[s4dpngs]

[legate-rikke]

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Red rope burns around her wrists Her blood is cold from heroine's kiss

[foudre]

Lurve, Fall/Winter 2013 Ruby Aldridge by Fanny Latour-Lambert styling by Matthieu Pabiot

[floridakilo]

"And for just a moment I had reached the point of ecstasy that I always wanted to reach, which was the complete step across chronological time into timeless shadows, and wonderment in the bleakness of the mortal realm, and the sensation of death kicking at my heels to move on, with a phantom dogging its own heels, and myself hurrying to a plank where all the angels dove off and flew into the holy void of uncreated emptiness, the potent and inconceivable radiancies shining in bright Mind Essence, innumerable lotus-lands falling open in the magic mothswarm of heaven. I could hear an indescribable seething roar which wasn’t in my ear but everywhere and had nothing to do with sounds. I realized that I had died and been reborn numberless times but just didn’t remember especially because the transitions from life to death and back to life are so ghostly easy, a magical action for naught, like falling asleep and waking up again a million times, the utter casualness and deep ignorance of it. I realized it was only because of the stability of the intrinsic Mind that these ripples of birth and death took place, like the action of wind on a sheet of pure, serene, mirror-like water. I felt sweet, swinging bliss, like a big shot of heroin in the mainline vein; like a gulp of wine late in the afternoon and it makes you shudder; my feet tingled. I thought I was going to die the very next moment. But I didn’t die, and walked four miles and picked up ten long butts and took them back to Marylou’s hotel room and poured their tobacco in my old pipe and lit up."

On the Road, Jack Kerouac

[ofskfe]

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Music from the Jewish People of Uganda

“African-Jewish music in which the rhythms and harmonies of Africa blend with Jewish celebration and traditional Hebrew prayer… rooted in local Ugandan music and infused with rich choral singing. This singular community of African people living committed Jewish lives has survived persecution and isolation and asserts, ‘We have been saved by our music.’” 

[evilrashida]

New work for King Kong Magazine’s America issue out now

Photographed by my bestie Elizabeth De La Piedra

creative direction by ME

Producer @quickweaves

Fashion Daniel Obaweya✨

[circleofshit]

White light from the mouth of infinity

[glassfed]

Kathy Acker, Pussy, King of the Pirates

[rivetgoth]

Kinda sucks that the initial wave of “go outside and talk to real gay people put yourself out there try to overcome some of your social anxieties try new things experience material realities have sex do drugs meet new people” etc style posting was from where I stood being said more so from a place of “you people are genuinely removed from material realities of the issues you’re claiming to care about and this stuff is meaningless if not even dehumanizing and counterproductive to both the larger issues at hand and your own mental health if you’re not forming real empathy with actual human beings in the real world” (at least that was how I know MANY people talked about these things, almost always, at least in my circles, by people who DID grow up “terminally online” with the whole cocktail of mental health and interpersonal issues to match and were really encouraging other people seek out similar healing and maturation through community and connection and putting urself outside of ur comfort zone) and has since been co-opted by frankly… tryhard bullies who are STILL entirely removed from like, critical thinking and nuanced analysis of complex material realities, let alone worrying about themselves and actually healing or growing, and instead have started using “going outside” as this weird punching down coolness/popularity contest, ie. “I actually go outside unlike you losers who watch baby cartoons and care about stupid baby shit.” It’s incredibly lame, speaks very obviously to the fact that you’re NOT truly “going outside” in a way that matters because you wouldn’t feel the need to try to posit yourself as cooler than fucking Steven Universe fans on Tumblr if you were, and it’s consequently led to the very deserved but kind of equally wild to see circular pushback of people once again having to justify their right to like, prefer staying home and reading over having kinky sex on ket in a gay bar (which, for the record, I do not believe a good 90% of the people making these posts, and at least 99% of the people reblogging them, are doing either). Great job guys.

[raveneuse]

Shūji Terayama, Taken from Photothèque Imaginaire de Shūji Terayama: Les Gens de la Famille Chien-Dieu, 1975.

[mynowherenothing]

Ever since I was a little girl I knew I had to focus on my tumblr blog instead of a career

[prettygirl-county-deactivated20]

Diana Ross finishing a rib, 1980s

[draculuvr]

Girl fuck it up mmmMM

[saisons-en-enfer]

I am small but in your arms You are colder in your heart I am worthless in your arms But you offer this protection no one else has given me

[mothercain-deactivated20231124]

(x)

[valsedelesruines]

I held her a long time, even when she struggled to fall back. I realized she’d done it for a mood. She loved me. Also I think we were both frightened later when we’d hold a kiss for 35 minutes until the muscles in our lips would get cramps and it was painful to go on - but somehow we were supposed to do this, and what everybody said, the other kids, Maggie and all the others “necking” at skate and post office parties and on porches after dances had learned this was the thing–and did it in spite of how they felt about it personally–the fear of the world, the children clinging in what they think is a mature, secure kiss (challenging and grown-up)–not understanding joy and personal reverence-It’s only later you learn to lean your head in the lap of God, and rest in love. Some gigantic sexual drive was behind these futile long smooches, sometimes our teeth’d grind, our mouths burn from interchanged spittle, our lips blister, bleed, chap - We were scared. 

- Maggie Cassidy by Jack Kerouac

[antimanifesto1973]

only time seeing drugs get done makes me sad is when jesse is doing them like baby girl u don't need the tina come be my bf

[antimanifesto1973]

actually bring the tina I can fix both of u

[basil-2]

lover lover lover