ah, out of weed . i guess the only thing left to smoke is... myself..
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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ah, out of weed . i guess the only thing left to smoke is... myself..
philadelphia, august 2002
Sorry we really went from free the nipple, take back the night, slut walks, and ending gender/sex segregation in sports being fucking milquetoast feminism 101 concepts to fucking girl dinner and "I just worry about fairness if we let trans girls play against cis ones" and "it was right of that woman to call the cops on a black man for existing near here in public during the day time because men are all violent monsters" and "radical feminism isn't transphobic we just need to kill all men including trans ones those oppressive traitors" and I will legit never be able to be normal about it. What the FUCK happened. I'd say I wonder what the feminists of my youth would say about this but I'm one and lemme tell ya I want to throw up. Go fucking read bell hooks or do something else useful please because all of this learned helplessness, gender essentialism, and transphobia dressed up as feminism is actively holding us back.
beautiful women named extreme heat warning keep blowing up my phone
there’s something almost sexual about jacking off
she asked me if i cain kill her with a rock i said i might be abel to
if i were polyamorous id individually message everybody in my polycule saying i needed gas money
im so blunt you could smoke my truth
Classically trained in muddy rocks and debris
they should invent an apartment that has huge windows but is never too hot and is near everything i like and all my friends but is also quiet when i want it to be and costs zero dollars or perhaps they pay me to live in. and they save it just for me so i dont have to look for it :)
drinking water when I have a headache should give instant relief. it should go away. what's even the point of drinking water if it can't do that
Bruises from car accidents
propaganda i am not falling for:
always moving on. some goodbyes need to rot a little. some griefs need to be held in the mouth like a stone.
beauty defined by algorithms. beauty exists in crow feet and smile lines
pretending to be chill. i’m not chill. i care deeply and inconveniently. i read into things. i write poems about eye contact
beige apartments with no soul. give me bookshelves and incense and loud art
sneaky links and unclear intentions. i want devotion. and also clarity
treating books as decor. read them. dog-ear them. argue with them in the margins