steamy.
we're not kids anymore.
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Kiana Khansmith

#extradirty
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Andulka
Mike Driver

roma★

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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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@thingsaresomuchbetternow
steamy.
by tucker
Much
Half-Assed Pursuit of a Calling
I want to be a musician and the frontman of a punk band but instead I'm timidly pursuing an art career. I've toyed around with the idea of starting a Youtube channel. Well, I did start one but I barely post on it. I participate in group art exhibitions. I keep this blog and say what I think here but I keep it a secret from the people in my life. I show people my art. I recommend the songs I love to the people who's attention I want. I went to a singular jam session once, they put me in front of a mic to sing, and I basically whispered into it the whole time. Even when I'm home alone, the thought of really trying to sing how I want to is followed by a wave of shame and fear that strikes me down. I've been beating around the bush, too scared to really go do the thing that I feel a deep and unrelenting urge to do. I get my fixes how I can in the meantime - doing little things to get inklings of the sensation I crave to have one day in full force. I want the fucking spotlight. I want to scream and sing into the mic with my powerful truth. I want enact the emotional and spiritual release of music. Not to mention the theatrics of performing seems so fun. Here's the bottom line: I will die someday. I will hate myself and I'll have to rationalize the meaning of my life if I don't just fucking send it and pursue this calling before my time is up.
When I think like this, I feel the most like myself. I feel the most alive. And what pisses me the fuck off is knowing that there are plenty of people in my life who would like me to have a calmer fucking attitude about this. You know, something more reasonable and digestable for them. But this is my truth!!! This is who I am! I think it is a wasted fucking life to not do what I feel called to do. And like, why am I acting like I don't have a real chance to do it? Sure I didn't have the best childhood and I don't come from the most ideal family, but I've got plenty of friends who are musicians who I know would want to support me, I like near fucking Detroit, Michigan - a hub of hardcore punk music, and this shit is claaawwwwinggggg out of me. I feel desperate and angry in all the best ways, Like I'm finally awake and mad I was kept asleep for so long. Like my soul is clawing its way out of a fucking dungeon to get to me and speak to me its truth. Part of me is scared and wants to pathologize this as mania or some sort of fucking spiritual imbalance, but I know thats not true! I know it viscerally. Plus, I know that that worried voice is coming from the internalized fear of others. It's from the people who have felt too shaken by me experiencing anything like this in the past. It's from those who value predictability, safety, and inclusion to the point of invisibility who speak like that. I don't want to be invisible. Safety is not my utmost priority. Truth is.
Above all, the only voice of reason I feel like I can listen to without compromising my truth is this: I need to make. Any sort of desperate urge to destroy or completely upend my whole life, or god-forbid, end my life, is coming from the soul being incredibly frustrated that I have not been expressing it by making.
But I have this to say to the voice of reason in response: sure, I don't need to bail on my lease, cut everyone off, and move somewhere obscure. But lets not pretend like I don't need to make some significant changes to my life in order to live my truth. I need to move, thats a fact. Yeah, Detroit would be a good option. Part of me feels like that's not a big enough change and wants me to move across the country. There is truth to the idea that it is not a big enough change. It isn't. Not on it's own. But to get the full amount of change that I need, I'll change other things than just where I'm living. I'll get a steady job to support myself so I won't constantly be distracted by the stress of figuring out how to get money for food and rent and can actually commit to the work I want to do, even before I can make any money off of it. I'll show up to more jam sessions. I'll keep writing songs. I'll get my electric guitar back from my sister so I can keep playing on that. I'll sing. I will fucking sing, more and more, as often as I can. And most importantly, I will keep this spirit alive. I will keep speaking my truth. I will practice fearlessness. I will not get distracted by social media, the opinions of those near me, nor the expectations of society. If I need to keep this pursuit a secret for a while in order to protect myself from the opinions of those who might discourage me, so be it. I will keep my soul pursuit safe from others until it is strong enough and has gained enough momentum to survive the judgements of fearful meanies while out in the open. This is my life. I will make it feel worth it to me.
