I'm at the old world dying, I'm at the new world struggling to be born, I'm at the combination old world dying and new world struggling to be born
Sade Olutola
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

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Monterey Bay Aquarium
Claire Keane
Xuebing Du
Misplaced Lens Cap

titsay
Game of Thrones Daily
sheepfilms
Today's Document
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
tumblr dot com
ojovivo
occasionally subtle
$LAYYYTER
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

oozey mess

No title available
almost home

seen from United States
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@kaylacrush
I'm at the old world dying, I'm at the new world struggling to be born, I'm at the combination old world dying and new world struggling to be born
Victory of the Sea (Jan Saudek, 1992)
Get your reblogs in while you can bc I'm about to turn them off
"i just don't like masculine women" literally i'm so sorry for you loss. i hope you get well soon
the death of a girl literally named blessing in one of the cities that's supposed to be safe for us is the kind of cruel joke that an editor would underline in red. i wish i knew more of us when we were alive.
buy a trans woman a pizza on the 31st you cowards. mira we miss you deeply
I love this post especially the rat part
going on me feed
what do you mean there are exactly zero rats i. this post
Someone laid a perfectly smooth pristine egg in the middle of the moshpit tonight and we just kept circling it
I was talking to a monogamous but supportive person recently, and I caught myself several times about to say something so deeply personal that wasn't actually called for at all by what they asked.
I wanted to say "it hurt so much that people wouldn't let me pursue things. It hurt so much to know that someone I loved would deliberately and systematically deny me a source of joy."
I even wanted to say "If I'm being honest I still can't in my heart of hearts make myself understand that perspective. If I'm being honest a part of me I never let hold the microphone still finds that unspeakably cruel."
I had to stop myself from gripping their shoulders and shouting "We just want to love! We just want to love and we are called unnatural and cheaters and dangerous! What is so dangerous, so wrong, so abhorrent about loving more?!"
I wanted to beg them to see. To not just ✨be chill😎✨ but to really get it. To agree that I am not the one who got it backwards.
Instead I just said "Yeah, consent is what matters. Very few people would consider having a threesome cheating even though, technically, you are sleeping with someone else. Its about knowing and being okay with it way more than it is a specific act." Because that's all they needed to hear. Because they were trying to better their understanding, and did not deserve having to pick up the pieces of a heart that was with every tenderness shattered by someone else so many years ago.
So I guess I'm making this post instead, I guess.
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.
yes I DO live under a rock and her name is the Moon and she is always smiling but she teaches me nothing
at least there’s fucking friends. at least there’s people who love you in this godforsaken world
most weapons forged against me will in fact prosper but please don’t do any of that and instead be nice to me
libraries arent punk rock. nothing is punk rock. punk rock is a lie propagated by the punks to sell more rocks
they should invent a disproportionate emotional response that goes away when you rationally understand the cause
Yeah man, this wizard sleepover is cozy. I just saw a guy gently clap his hands together and say "hot beverage conjuration" or something, and suddenly everyone was holding a perfect mug of their favorite warm drink in their hands. Nobody who was already sleeping even woke up, that's how cozy it is. I'm over here casting pillow and level 2 pyjamas. I think I just heard "power word: blanket fort" two groups over. I gotta get in there.
via the magic of HRT it is now possible to choose which one of your parents you will inevitably turn into