Wise Guy

Brianna.

23.

Asshole.

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flvckooo:

praxis89:

Orange in his Hand
I see two men sweat at the exit of the freeway.
One is brown and burnt from the sun rays the other is white with an American Flag stitched across his trucker hat.
They both wear dirty clothes. They both burn  to hold a little green.
One sells oranges, walking up and down the street.  One holds a sign that reads, “I’m hungry, help me eat.” I feel for both of them, but I only admire one.
The one who hands oranges in bags to tired faces, who chases cars for his change, who counts pennies as profit to keep his apartment.
The one whose wife wakes before sunrise to walk through Los Angeles streets yelling “tamales, tamales” with a 4 year old daughter  at her side.
The mother who crossed over 4 years earlier so her daughter wouldn’t have to sell tamales with a baby at her side.
The father tells his son never to beg, but to work hard for the bread. So the son sells Cheetos at his high school and gets called beaner for not owning  named brand clothes. A son who must bring dollars before good grades because rent is two weeks late. A son who will one day hold  a gun to the head of a liquor store clerk, only to remember  his father’s words.
Mijo, work hard for the bread.
Rent is two weeks late  so the family breaks tax laws to make jobs and they lifts roses to the sky hoping someone passing by is falling in love again, so the family takes elotes to the neighborhood projects hoping the ninos are hungry.
The news says this family is here to take my job,  my seat in school,  my country, but the only thing they’re taking  is the risk of being handcuffed, broken and deported in the name of family in the name of love in the name of trying  everything to stay above the current and that is why I can’t help
But to admire the man with an orange in his hand, a fireball of hunger in his palm.

yoo I fucking shed a tear, beautiful

flvckooo:

praxis89:

Orange in his Hand

I see two men sweat
at the exit
of the freeway.

One is brown and burnt
from the sun rays
the other is white
with an American Flag
stitched across his trucker hat.

They both wear dirty clothes.
They both burn
to hold
a little green.

One sells oranges, walking up
and down the street.
One holds a sign that reads,
“I’m hungry, help me eat.”
I feel for both of them,
but I only admire one.

The one who hands
oranges in bags to tired faces,
who chases cars
for his change,
who counts pennies
as profit
to keep his apartment.

The one whose wife wakes
before sunrise to walk
through Los Angeles streets
yelling “tamales, tamales”
with a 4 year old daughter
at her side.

The mother who crossed over
4 years earlier so her daughter
wouldn’t have to sell tamales
with a baby at her side.

The father tells his son
never to beg,
but to work hard for the bread.
So the son sells Cheetos
at his high school
and gets called beaner
for not owning
named brand clothes.
A son who must bring dollars
before good grades
because rent is two weeks late.
A son who will one day hold
a gun to the head
of a liquor store clerk,
only to remember
his father’s words.

Mijo, work hard for the bread.

Rent is two weeks late
so the family
breaks tax laws to make jobs
and they lifts roses to the sky
hoping someone passing by
is falling in love again,
so the family
takes elotes
to the neighborhood projects
hoping the ninos are hungry.

The news says this family is here
to take my job,
my seat in school,
my country,
but the only thing they’re taking
is the risk
of being handcuffed,
broken and deported
in the name of family
in the name of love
in the name of trying
everything to stay above
the current
and that is why
I can’t help

But to admire the man
with an orange in his hand,
a fireball of hunger in his palm.

yoo I fucking shed a tear, beautiful

camouflages:

do you ever just read one little thing that kills you inside

1 week ago with 147,878 notes
I know what makes him cry and I know what makes him cum. So I win.

— My co-worker, on her ex. (via ziraffe)

1 week ago with 51,277 notes

bearfluff:

i can’t wait until october when there’s no sun outside and everything is cute colors and it’s cold and there are terrible horror movies on tv, my power is at its peak then

1 week ago with 402,724 notes

dannyareyouokay:

"There are more good cops than bad cops"

image

1 week ago with 21,564 notes

koujakuandthediamonds:

the worst is when you’re reading a really good book that follows multiple characters’ stories and you love it 90% of the time until it periodically switches back to that one character’s story that you just could not care less about and it’s like an entire chapter of internal groaning while waiting for the plot to switch back to a character you actually care about

1 week ago with 79,569 notes
You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it.

Robin Williams

Rest in Peace

(via willgrahcm)

1 week ago with 90,621 notes
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