emily

silly ramblings of a caffeinated mind

[maviyenot]

[heateron]

clueless (1995) dir. amy heckerling

[heateron]

david bowie, 1976.

[lookforher]

[piratecaptainraven]

art institute of chicago link

[ID: artwork by artist and activist David Wojnarowicz featuring a gelatin silver print with silkscreen text. The background image is in black and white and features a mass grave full of skeletons lying down in various erratic positions. Two of the skeletons are lying on top of each other. The superimposed text, written in red, reads:

When I put my hands on your body on your flesh I feel the history of that body. Not just the beginning of its forming in that distant lake but all the way beyond its ending. I feel the warmth and texture and simultaneously I see the flesh unwrap from the layers of fat and disappear. I see the fat disappear from the muscle. I see the muscle disappearing from around the organs and detaching iself from the bones. I see the organs gradually fade into transparency leaving a gleaming skeleton gleaming like ivory that slowly resolves until it becomes dust. I am consumed in the sense of your weight, the way your flesh occupies momentary space the fullness of it beneath my palms. I am amazed at how perfectly your body fits to the curves of my hands. If I could attach our blood vessels so we could become each other I would. If I could attach our blood vessels in order to anchor you to the earth to this present time I would. If I could open up your body and slip inside your skin and look out your eyes and forever have my lips fused with yours I would. It makes me weep to feel the history of your flesh beneath my hands in a time of so much loss. It makes me weep to feel the movement of your flesh beneath my palms as you twist and turn over to one side to create a series of gestures to reach up around my neck to draw me nearer. All these memories will be lost in time like tears in the rain.[/end ID]

[eucanthos]

David Wojnarowicz   (US, 1954 - 1992)

_

Untitled (Sometimes I Come to Hate People), 1992. Silver print with silkscreened text 97.16 × 66.4 cm (38 ½ × 26 in.) The Art Institute of Chicago

https://www.artic.edu/artworks/253790/untitled-sometimes-i-come-to-hate-people

[hiyutekivigil]

excerpt from In Memoriam by David Wojnarowicz, Day Without Art, 1989

All The Beauty And The Bloodshed, 2022

[creepycrawl1es]

okay the thing with tumblr is that I used to be completely obsessed with it when I was like 14 or 13. now that I am 23 I just come here maybe once a year repost too many pics a little obsessively and then dissappear into obscurity

[creepycrawl1es]

I miss this era of the Internet where ads were few and between

[creepycrawl1es]

долистала до своей кринж эры когда я думала что я писательница. ужасно.

[wulfhalls]

Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship  Enterprise. Her ongoing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek  out new life-forms and new civilizations; to boldly go where no one has  gone before.

star trek 2009 dir. j.j. abrams

[tiredandlonelymuse]

“A man who dominates is a man who does not love. He has a tremendous animal vitality, a force, which conquers. He conquers, people are subjected by him, but he neither loves nor understands. He is just a force and he is filled with his own strength. If he loves at all, it is a force like his own, and so again he loves his own kind of strength, not the other, which is an infiltration. Watch the conqueror well, watch the man or woman who dominates another: he is not the one who loves. The one who loves is the one who is dominated. You love me, and so you cannot dominate me, and I being a woman sought domination. But it is all over now. I see it as an impersonal force, an animal force, which no longer has power over me.”

-A Letter From Anaïs Nin to Henry Miller, Excerpt From “A Literate Passion”.

[tiredandlonelymuse]

I do not find peace in my melancholy.

My sadness is not serene.

I am bloodthirsty.

[creepycrawl1es]

In the wake of my destruction

I sip on my coffee,

watching my reflection on the screen and thinking:

Well, this is it;

This will stay for life.

[creepycrawl1es]

twitter might die today so here we are

[creativespark]

Stanley Stellar, His, His Also, Gay Pride Day NYC, 1980

[creepycrawl1es]

i dunno maybe i am falling in love, everything is so fucking confusing (everything about being human lol).... Anyway, I am writing poems now,  you wouldn’t really call them poems, but I feel so much for someone I want to turn these feelings into a poem and isn’t that fucked up? wow