Ilya Zankovsky - "Moonlit Night"
Sydney Gross in The Harvard Lampoon, March 1920
⊙ INNER TERRITORY ⊙
An interesting deep dive into who identifies as “rural” (hint: it’s not actual rural people) and how that influences our politics, by Ray Delahanty (CityNerd)
Walnut shells cut in half.
"Zoological Lotto", vintage board game designed by V. Vatagin (Soviet Russia, 1939)
Straining the Noodles
The connection between physical pain & tension, emotional blockages, and clinging attachments.
This is knowledge I have realized and then forgotten, but I am remembering now again. It is not new to me or the world.
These last few days I've had lots of free time, some of which I've dedicated to caring for my body. In the day before yesterday I massaged my legs and face for quite some time. I even stuck my fingers in my mouth and explored the hidden reserves of pain in there. I rubbed my gums, hooked my fingers to reach the inside of my jaw, and pushed up into that crease where the cheeks and gums join together. If anyone were to see me, I'm sure I would have looked like a freak. Despite that, I'd encourage you to give it a shot sometime. You might be surprised at how much tension is held just within your mouth. And my legs? They hold so much pain. More than I realize. It's a numb, quiet pain that begs no attention until I poke at it.
So I poked. I poked and prodded, stretched, squeezed and rubbed, attempting different methods of releasing the tension. I find satisfaction in the practice of letting my hands explore my body to sense the skin, fascia, and muscles and find the pain points begging to be released. The tension that the body holds can be felt both from external touch and sensing one's own body through interoception. To the hand, tension feels bumpy and stiff - that's rigid fascia. Or it can feel like a lump - that's a muscle knot. Internally it might be sensed as an ache, numbness, or stiffness. Sometimes I look at anatomical diagrams of the muscle groups I'm working on to satisfy a curiosity and get a better idea of what exists just on the other side of my skin.
Since doing this self care work, I've found a poetic resemblance between the dissipated clenching of my muscles as well as that of my grip on what I desire, tell myself I need, and the feelings and emotional pains so familiar to me. Now, I can relax my jaw and feel less desperate to have him back in my life. I'm more accepting of my complicated emotional state and feel less of a desire to breeze through it and feel something "healthier." I can hold my shoulders upright and feel more steady in myself. With my body at ease, experiences can pass through me much more easily. When my muscles are gripped, tight, and unreleasing, I experience life as difficult to move through; I fuss over losses, struggle to accept truths, and perceive others with less altruism. The body is a channel that connects our minds and souls with the world around us. The ease and clarity with which things pass through this channel is influenced by the tension or lack thereof that is held in our muscles and fascia. Posture and personality are also just as linked.
I think the point of saying this and sharing it is to document this reminder to myself and share it as advice to others: when you are stuck in a feeling or narrative, tend to your physical body and find where your muscles and fascia are also feeling stuck. Emotions and the state of your body are directly connected. Emotional transformation can be assisted or even triggered with a physical opening. Massage, acupuncture, stretching and movement are great tools. You might need the kind of massage that is a gentle touch, mostly helping you improve your mind-body connection. Or maybe you need someone to stick their elbow in that hamstring knot that you simply can't get rid of on your own. Acupuncture can be deeply effective. I've only done it twice but each time I left feeling euphorically relaxed. Stretching can be a tool on its own or coupled with other tools like massage and movement. Just go slow and mindfully so you don't overdo it. And movement can look like a million different things - lifting weights, dancing, mobility practices, running, or somatically writhing on the floor. I think the somatic release of repressed feelings can be one of the most invigorating experiences. And don't sleep on the importance of breath work and meditation.
I find it both frustrating and funny how often I forget what happens when I consistently tend to my body and how much it effects me emotionally and mentally. Without the care, my chronic pain gets worse and I become meaner, less forgiving, and more irritable. But when I take really good care of myself, and I get better, I start slacking because I feel like I "fixed it" and there's no pain to remind me to take care of myself. But honestly I'm curious what would happen if I reached that point of no longer having constant pain, and kept going, trying to improve even further. What new level of experiencing reality might I reach?
