Half Man (2026)
sheepfilms
noise dept.
cherry valley forever
Peter Solarz

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Xuebing Du

#extradirty
todays bird
trying on a metaphor
Jules of Nature
Mike Driver
One Nice Bug Per Day
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

blake kathryn

@theartofmadeline
Cosimo Galluzzi

PR's Tumblrdome
ojovivo

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@keepthelemons
Half Man (2026)
"You know what's harder than Getting Better? Living Like That" is just the thesis for my whole shit going on right now honestly. You know what's harder than doing my physical therapy? Hurting All The Time. You know what's harder than addressing my gender dysphoria? Hurting All The Time
I'm Doing The Hard Thing and it's *easier* than how I was living before. If you make yourself feel better you will have more energy to spend on Getting Better. Nice inch nails - the upward spiral. Crawl out of your grave Thursday
actually, that sex scene is load-bearing
you ever just sit and realise u can’t remember 80% of your childhood? like … what happened? who am i ..?
Many people in the comments are saying “trauma”, but this is actually a very normal occurrence. It’s called Childhood Amnesia, and it’s a process which, as the brain reorganizes itself for cognitive thought that is developed in late childhood, it changes the Accessibility of those memories during recall. Many childhood memories are available to the person, but they will not be remembered during regular recall activity, you have to “trick” your brain into remembering with different tactics.
This is because there are two parts to memories - their encoding and their recall. The encoding determines their availability, their recall determines their accessibility. The reason why trauma memory and childhood amnesia are different is in this distinction. Trauma memory is often encoded differently, bypassing to the limbic system where it is stored as intrinsic memory. It can’t be recalled because it was never encoded. Childhood amnesia, however, seems to indicate that the memories are encoded, but we lose access to them as we age. This is most likely due to the development of brain structures that fundamentally change our encoding and recall of memory as we get older.
This is an important distinction, because trauma memory is “stored in the body”, i.e. you get triggers that send your body into a cascade of uncontrollable feelings, sensations and reactions. Whereas childhood memories won’t generally do that, they are just recalled at odd times with odd associations.
reblogging this because I’ve legit seen people freaking out when they realised they can’t remember some of their childhood, thinking they might have some repressed trauma.
random anecdote for father's day: one time during a long car ride my dad asked me, "you're familiar with Murphy's Law, right?" and i was like "isn't that the one about how anything that can go wrong will go wrong?" and he said "yeah, exactly" and i said "why do you ask?" and he went "well, have you heard of Cole's Law?" and i said "no, actually, what's that?" and he said "it's mostly lettuce and carrots with a little dressing mixed in"
Yeah, it's time to get this post out again
thinking about edvard munch's "The Sun" (1911)
like yeah thats how it feels. thats what it feels like to exist sometimes. he gets it
getting a good grade in girl talk
I learned a very long time ago that I could post in English on the Anglo internet about my experience as a sexual minority in the #middleeastandnorthafrica region. I could vent about every slight or slur, every indiscretion, all the doors that might not have closed in my face had I not been who I am. But that all it would do is earn me a seat at a table half the world away, a seat that I would lose the second I said “but my people are still human. But we are Arab women before we are queer women. But we are muslim before we are trans women. But we are imperialised subjects of the periphery before we are bisexuals. But we are ‘combat-aged males’ before we are gay men and boys.” A seat that I could only keep if I show a willingness to betray my people. And I will not. I do not want it. The price is too steep and the value too low.
I have come to know now that this western voraciousness for our stories was never an impulse born out of empathy; it has always been little more than a gathering of intel, of reasons to hate us and to justify the destruction of our bodies and the pillaging of our lands and the looting of our resources. So I no longer see the utility in being one more primary source for the proverbial NYT opinion editorial manufacturing consent for the latest campaign of imperial slaughter in my backyard on account of our inherent backwardness.
men will do literally anything other than engaging in pro-social community-oriented behavior and then get online and complain about how masculinity is vilified and men aren't allowed to be heroes anymore
"all men really want is to feel like the hero" okay then volunteer at a food bank. get narcan training. step in when a woman is being harassed on the street. help out an elderly neighbor with shopping or home repairs. learn how to safely de-escalate fights. help your friends move. join or start your workplace union. become a big brother or volunteer coach for kids' sports. clean up your local park or get involved in some local conservation campaign. do your own damn dishes. notice what needs to be done and then do it. the world doesn't need heroes, it needs helpers. there are literally so many paths to finding a sense of self-respect and worth through pro-social behaviors that improve your immediate local community and help build your network of close personal connections. but these guys don't give a shit about actually contributing anything to the world. they just want to whine and fantasize.
their inherent lack of self-respect is belied not only by the fact that they can't imagine doing anything that contributes to building a better, more resilient society, but how they can't imagine that doing so might involve a lot of small acts and choices and not one big act of heroism that gets them on the news as Big Man Of The Year.
I think it’s normal for people to be mad at each other sometimes even if they’re close friends or family or intimate with each other. Like I think that’s a normal and healthy part of relationships that can happen sometimes
“Why were you on Mad At Me island” because at the time I was mad at you and yet our friendship has weathered that without trouble
I went to Mad At You island because my feelings are my problem. I needed to stomp down the beach until I could sit and watch the sunrise. I built a sandcastle and did some thinking. Then I boarded the good ship You Matter To Me and sailed it all the way to meet you on the Let’s Talk Shore of I Love You Island.
Myha’la photographed by Takahiro Ogawa for Tidal Magazine (2026)
surely the conses wont quence
peer reviewed
“bend over” “bend what? over”
I hate this place
free the nipple has to make a resurgence for a number of reasons but bro look at our upcoming eternity of wet bulb temps youre smoking straight up cock if you think im keeping a shirt on when it hits 105° in new england
everyone tits out with a parasol is such a beautiful world to imagine that the fact it doesnt currently exist fills me with equal parts fire and misery