#personal expression

[miamaimania]

Intricate Japanese Tattoo Art ⌘ Traditional design on a woman's back, captured in a softly lit room.

[morwynlefay]

ever since i was little i hated shirts (skjortor in swedish)(uou know, white, or other colour, folded collar, dress shirt kind of thing) and you’d never catch me in it ever, i refused, and my parents where kind enough to never make me wear one. this is for several reasons, dysphoria that i at the time couldn’t identify probably, and the general heavy anti capitalist mindset that i grew up with in our house, which the dress shirt has kind become a sort of a symbol for for me, and lastly, the social conformity and lack of personality, the dead-ness in the garment, something, though i could not identify it at the time with the words i can now, i greatly feared.

now, this all still applies today, all of the above actually applies to ties and just modern suits in general as well for me

but semi-recently i found a 70s shirt with a very pointy folded collar and a very structured and stiff collar and cuff, and for some reason i’m very fine wearing it, and it feels much more butch to me than “upper class white guy”. there is something with the heavy structure in the collar that i really like.

but unless i find another shirt with exactly the same cut, collar and structure in parts that this one has with maybe just variation in pattern and colour, i don’t think i’ll ever wear another shirt (except for much older styles). and if you ever catch me wearing a modern shirt, a modern suit or a tie, know that i am surely and truly dead inside, it is, and i am not exaggerating here, one of my greatest fears to for domestic reason have to wear one

now, it’s not like i don’t wear suits, like i have been well known to wear 1890s evening wear, or 1830s-50s clothes, but never in my life will i wear its modern equivalent, even so early as the 30s some styles are becoming uncomfortable for my, and by the 50s almost all standard men’s clothes are off limits to me

[yellowmanula]

Today, a certain poet sent me a suggestion to write a collaborative poem that imitates intimacy 🤢. Maybe I've finally been driven to the edge, but I've deleted photos from Facebook that seem to be considered "controversial" or an "invitation" to flirt or something more by certain individuals there. I’ve written repeatedly that these photos are my personal expression, a way to process trauma, and an attempt to reclaim femininity in a patriarchal world. Yet, some men seem completely indifferent to this; instead, they either insult me, aggressively attack, give unsolicited advice on my image, or send inappropriate messages privately.

To all my photo critics—rejoice! Now, let’s all nicely cover up in turtlenecks and say a prayer (no offense to my believing friends, but this ultimately leads to control and hysterical reactions to the human body).

That’s all for now about Facebook. For now, I’m glad to still have a small space for freedom here.

[ashenbot]

kasen wears boxer briefs, fight me

[jar-of-forgotten-dreams]

My Rapport with Life

Life; a beautiful lie. That makes you believe in the world. It does not promise anything, yet, we end up believing them anyway. No matter how much it hurts us in the future.

I am the kind of person who looks around the meaning of life, when I should be the one creating it for myself.

To quote Rupi Kaur’s one of the poems:                Growing up, I naturally embraced who I was                But I was always battling with myself                So, I spent half my time being proud of being a woman                And the other half completely hating it.

It seems like Life have taught me everything, but I am too stubborn to actually understand it. Having the fear of the fact that the day I accept it all; would be the day I would get crushed by life’s actual reality. And I do not wish to let go of my delusions any time soon.

Life is a conniving little shit. Making us believe in a lie that everything is forever. Making us hate Death; when it is the only constant for us. The anchor of our being. Death is like a warm hug, a cloak which is draped on our shoulder by a concerned friend. Yet, we tend to ignore it with disgust in our being. But when you need Life the most; it slips away from your hands like sand in the hourglass. And all there is left is Death itself, greeting us like an old friend.

Life; the more I try to understand you, the more complicated you get. Like a ball of yarn. Simple enough to be understood, but once unwrapped, it tangles you in the mysteries of the Universe.

But I guess I figured Life out.

Life gets complicated when someone is close enough to understand the real meaning. It becomes rude, defensive, hurtful, mean, difficult. It ruins all the good in your world. It threatens to cut of the cord which keeps you together. And sometimes, it does cut off that cord. Makes you unhinged, makes you insane. And just when you are about to lose it all, Life reminds you. Reminds you cruelly but beautifully, that Life controls you.

Life, is my muse. The one about whom, no matter how much I write, is less. I could write books on Life, and it would be worth nothing.

Life, I hate the fact that you made me so strong and so resilient instead of coddling me like a kid. I hate the fact that you made me see love in everyone and everything, no matter how much it hurts me.

I hate the fact that you made me understand the things I needed to learn, not the things I wanted.

I hate that you made me so kind, that all I get is hurt in the process of extending that kindness.

I hate that you made me fall in love with you, when all I was looking for is an escape from you.

And I hate the fact that you love me back, the mess I am because of my experiences. The scars and wounds which you are so proud of.

So yeah, I hate Life, so much that I ended up falling in love with it. And I cannot wait for the adventures it shows me.

[margaretcruzemark]

Give me your autograph. Can I ride with you in your BMW?

[ferallafemme]

Birds and Blooms 🌸🪻🐦🌿