I wrote an article about why I like the term "partner" for romantic relationships ~
we're not kids anymore.
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Kiana Khansmith

#extradirty
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Andulka
Mike Driver

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taylor price
Show & Tell

shark vs the universe
Monterey Bay Aquarium

PR's Tumblrdome

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Origami Around
sheepfilms
Misplaced Lens Cap

Product Placement

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@pavonine9
I wrote an article about why I like the term "partner" for romantic relationships ~
Wrote an article about a confrontation I had with a couple of dude bro's
Maybe there are people who do art, and people who do dishes. Maybe I am a person that does dishes, for I know that I do indeed do them. Everyday, dishes. At work, there are dishes. At home, there are even more. Sponge, soap, rinse wash rinse. That’s me. You are what you do and therefore I am dishes. Many are in the sink.
vision iv
I'm unsure of my canon But I'll load words into a cannon Iron-expelled iron Silencing as violence
Artdog
I went to an art gallery, and instead of finding myself through form, or drinking free wine, or chatting politely about media and rudimentary emotions, I watched a tiny, albeit hideous, blonde dog crunch potato chips off the floor.
Adrien Mérigeau // Pia Bramley
They told me to fix my diction but I have no predilection for constricted locution, I’ll enunciate the friction over factitious lubrication.
How many lip-skin scraps will I swallow before our two tender languors linger?
May
In her self-portraits, she wore her long black hair elaborately braided or adorned with those plants halfway between flowers and reeds: pussy willows, eucalyptus foliage, or the seed heads of lotuses. She played with the idea that they represented who she was, like soft background music or scratches on old photos, often left unnoticed but supplementing depth and shadow to those around her. Although, she probably just liked the way they looked.
if you can: keep the vision pieces going, they're splendid.
Thank you ☺️ I'll consider it
12.27.15
Just watched a man steal naan from this Indian buffet I'm eating at. He took about five squares and walked out, with the server walking after him saying, "excuse me!" and then getting another person, maybe the owner, to come out and chastise him. Safely across the intersection, he hid behind a parking meter, then jumped the gate into the parking garage for no perceivable reason since no one was chasing him, but turned around in a way as if to say, "don't give a fuck" to his accusers. Or maybe he put the naan in his zebra backpack while behind the meter and was throwing his hands up in a gesture of, "nothing to see here!" as if his accusers were so easily fooled. To steal food, to get to that point, I can only feel proud of my human kin for having the nerve not to starve. I hope he got the garlic kind and enjoys each bite. I don't know though, maybe I'm just writing my own meaning onto a meaningless event. I'm not sure why I feel this antagonism toward overpriced buffets; they're not demanding I eat there. But I get roped in and then their food isn't good but I feel the need to eat it as to get my money's worth and rip them off, but that's impossible because no one could possibly eat twelve dollars worth of inauthentic, bland curry. So, in conclusion, couldn't I just put the man's naan on my tab?
Someone whipped out their phone on the bus and I thought it was the TI-84 from my nightmares.
I've come to distinguish between the types of rainy days. Today is a bright rainy day like a flashlight covered by a sheet. It's easy to imagine the blue constancy above and greater than what happens in our human underworld beneath the clouds.
Bill looked into the customer’s eyes with accidental sincerity and said, “I’d give anything to get back that seven-year-old time with my daughter.” And the woman’s gaze dropped to the floor, silenced by the raw honesty in a grocery store check-out line, wondering if that would be where the shards of her shattered lucidity laid. And him, a smile and a tight clasp on a brown bag, annoyed for having lowered the fourth wall.
—AGK
Anyone but David Bowie over anyone
vision iii
Step into the temple over the raised wood of forced mindfulness. Body knows the motion: an intuitive ease. Mind expects ground Foot expects hard. And instead, first falling, next wet. Lastly a splash, gurgle, swim. Dim.
vision ii
My eyes are mouths: parched and starved. Chugging sight, eating raw majesty, fretting view food is finite. Toward appreciation and awareness as mathematical quantities that can be doubled, squared, or rounded. And why do my eye mouths have such perfect teeth?