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Today's Document
One Nice Bug Per Day
Cosimo Galluzzi
d e v o n
KIROKAZE
sheepfilms
DEAR READER
dirt enthusiast
Peter Solarz
art blog(derogatory)
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

tannertan36
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

izzy's playlists!

Love Begins
Show & Tell
almost home
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

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@andywhorehol
I'm literally begging you, please be weird and queer, online and offline if you can, I want you to live life being as fascinating as possible
you'll only be alive for so long, please spend some time being odd
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Emerson in His Journals
I don't want to go to church.
But I want to hear my footsteps echoing from the cool stone of a chapel floor up to its shrouded ramparts.
I don't believe in God.
But I believe that there is power in poor girls and young moms feeling loved when there is a statue of Mary nearby. She's like them.
I don't want to go to confession.
But I want to sit in a tiny, dark box. Enveloped with the smell of smoke and oil. To revel in quiet and shame.
I don't think the sign of the cross will lead to any intercession from the lord. I do not connect the work of my hands with his.
But I will paint my face and chest with my hands as an ambulance screeches by, rushing to a soul in danger and pain. The movement is a prayer with no destination; that a crying stranger will remain whole.
Catholic ritual is the language in which I learned passion. It is the tongue of my mother and my grandmother, draped in rosaries that they touched over lifetimes. I can learn new movements and new, more accurate expressions of my heart. New ways that don't echo the pain and brutality of the Catholic Church and the god I despise. But they are not burned into my skin and blood vessels the same way; searing despite the coolness of baptismal water.
I think I will forever be haunted by the faithless, hateful god I left behind.
Mosab Abu Toha, from Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear
wait! before you go, let me give you the Cowboy's Goodbye *kisses you passionately. with tongue.*
BOSTON, UNITED STATES.
“Riders of the Golden Sky” by Mark Maggiori | oil on linen
30 seconds in - 30C
turn of the century photo, Sofia Coppola photographed by Jurgen Teller, 2000
an appalachian environmental magazine i follow is calling for writing submissions from specifically indigenous people in southern appalachia and the broader southeast. the theme is indigineity, but the magazine covers ecology and climate change. there is no fee for submission. i am not indigenous, but i frequently see indigenous people sharing interesting perspectives regarding environmental science here on tumblr, so I thought i would share the link here.
Sergey Andreyaka - New year night 1984
i just wanna say your post a while back about how after you lost your virginity he showed you his favorite bible verses made me cry. that same thing happened to me. i'm from arkansas but something about that hit so close to home and just perfectly encapsulated what home is to me in such an odd way. living in a conservative religious part of america is something i've wrestled with a lot of my life but it's home and that's never changing. your page is so beautiful to me. thank you.
Josh. Ahh fucking joshes man. The first guy I ever had a crush on was named Josh. Then, flash forward through all the panic and misery that comes with realizing you're a boy that likes boys and somehow, in some poetic stupid way, the first guy I ever slept with was named Josh. Now, honestly in retrospect, I wish I could've gotten to know him more. It was so weird dude. One minute we got down to business and then the next he was reading me his favorite Bible verses. Maybe as a way to deal with the sins of being gay. Idk. Still I'm glad it was with him. I hope he's accepted himself and is living a much more free and happier life than before. Sorry I made you cry. Still, I'm glad I was able to make you realize that your experiences aren't solitary. Many of us go through that shit as well. It's necessary, you know? You spend a solid amount of time wondering if perhaps your experiences parallel others like yourself only to realize its just not really vocalized. Indiana has my heart man, but it also has so many of my most vulnerable and self-discovered moments. I hope you're being kind to yourself man and I hope you feel a little less alone. Thanks for reaching out.
need to go thru an intense weird sort of religious phase again
the resurrection account is full of fearful, trembling men and women. full of doubt, weak of faith. fear in the garden, fear at the cross, fear at the tomb, fear at the resurrection, fear even in the face of the greatest of news.
jesus loves well his fearful, doubting saints. he comforts them, he thinks of them, he cares for them, he cooks for them, he greets them by name.
THANK YOU. People say “Doubting Thomas” like it’s an insult but I always read that passage wondering what they’re seeing because… Jesus literally is just like “ok, sure, buddy: here’s the proof. Take as long as you need. Yeah. Yeah, it’s me. Hi.”
And THEN he says “You believe because you see; happy are those who believe yet do not see” like yeah! Some people don’t need hard proof! Life’s easy and happy for them! And their faith is valuable… but he still sees his frightened, confused friend Thomas, and lets him put his fingers deep in the wounds in his side and hands, and offers him an intimate, painful, bloody certainty.
You’re so right, op, you’re so right. In the garden, at Emmaus, in the locked room, all it is is love.