You're obsessed with the rotting bloated corpse. It's like your Jungkook. Embarassing!
YOU ARE THE REASON

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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roma★

izzy's playlists!
One Nice Bug Per Day
taylor price
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
trying on a metaphor
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Discoholic 🪩
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@theartofmadeline

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@fxzhao
You're obsessed with the rotting bloated corpse. It's like your Jungkook. Embarassing!
when u go to a restaraunt regularly and order the same thing every time
Sie transvestigaten meinen ikea hotdog…
well when all else fails at least there’s daydreaming about your oc getting tortured and abused and experimented on and assaulted and dehumanized and torn apart and surgically modified and
the tonally dissonant longposter
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Prompt List Transcript
Graphics made by Scribedhearts, illustration made by Woime!
Have a great March!!!
i know gender and sexuality arent exactly the same but “i could survive being with a man” is comphet. “i could survive living as a man” sounds much the same. you’re not meant to live in survival mode. it sounds like you do *need* to transition
That’s… fair
with 2+ years of hindsight (and almost 10 months of HRT), I want to thank this anon, because I think genuinely this played a significant role in helping me to start transitioning.
I've been so much happier since then, and especially since starting HRT. Yeah, there are new struggles and anxieties and problems to adapt to, but I'm also learning how to enjoy life and find myself and love myself, and it's definitely worth it.
Over the past year I've laughed and cried and been able to look at myself in the mirror and selfies and enjoy what I look like. I've felt more comfortable with my body, and worn outfits and accessories that I've been daydreaming about for over a decade. I've felt pretty, which was not something that I thought was possible.
If you're on the fence about transitioning, please know that it's enough to chase joy. If you think you'd be happier, that's enough. You don't have to have known since you were a toddler. You don't have to be so depressed that you can't bear another day as your AGAB. You don't have to "earn" or "deserve" to transition. It's enough to want it.
i can’t stop thinking about the time my roommate and i asked our insanely ripped neighbor brian who wore flip flops year round and sunglasses on the back of his head for help with carrying a solid wood dresser up to our apartment. he wanted to get his son who was home from college to come help too so he takes out his phone and goes, “siri, call christian christianson” and turns speaker phone on while we stand there sort of stunned by the name and after a few rings cc answers, “what the hell do you want” and brian just hangs up without responding and is all, “kids, am i right” then carries the dresser up four flights of stairs pretty much by himself. we offered him a six pack of rainier as thanks which he immediately opened in our kitchen and downed 2/6 beers in 10 mins while telling us about his 1989 dodge ram 1500 he was trying to get his son to restore with him to no avail. really nice guy. we never saw his son before he went back to school but any time i ask my roommate for help with lifting stuff or reaching something he says, “siri, call christian christianson” and we reminisce about brian and his truck.
The straight woman is unsatisfied with straight studio porn. She wants to get off to something in which the actors actually emote and show passion beyond canned moans from the women and, at best, vacant grunts from the men. She turns to gay porn. She knows it's not "for her," but neither was the straight porn, and at least the actors look like they're enjoying themselves. And for a short while she is satiated by Sean Cody et al, but she runs into the same problems she had to begin with. She was not looking at sex but a simulacrum of sex, trapped in Plato's cave. Unsatisfied, she turned to vintage gay porn, harkening to a time when most gay bars still had darkrooms and reliably smelled of piss and Amyl Nitrite. Here was the real thing, in all its animalistic passion. But she still couldn't immerse herself in the fantasy. She wanted the media to engage with her own imagination and meet her half-way, rather than having it spoonfed to her onscreen. She turned to yaoi, with its elongated figures reminiscent of mannerist portraiture, then bara, including hardcore BDSM scenes. But the tactile sensations depicted in the pages didn't do justice to their real life counterparts. She turned deeper into her own imagination, this time reading erotica. No, not the poolside paperbacks sold at Barnes and Noble. The good shit. Why then, was she still not satisfied? She dug deeper, searching for the true meaning of eroticism. She studied the psychoanalysis of Freud, the cultural criticism of Susan Sontag the feminist poetry of Audre Lorde. She took vacation time and flew to Europe, starting at the caves of Lascaux to explore the human urge to create, then traversed the Camino de Santiago on foot, along the way meeting a 56 year old carpenter from Burgos named Andrés, with whom she had an explosive affair. They both knew it couldn't last, which made them cherish each other's touch all the more. Upon flying home, she gave up. If her search for true eroticism never bore fruit this whole time, why would it now? It would take years before she stumbled upon the answer by pure happenstance: dubstep.
[pushing my glasses up with an air of unwarranted superiority and gesturing toward a painting without a minotaur] the Minotaur is implied.
self-care phrases to boost your confidence
this shit ain't nothin to me man
I'll fucking kill you
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person who wears pads: i prefer wearing pads person who wears tampons: how can you walk around all day wearing a wet diaper full of blood that's so gross i could never! paul mccartney: john lennon wasn’t gay because if he wanted to have sex with men he would’ve had sex with me
I firmly believe that all identities are relational and formed through partaking in certain sets of actions. I also think when you’re isolated it’s very easy to lose track of who You are. I think this is why so many lonely/isolated people end up obsessing over labels and label discourse. it’s one of the only processes of identity formation you can partake in by yourself, in your bedroom. this is not meant as a value judgement, just as an observation as someone who was that lonely label-obsessed kid in the past
i stole this screenshot from instagram idk why its radioactive but this is what tumblr is like
i need (abruptly stops talking & stares at some random fixed point with a vacant expression)
crazy thang is whenever someone makes a post talkng about how xyz thing annoys them someone will always go 'oh so we're not even allowed to do [thing] anymore??' like no you literally can. that person just will not like you. if that is enough to stop you then its not that youre not allowed its that you are not capable of existing outside of the approval of others
why are you asking for permission. begging? are you a dog or a man
there it is