Yesterday I was noticing these very brief moments where I felt like I was seeing things more clearly and like I was more real or more fully experiencing reality; increasingly alive. Perhaps I was coming out of a dissociative fog. This is actually what inspired me to analyze this experience more closely. The flashes of being more present were exciting, it was like I was fully awake for the first time in a long time. I know giving up smoking has helped this too. Weed puts me in a haze and even when I sober up it still takes so long to fully escape that haze. And then cigs just limit my lungs' ability to absorb oxygen.
But it feels good to realize this again. I'm excited to keep going with it, nurturing it and keeping the momentum for as long as possible again. If I forget again, that's okay. I can forgive myself and trust I will remember it again when I need to. For now though, I am happy to be in my empress energy. And I look forward to finding out what I attract by caring more deeply and affectionately for myself.
Much love, be good and kind to yourself and others 🖤
From my adventures in California today. I’m gonna miss it here 😢
old post from my old page.
This was my first trip to California with my dad, sisters, and our childhood friend Gracie. She is no longer with us, died a few years ago. It's disturbing to be reminded of the way people can be so deeply ingrained in your life, then fade out, then be gone completely. In our childhood she was practically another member of the family, hence her joining on a family vacation. I miss her and those days. All thats left of either are memories, photos, and stories.
I still have vivid memories of the day we snorkeled. Rented the gear from a guy in a van, T-shirts included for warmth since it was kind of a chilly day. The world just under the surface of the water was mesmerizing. I remember letting myself float limply looking down and around. My body swayed with the water and waves. I watched the seaweed, looking like a flooded prairie, sway with the water too, just like me. It was hypnotizing. A tiny fish with vibrant orange scales emerged, swimming consistently, fighting the pull back of the waves, riding the push. So beautiful and unique in its dark green and blue environment. What a cutie. I began to swim like him and explore the cove. I'd go deeper, further out. I'm certain I saw the corpse of a seal floating in the distance. Then a live one popped up from underneath me! The curious cutie swam away pretty quick once Maddie and Gracie screamed from surprise at it.
I'd like to go back, explore those waters more. Or maybe new ones. I've always found dark water to b incredibly eliciting. I like being a part of them. I like hiding in them. I feel pulled to go deeper, further. Until I reach the edge. The void of the open ocean scares the shit out of me. I'll be brave enough yet to venture out when I get the chance.
Week 2: The snow came which then brought the bears. And honestly, the bears were pretty goofy.
Walkin' around in the snow with Amand(e/a) :P so wonderful and fun and the talking was so healing as per usual.
The beginnings of a collage
To be continued and built upon throughout the year
Week 1: Water Moves in Weird Ways
It was my first day back in my home after the holidays. I was feeling lonely, missing my family and our critters. But I was feeling a certain amount of peace. I let myself walk slowly and pay attention to all that was around me. As I'm writing this now, a week after I went on this walk, I wish that peace and mindfulness had lasted. It was the calm before the storm.
I made the mistake of hooking up with a friend at the tail end of 2023. I had feelings for him for over a year; they developed and stayed since only a few weeks after we met. He wasn't a very good friend. Or a very good lover to be completely honest. It was passionate and hot at least. But quick and without climax for me. I think that's the whole vibe between he and I. Us having sex was followed by him being unavailable to talk things through with me afterwards, because he felt his other situationship was much more important than ours, which triggered so many old feelings; feelings from way before he and I met. It's now less than two weeks after he and I hooked up and we're no longer friends. We've been texting just to figure out what to do with the stupid fucking hat he left at my place.
Edit: My feelings were ones of limerence. My comedown from it not working out with him was a brutal withdrawal. The object of my limerence abandoned me but took with him the unknown I dreamt in. I knew.