Today's Document
if i look back, i am lost
ellievsbear
Origami Around
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Peter Solarz
No title available
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
shark vs the universe
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
almost home
NASA
EXPECTATIONS
Kiana Khansmith
Jules of Nature
Sade Olutola
occasionally subtle
Claire Keane
blake kathryn
seen from Morocco
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@mymarrowislow
Flyssa Sword
Dated: 19th century
Culture: Kabyles people of Morocco
The sword has a straight blade, slightly enlarged on the second third. The back and the sides are richly engraved, chiselled and inlaid in brass with geometrical motifs. The weapon has an octagonal grip partly made of iron (the base) and partly made of brass. It is engraved on the whole surface and with the typical grip shaped as a stylised animal’s head.
Source: Copyright © 2016 Live Auctioneers
I aggravated the shit out of my rotator cuff somehow (probably clean and press but who knows), and I have to say that this pain is kind of... awesome? It aches in a way that's weirdly satisfying and when I massage it, it hurts like a bitch but it also feels so, so good. Also I'm using this weird roll-y thing to massage it, it's these two connected matte black spheres and everyone who sees it thinks it's some kind of weird sex toy that they've never seen before and I'm like well kinda? In a way? I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm no longer a dad, I'm now a health-goth pain slut. Please support me as I undergo this personal awakening.
It's been a long time since I had to date anyone, or worry about who is or is not attracted to me. This is legit the best thing about being married, btw. You just walk into a party and you're like "is there food at this party? What is the drink sitch?Is there a funny person that I can stand next to and get slightly drunk with?" All that anxiety, all that self consciousness, all that scanning the room constantly to see who might be out there and looking back at you, it just poofs out of existence at some point. I do still think about the whole thing, though. Like I was thinking today about how it's weird that my wife does not seem to care about my body, like, at all. Maybe if I had TOO much of a dad bod she would be less attracted to me, but the fact that I'm muscular or whatever really never seems to have registered in the slightest. And looking back I feel like that was true of every woman I dated? Like none of them gave a shit at all? Contrast with the dudes that I dated who were very, very verbal about my body. Which was nice! It made me feel good about myself. And you can feel that desire from dudes, that objectifying desire. Which is a double edged sword sure but the upside of being treated like an object is it becomes very easy to lose yourself during sex. You can just go a bit blank and be mindless, partialized, used. Not always the healthiest thing in the world but if you're constantly wracked with self doubt it's an escape. Not to complain. There's ways of losing yourself during sex with women. But it is interesting that, at least for the women I've dated, this was not a genuine possibility for them. Like they wouldn't really be able to have sex with just my body if they tried. There's no way they could derive pleasure from that mentality.
In the early 2000s I lived in Pittsburgh and I worked in a lab with this nurse who was older and a little kooky and she did NOT see what the big deal was about the Internet but she was excited when she realized I could download an Ally McBeal dancing baby screensaver for her. It came up when we were all out at lunch, and she mentioned it like 3x before we got back to the lab. Like as we were getting in someone's car to go back she pointed at me and was like "I want that dancing baby"
Last night I dreamt that I lived in rural Russia and I stopped two nationalists from raping an immigrant Kenyan nurse by the roadside. I killed one of them outright, and the other I deliberately severed his spinal cord at c4 using a chisel and then left him facedown and quadriplegic in a ditch. There was a bit of running water next to his mouth and it was drizzling, possibly going to start raining harder soon. So what kind of fucked up shit is going on in MY subconscious mind for me to come up with that shit, is the question.
petition to change the pride flag to pastel colors because that shit is easier on the eyes
✞☯follow for more soft homo☯✞
It is so nice to have a second bedroom that you can offer to people if they want to come stay for a while, visit LA, maybe just figure things out, you know. But I wish more came with it, like if I could also hook them up with a pretty chill job, a cute person who was into them, just like a little life you could give to someone for a few months while they get situated. There's so many people out there who seem like they're struggling or feeling disconnected from everything and it's like why is the world not hooking you up, you are so clearly awesome, somebody needs to fix this situation.
Sometimes I wonder if maybe the downstairs lesbians aren't really all that loud; like maybe it's just weird acoustics? And then they go outside and get into an argument with their uber driver and I can see people on my block looking out their windows like wtf who are these loud ass bitches and it's like ok I'm not crazy.
I just want to be a boulder in the woods, chilling in the shade, giving mosses and lichens a place to grow, slowly eroding for a million years.
