Chasca @anorionnebula - Tumblr Blog

I need my freedom. I need to be alone. I need to ponder my shame and my despair in seclusion; I need […] the paving stones of the streets without companions, without conversation, face to face with myself, with only the music of my heart for company. What do you want of me? When I have something to say, I put it in print. When I have something to give, I give it. Your prying curiosity turns my stomach! Your compliments humiliate me! I owe nothing to any one.

Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer (via mightmaey)

babebllue-deactivated20160508

This is a rescued owl named Zeus, he is blind but his eyes hold the universe

arthaproject-blog

babyzuko

The deeply worrying thing about catcalling is that the catcaller must know that their target isn’t going to turn around and fall in to their arms pleading ‘oh dear my please have sex with me here and now’. A lot of the time they know that. Often they don’t do it for that, someone who shouts ‘nice tits’ from a van isn’t trying to date you. They’re trying to humiliate you, reinforce their dominance over you; it’s an exercise of male power. It’s a way of communicating ‘I can say and do whatever I want to you, no matter how inappropriate or how uncomfortable it makes you feel, and you can’t do anything about it.’ Catcalling is not a compliment, it’s a threat.