Haters, we love you @leo-withani - Tumblr Blog

Pronouncing the “E” at the end of “Testosterone” makes it sound like a pasta.

Come get y’all’s transgetti

So, I was going to kill myself. Then I decided to stop being a little bitch and just go to the gym because I’m never gonna get shredded by laying in bed all day, wishing I was dead. So now the goal is to lift six days a week and run three miles on my rest days. So like, fuck depression.

modernauta

SOCIAL & POLITICAL GRAFFITI IN THE UK (10 Pics)

‘Black is Beautiful’ Moss Side, Manchester, 1969. Photo © Michael Ward

‘No Nazis in Bradford’, 1970s. Photo © Don McCullin

‘Eat The Rich’ Notting Hill, 1977. Photo © Roger Perry

Dalston, 1978. Photo © Alan Denney.

‘I Fought The Law’ Ladbroke Grove, London, 1977. Photo © Roger Perry

Notting Hill Gate, 1974. Photo © Roger Perry

‘Dada Is Everywhere’ Malden Road, Kentish Town, 1974. Photo © Roger Perry

‘Strike A Body Blow to Capatalism’ Kings Cross, London, late 1970s. Photo © Roger Perry

Clapton, North East London. Photo © Roger Perry

Chalk Farm, Camden, 1975. Photo © Roger Perry.

I’m not sure how many people are still on tumblr. Every time I come here it feels like a barren wasteland.

brittany-snow

K.I.

I consider deleting my account at least once a month. It feels hollow and abandoned, a house with boarded windows and a front door barely hanging on the hinges. Brown fence posts splintering at their crescent tops after years of weathering from the rain. I don’t know what I’m saying. It was the place where I’d come to hide, but now I’m out in the open.

I’ve been loud for a long time, and it has cost me a lot. For once, I want to hide again. It’s possible to express genuine emotion despite being influenced by the approval of others, and other factors like wealth and the market, but it’s like dressage. Even the way I express myself here is performative, but I believe it to be more authentic because there’s less speculation. Less fear. Even still, I haven’t said what I came here to say because I don’t know who will read this, if anyone. Fear can still touch me here. Fear can touch me in a journal.

No thought communicated is safe.

I am aching.

And for all the wrong reasons.

I’ve been listening to the same song for hours ever since I started driving home.

#Personal