lma pls

[. @mithkii]

I have no opps, there are no monitoring spirits, many wish me well and many are indifferent to me. I’m a normal woman.

[J @gminiluvv]

And they say romance is dead

[victoria ♀️ @fatfabfeminist]

the way her irl husband is even better than wattpad harry styles

[Botlhale M. 💕 @Mashishi_B]

Being a man is nice because no matter how ugly your past and present is there is a woman out there who thinks she is exclusively protected from your BS. Must be nice. 🥺🤍

[sofie ☭ @darlingube]

you can go vegan, boycott AI, fast fashion, and plastic and only take the bus for the rest of your life and the US military will undo it all in like 30 minutes because they want Venezuela's oil

[Globethotter 🌍 @BrianMcLight]

👇🏽

[死 @humanxmaybe]

i come from a long line of people with something wrong with them

[miya @miyarah_]

como quiero ser tratada después de estar todo el día de mal humor

[Nicholas Fabiano, MD @NTFabiano]

Repetitive negative thinking is associated with cognitive decline.

Stay positive.

[basith @basithladoo]

to do list:
bite the hand that feeds me
put all my eggs in one basket
kill two birds with one stone
let the cat out of the bag
think inside the box
burn bridges
walk on thin ice
play with fire

[😠🍭 Do The Roar @little__f0ot]

This looks like a disguise Raven Baxter would put on 😂

[pris @pwiscila]

Sending everyone vague prophetic messages and then disappearing for a month

[. @VellBenjiii]

Dating older or younger don’t even matter nomore everybody stupid

[Bound ☉・ @Nearbound]

Sunday Blues,

[maya @mayareminders]

people hate when you don’t measure your worth by the same status symbols they worship

[Ty Ngachira @anto_ty]

When Tyla said she is not Black but Coloured, she was not speaking into the American conversation about race at all. She was speaking in the language of her own country, shaped by its own history. Yet her words detonated in America as though they had been aimed there. This is what happens when a nation has spent a century convincing the world that its definitions are the only ones that matter.

America’s greatest export has never been war. It has never been democracy. It has never been freedom. America’s greatest export is the dream of itself.

It is not that the films are inherently better. It is not that the music contains some mystical note absent elsewhere. What America has, and what it has always had, is money, reach, and a machinery built to make its image the centre of the world.

This was not accidental. It was policy. It was the soft arm of empire. To project yourself outward until your face is the first one people recognise in the mirror.

And so the American way of life became the default. Other cultures were filed into two neat drawers: savage if they challenged the story, exotic if they could be sold back to you.

If you are Black, your first cinematic self was likely African American, the rapper, the sitcom character, the hero of a Spike Lee joint. If you are white in Europe or Australia, it was the white faces of American sitcoms and stadium tours. Whoever you were, your first image of yourself came with an American accent.

Over time, Americans began to believe the story they had written. When you grow up in the country that built itself into the cultural Mecca, it is easy to think you are the best simply because you are on top. You forget, or never know, that the game was fixed long before you played it.

But the monopoly is breaking. Nigeria’s Nollywood now speaks across oceans. South Korean dramas leap borders. India’s Bollywood never needed permission to fill theatres. Spanish thrillers keep strangers awake at night. Slumdog Millionaire, Squid Game, Money Heist, Shōgun — all aimed partly at the American market because that is where the money is, but no longer about America.

And here is the thing. Black Americans, who fought to be seen in their own country, became the global face of Blackness. That is a remarkable achievement. It was also made possible by the same system that excluded everyone else. Now Africans, Caribbeans, and Afro-Latins tell their own stories without making room for American centrality, and the absence is noticed.

We grew up watching you. You did not grow up watching us. And now the internet has levelled the ground just enough for others to speak without hesitation. Tyla’s words land differently because the world no longer accepts America as the only arbiter of meaning.

America’s greatest export was never its art. It was the power to decide which art, and which identities, the world would see. That power is no longer yours alone. There is both justice and loss in that.