hello, welcome to my blog. My name is Dante, I like trans people and having gay sex. I hate cops, and politicians, and states, and borders.
dms and asks are open, anons allowed, send me your secrets.

Andulka
Not today Justin
KIROKAZE

#extradirty
Today's Document
Mike Driver
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Sade Olutola

titsay
ojovivo

PR's Tumblrdome

JVL
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

shark vs the universe

bliss lane

Love Begins
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Noah Kahan
Claire Keane
taylor price
seen from France

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seen from Belgium
seen from South Africa

seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from Greece

seen from Ukraine
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seen from United States

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seen from United States
@fulltransmetalgenderist
hello, welcome to my blog. My name is Dante, I like trans people and having gay sex. I hate cops, and politicians, and states, and borders.
dms and asks are open, anons allowed, send me your secrets.
please dont vape your blueberry ice flavor around my kid. we are raising him on marlboro reds exclusively.
this was her manifesting pinkpantheress
Lowkey I bet it felt good as fuuuuuuck to be one of the coal miners that got to blow a pinkertons brains out from a high ridge with a bolt action rifle.
André Carlos
Natalia Motuzko - The Voice of Grass (1992)
Someone has been slowly over the last few months making an avant garde art installation out of an abandoned Boston Market/Checkers. Their signboard messages keep getting torn down so their latest move was to make a flag of a photo of their previous masterpiece "PENIS WIGS FOR SAL" and run it up the flag pole
what if I got some land in the city and i planted a garden and grew food and fed the people I love and even the people i don't love
so many paths so many ways
in another lifetime i would still feel young and full of possibility
but the future is bleak, and the ways of my world appear to be collapsing into themselves as the forged layers of a knife beneath the hammer
i sense a singularity at the end of the path forward and the event horizon has become upon us
something is set in motion, some terrible machination that thrusts us only towards a compressed singular fate
how long do I have, to choose between a garden or another ivory tower or passport stamps or subway rides or needles beneath my skin or a dick in my pants or a messy breakup or a marriage or an affair or another dog or an unexpected child or an expected child or sorrow or denial or anger and fury that burns me all up?
i want it all I want everything I want the whole garden and to roll in the soil naked until I am nearly covered and and I am just a pair of eyes staring into the stars above and the earthworms writhe between my teeth and i am smiling and stinking and rotting and becoming
but what if there are no earthworms and there is no topsoil because it all blew away because the roots of the earth have been wrenched from the ground and there is nothing to hold it all together
and I am locked away from the earth and i lay at it's gates unchanging , becoming gaunt and anemic and gray and drained
waiting for the day that the wind might finally grind my bones away into dust so that I might float back to the garden
or maybe a different one
and rejoin the earthworms
"why do you keep calling things you find beautiful, inexplicable, and unsettling angels" i'm just doing what british wartime radar technicians did first
it was birds btw
↑ angel