decided that the only style of parenting he was capable of was the one that involved absence. And so when he had us, he gave and gave. To us and to others. Never leaving anything for himself. He used to say he never saw us as his children, but as the siblings he never got to fully experience. And so, for the most part, he treated us like equals. He wore rags so we could go to the best schools available to the middle class. He lived his entire life content with watching us live. And then he died abruptly, before we actually started living. I never got to spoil him with even a single naira. I built a whole house for my mom and he wasn’t there to see that his Ada Mazi, who could do no wrong in his eyes, was now doing things that were considered out of reach for people like us. That his Ada Mazi, who he wholeheartedly believed was meant for things beyond our background, was now living them. Fuck you, death. Fuck you, grief. Every day one question haunts me. Was he happy. Did he die happy. Because if he did all that and didn’t die happy, it would break me even more. He tried to outrun the absence of his father with an overwhelming presence and instead abruptly ran into a different kind of absence. It’s been eight years and I still can’t move on. Because why am I on a treadmill at 10 incline and 4.5 speed, bawling my eyes out? Fuck everything, mehn.