(via iamhungrrr)

[after a half-hearted suicide attempt at age 13]

When Daddy comes in, he carries you to bed. Is there anything you feel like you could eat, Pokey? Anything at all?

All you can imagine putting in your mouth is a cold plum, one with really tight skin on the outside but gum-shocking sweetness inside. And he and your mother discuss where he might find some this late in the season. Mother says hell I don’t know. Further north, I’d guess.

The next morning, you wake up in your bed and sit up. Mother says, Pete, I think she’s up. He hollers in, You ready for breakfast, Pokey. Then he comes in grinning, still in his work clothes from the night before. He’s holding a farm bushel. The plums he empties onto the bed river toward you through folds in the quilt. If you stacked them up, they’d fill the deepest bin at the Piggly Wiggly.

Damned if I didn’t get the urge to drive to Arkansas last night, he says.

Your mother stands behind him saying he’s pure USDA crazy.

Fort Smith, Arkansas. Found a roadside stand out there with a feller selling plums. And I says, Buddy, I got a little girl sick back in Texas. She’s got a hanker for plums and ain’t nothing else gonna do.

It’s when you sink your teeth into the plum that you make a promise. The skin is still warm from riding in the sun in Daddy’s truck, and the nectar runs down your chin.

And you snap out of it. Or are snapped out of it. Never again will you lay a hand against yourself, not so long as there are plums to eat and somebody-anybody-who gives enough of a damn to haul them to you. So long as you bear the least nibblet of love for any other creature in this dark world, though in love portions are never stingy. There are no smidgens or pinches, only rolling abundance. That’s how you acquire the resolution for survival that the coming years are about to demand. You don’t earn it. It’s given.

" Mary Karr, “Cherry” (via lifeinpoetry)

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Photographer : Savanna Ruedy 

Stylists: Isaac Sundberg & Lulu Champion 

Models: Brianna & Tyler (Ignite) 

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Adonis Bosso - Public School F/W 13

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The Turban

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Robert Henri: Rough Sea near Lobster Point (1903)

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all the things, and that coat

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"We The People of the Diaspora-Black Culture Exploration" Fashion Illustration Series by Jamilla Okubo (me)




Thank you Tumblr world for all the support and opportunities you have given me! I have reached over 9,000 notes on my "We The People of the Diaspora-Black Culture Exploration" Fashion Illustration Series. 

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

I love you all!. <3

Stay Black. Stay Beautiful. lol

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i have the best taste in clothes im just too poor to prove it

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I don’t understand this “hunty” slang cuz every time I see it I just think y’all talkin to me. My name is Hunter. Don’t use my ratchet nicknames as your weird slang please.