SAW PARTY

23. I like the stars, fantasy, theatre and most likely, probably, you. EVERYTHING CHANGING ALL THE TIME ALWAYS.

[choped]

[josephwoe]

[gifsboom]

[taylorplease-deactivated2024100]

when your level is too low for the boss fight and they keep landing critical hits

[cnxbdjshehdhdhdh-deactivated201]

this is by far the weirdest vine ever

[feelingsad-doingbad-deactivated]

[flower-merchant-deactivated2016]

Never in my life did I think this post could get any better and yet here I am reblogging it

[josephwoe]

[problematicselfie-deactivated20]

2014 is not a good year to be a teenage girl. The last of the 90’s kids are growing up and we are starting to see the effects of being raised with the Internet. For generations before us, hormonal teenage boys looking for sexy images of women had limited options; they could brave the embarrassment of going to the counter and buying Playboy, they could look through their sister’s Cosmo or they could use their imagination. Porn today has rid itself of the embarrassment-factor by embracing the anonymity of the World Wide Web; Playboy isn’t really considered to be porn anymore, the real stuff lives in your phone, on your laptop, your tablet; it is available anywhere, anytime at the touch of a button. In fact this very website receives a steady stream of hits that result from someone googling some combination of ‘housekeeping porn’ + ‘sex’, ‘lesbian’ and/or ‘rape’. As you read this, somewhere there is an eleven-year-old boy curiously typing ‘porn’ into Google, probably hoping to see some big boobies. Fast forward a couple of years and he is masturbating to a video of a crying woman who is being tied down, simultaneously penetrated by three men, spanked, and being called a whore. Young boys are being de-sensitized to violence and the more they consume, the more abusive, the more graphic the porn has to be to excite them.

Clara Bennathan, Violence, Teenagers, and Gonzo Porn (via nextyearsgirl)

Then article is written by a 17 year old who is really on the ball. It’s short and definitely worth reading the whole thing!

(via snowflakeespecial)

Fuck

(via squidkneee)

[josephwoe]

Drawstring star-map

I was looking for reasons to leave, and now I’m looking for reasons to stay.

Watching stars through my window one blinks brighter than the others. I close one eye and lay still; splitting the light with the drawstring of my blinds. A satellite in the ensemble of the firmament. Moving 248*W following the orders of our system’s director.

[decaykid-deactivated20170618]

These two. ♥

[theoutstv]

[josephwoe]

"I do not trust my eyes.

Forget touch, I want to feel.

Instead of smell, inhale.

Listening is hearing for adults.

Tasting, is just what it is. Ingest me.

As for sight, can it change without adding another layer?

Shutting off such a false sense can do the body good.

I'd rather be a batlon, pray for pay."

[josephwoe]

Add me on Simpsons tapped out wozjoe !

[josephwoe]

No matter the world, You'd be a traveling bard. Oh, so lucky. I have to use my hand as my heart. You! You use your soul. True, the hand is durable, versatile. But the soul is pretty fluid, ain't it?

[comic-view]

He does as he pleases…

[josephwoe]

shaky chair!

When one feels content, why is it unsettling? To be sitting with bills paid, work to be done and relative progress, why do we ask, "What else could I have?" "Have" is purely a summation of a mediocre raise, a pass-time hobby or maybe some love. If the will strikes you, and you have some lingering mind-space and energy, you can always go out there and find it. Or you could always buy it (Well, you'll probably have to buy it once you find it anyway). Maybe instead of looking, one could just build with what one has. And others can come find you if it pleases them.

[josephwoe]

days of DOS

Night's in the city help me regard the parts that aren't human. I'm going to bed, goodnight. Finding my way to the roof to look at nothing/nothing/nothing/nothing. Solitary lights and lonely luminaries. Threading them together, making constellations. Some from stories. Some from texts. Some from printed-perforated banners, of the days of DOS with my dad. I'm making some of them up. I'm making all of this up again. My heart's on city rhythm, but my head suburban pace. Finding myself lost in this orbiting of space. But if all are truly looking at the same thing, then no one can ever be alone.

[josephwoe]

hey look, a cloud.

Found this empty plot. Nothing had grown there for some time. With breath of a djinn, I wished life into the soil. Installed voices of the Bard to help with emboldening this once fertile ground's spirit. Only resting; in hiding if you will. Afraid of that cold that always returns on schedule. Looming overhead were clouds as inviting as a newly made bed on an easy morning. One started by the internal clock. "On Your Own Time." That feeling was sanctuary.

[josephwoe]