zephyrus, man exploding

thou art a merciless fucking god dean winchester. repressing being a spn blog. transfag extraordinaire. (20, he/him)

[thoughtsfromamutant]

the contagion of the decadent, the decadent devouring, the decadent subsuming of all contact into itself

[thoughtsfromamutant]

any film book media anything remotely about ww1 should be homoerotic. i dont need explicit homosexuality, though an obviously gay character is nice every once in a while, what i want is a constant and all permeating implied anxiety on the liminality of homosociality. what does it mean to be constantly surrounded by men all the time? what does it mean to owe your life to a man? what does it mean to spend your life serving men (generals, king, god)? to be a slave to them and their desires? for the only time you touch a man to be thrusting a bayonet into his chest to kill him (clear phallic imagery) or cradling him, applying desperate pressure to a wound as he's dying?

This is brought to you by thoughts on the invention of love, the charioteer, 1917, wilfred owen siegfried sassoon and the genre of war poetry in general, and spn fanfic 91 whisky.

- The Invention of Love, Tom Stoppard

[thoughtsfromamutant]

sorry how could I ever forget - implicit in the invention of love, but this is also about ae houseman’s corpus broadly (literal and creative).

He would not stay for me and who can wonder,

He would not stay for me to stand and gaze.

I shook his hand and tore my heart in sunder,

And went with half my life about my ways.

[thoughtsfromamutant]

if i get herpes from the man who fucked me at berghain then i will never live it down

[thoughtsfromamutant]

sorry how does the fiancée of it all fit in??? so impossibly bewildered by this man. in other words I love

[thoughtsfromamutant]

thinking aboit maudy thursday by wilfred owen rn..

“Then I too knelt before that acolyte

The Christ was thin and cold and very dead

Yet still I knelt, yea kissed, my lips did cling

— I kissed the warm live hand that held the thing”

[thoughtsfromamutant]

Lavery lavery lavery - I need to figure this out. Something something Preciado the prosthetic impulse the dildo precedes the penis. theory and practice must coexist and neither can impede the other.

[thoughtsfromamutant]

in other words what we learn from transsexuality is that intellectuals have to fuck to be able to think

[thoughtsfromamutant]

Lavery lavery lavery - I need to figure this out. Something something Preciado the prosthetic impulse the dildo precedes the penis. theory and practice must coexist and neither can impede the other.

[thoughtsfromamutant]

odi et amo etc etc iterum ad nauseam

[thoughtsfromamutant]

sorry how does the fiancée of it all fit in??? so impossibly bewildered by this man. in other words I love

[thoughtsfromamutant]

fuuuuuck. I wish that REDACTED would REDACTED my REDACTED till I can compose in 3/4 time

[ladyaislinn-purewhite]

Mein garten bedarf nicht luft und nicht wärme Der garten den ich mir selber erbaut Und seiner vögel leblose schwärme Haben noch nie einen frühling geschaut

Von kohle die stämme von kohle die äste Und düstere felder am düsteren rain Der früchte nimmer gebrochene läste Glänzen wie lava im pinien-hain

Ein grauer schein aus verborgener höhle Verrät nicht wann morgen wann abend naht Und staubige dünste der mandel-öle Schweben auf beeten und anger und saat

Wie zeug ich Dich aber im heiligtume — So fragt ich wenn ich es sinnend durchmass In kühnen gespinsten der sorge vergass — Dunkle grosse schwarze blume?

Stefan George (Algabal, 1892)

[vcasih]

du schlank und rein wie eine flamme du wie der morgen zart und licht du blühend reis vom edlen stamme du wie ein quell geheim und schlicht

begleitest mich auf sonnigen matten umschauerst mich im abendrauch erleuchtest meinen weg im schatten du kühler wind du heißer hauch

du bist mein wunsch und mein gedanke ich atme dich mit jeder luft ich schlürfe dich mit jedem tranke ich küsse dich mit jedem duft

du blühend reis vom edlen stamme du wie ein quell geheim und schlicht du schlank und rein wie eine flamme du wie der morgen zart und licht.

[ambrose-and-aislinn]

‘schönheit ist nicht am anfang und nicht am ende: sie ist höhepunkt. die kunst ergreift am meisten, in der man das atemholen neuer noch schlafender geister spürt.’ ~

Stefan George

[thoughtsfromamutant]

[thoughtsfromamutant]

the pleasure of the abject the flower of the asshole Stefan George etc etc

[thoughtsfromamutant]

[thoughtsfromamutant]

the contagion of the decadent, the decadent devouring, the decadent subsuming of all contact into itself

[thoughtsfromamutant]

btw combined with the decadent pull towards scholarship and catalogue of itself this means to study or teach the decadent is the most decadent thing one can do. you participate in the spread under false pretenses of neutrality. false. the decadent has no neutrality. he hates and loves and lauds himself; he is incapable of neutrality.

[thoughtsfromamutant]

literally Why have i not turned to decadence as a genre before now

[thoughtsfromamutant]

I read the decadence and Catholicism book and die and am reborn. I look through the list of decadent identifiers and bang my head repeatedly on the table. “obsessive sexual passivity, gendered inversion and incompetence, masculine weakness, desperate orientation towards the book as sacred, need for the catalogue and search for literary genealogy, pull towards the aesthetics of rot, magnetic pull towards languishing in sin which is only as strong as the capacity to virtue it implies, inability to distinguish art and life, inability to separate reality from fantasy, literal celibacy in the mind of a whore.” check check check check check. this is untenable.

[thoughtsfromamutant]

counting down the days till the conversion is i guess what this is teaching me. I am putty in his hands.