dodeka @dodeka-blog - Tumblr Blog

callout post for myself

- never sleeps when I need to - cries at anything - fakes positivity - spends money impulsively - requires constant validation - clumsy, can’t go a day without spilling something - laughs at own unfunny jokes

jewlsies

tomorrow might be the best tuesday of ur entire life and i think that is a good thing to remember

niacinamides-deactivated2020010

im sick of edgy sad-core aesthetic, with the cigarettes and emotional distance and cold voids in ur heart. boring!! bring back passion and romance. what’s in this season?? red roses, making out with greek statues, champagne, velvet, cheek caresses, lambs, light sparkling on the water, the naked human form, the Moon as a lover, eloquent declarations of love, indulgence; Sex as Art!!

batou

Since God is not helping me @Devil wyd….

rachelfershleiser

I saw an image online and thought how interesting it is that many painting throughout Western art history are called The Conversation or Two People Flirting or The Couple. You’re clearly meant to see this as a pleasant interaction, but the look on the woman’s face is so clearly, “Someone, please, for the love of God, get me out of here. I wish I were dead.” I don’t want to make sweeping generalisations, but I love the idea that basically for 600 years of Western European art, male artists were thinking, ‘That’s the look women always have on their face when you talk to them. That’s not boredom, that’s just their listening face.’

Mallory Ortberg: ‘If men show up that’s great, but we don’t need them’ | Books | The Guardian (via the-eastern)

mazzystardust

Chloe SS98

allmymetaphors

Life’s ironies irritate my afternoon hours like wool. One, I’m in a foreign country in my own head; two, I’m sometimes lonely living with two women; three, people are having sex in shop windows but we haven’t made love in weeks; four, the more Alexis smokes, the better her singing voice; the more I clean up, the more I feel like Alexis’ ashtray; the more I read, the more I lose my place. Unsettled, I get hungry, and remember pears and young Gouda in the refrigerator. I throw down my books. Ironically, given their status as objects, the red pear and the pale cheese are breathing furiously, inhabiting the world I left. All told, the pear is a great relief, luxuriating on a plate as blue as the Dutch flag, with the pungent Gouda such a pure moment of pale yellow!

“Life’s Ironies;” Jane Miller (via allmymetaphors)