desperate-living

indi-draws  asked:

Your blog supplies the quality monochrome content that I so desperately need in live. Thank u

I know im the OP but god same 😭. I’m really glad I can help fellow mono trash like me getting the content we need. And I love when people tell me that i made them ship monos ^^

tag yourself

aquiver (quivering, trembling): headphones on full volume, cold winter breeze, nervous glances, desperately trying to live life to the fullest, to-do lists and journals, daydreaming, missed opportunities and wanting to prove onself

mellifluous (sweet, smooth, pleasing to hear sound): dried flowers, morning rays of sunshine, eloquent sentences, waiting for a sign, mythology and fairytales, sucker for aesthetics, Polaroid pictures and old architecture

hiraeth (a homesickness for a home you can’t return to, or that never was): neon lights, airports and gas stations at night, either being extremely private or always oversharing, the adrenaline of winning arguments, marble and ice

limerence (the state of being infatuated with another person): long eye contact, staying up until 3 am, wanting to pick a random train and get away, being described as “out of it”, sitting in a car just to finish listening to that song, fatalist humour

syzygy (an alignment of celestial bodies): never being fully satisfied, inferiority superiority complex, overthinking, reading 5 books at once, dark academia, late night conversations, “is this all there is?”

ephemeral (lasting a very short time): chasing the feeling of being alive, laughing and crying at once, wishing to be a mermaid, saying “I don’t care” very caringly, either writing really long answers or just “ok”

vellichor (the strange wistfulness of used bookshops): googling random trivia in the middle of the night, being extremely enthusiastic but never actually finishing the project, poems and pretty words, caring too much, never having enough book marks

damn the delivery boy.

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk / Reader.

Genre: Expecting Parents AU / Fluff and Non-explicit smut.

Summary: Jeon Jeongguk is a computer science major working as a pizza delivery boy, and you are an uninspired published author who has just started an art degree. When you realise that the delivery boy is your old high school crush, he keeps coming back, but with more to offer than just puff pastry and vegetarian supreme. Though little did he know that he would end up giving you something much more that flips both of your worlds completely upside down in the form of two blue lines and nine months.

Count: 9,656 words.


month one.

Two lines.

The second is a little faint, but it is there, undeniably there, growing stronger by the second as your heart sinks deeper into the pit of your stomach and suddenly you are keeling over the sink, throwing up a combination of panic and regret. You wipe your mouth, sit back on the closed lid of the toilet, shut your eyes and take a deep breath, holding it until your lungs burn and your lashes fly back apart to look at the test still shaking between your fingertips.

There, right before your eyes, two fucking blue lines protruding like two middle fingers, poking up at you and saying – Congratulations sucker, you are pregnant!

Twenty-three years old and pregnant.

You throw up again.

This has got to be the biggest mistake of your life.

Keep reading

[SUBMISSION] Please read & share Hannah Black’s open letter to the curators and staff of the Whitney Biennial

To the curators and staff of the Whitney biennial:

I am writing to ask you to remove Dana Schutz’s painting “Open Casket” and with the urgent recommendation that the painting be destroyed and not entered into any market or museum.

As you know, this painting depicts the dead body of 14-year-old Emmett Till in the open casket that his mother chose, saying, “Let the people see what I’ve seen.” That even the disfigured corpse of a child was not sufficient to move the white gaze from its habitual cold calculation is evident daily and in a myriad of ways, not least the fact that this painting exists at all. In brief: the painting should not be acceptable to anyone who cares or pretends to care about Black people because it is not acceptable for a white person to transmute Black suffering into profit and fun, though the practice has been normalized for a long time.

Although Schutz’s intention may be to present white shame, this shame is not correctly represented as a painting of a dead Black boy by a white artist – those non-Black artists who sincerely wish to highlight the shameful nature of white violence should first of all stop treating Black pain as raw material. The subject matter is not Schutz’s; white free speech and white creative freedom have been founded on the constraint of others, and are not natural rights. The painting must go.

Emmett Till’s name has circulated widely since his death. It has come to stand not only for Till himself but also for the mournability (to each other, if not to everyone) of people marked as disposable, for the weight so often given to a white woman’s word above a Black child’s comfort or survival, and for the injustice of anti-Black legal systems. Through his mother’s courage, Till was made available to Black people as an inspiration and warning. Non-Black people must accept that they will never embody and cannot understand this gesture: the evidence of their collective lack of understanding is that Black people go on dying at the hands of white supremacists, that Black communities go on living in desperate poverty not far from the museum where this valuable painting hangs, that Black children are still denied childhood. Even if Schutz has not been gifted with any real sensitivity to history, if Black people are telling her that the painting has caused unnecessary hurt, she and you must accept the truth of this. The painting must go.

Ongoing debates on the appropriation of Black culture by non-Black artists have highlighted the relation of these appropriations to the systematic oppression of Black communities in the US and worldwide, and, in a wider historical view, to the capitalist appropriation of the lives and bodies of Black people with which our present era began. Meanwhile, a similarly high-stakes conversation has been going on about the willingness of a largely non-Black media to share images and footage of Black people in torment and distress or even at the moment of death, evoking deeply shameful white American traditions such as the public lynching. Although derided by many white and white-affiliated critics as trivial and naive, discussions of appropriation and representation go to the heart of the question of how we might seek to live in a reparative mode, with humility, clarity, humour and hope, given the barbaric realities of racial and gendered violence on which our lives are founded. I see no more important foundational consideration for art than this question, which otherwise dissolves into empty formalism or irony, into a pastime or a therapy.

The curators of the Whitney biennial surely agree, because they have staged a show in which Black life and anti-Black violence feature as themes, and been approvingly reviewed in major publications for doing so. Although it is possible that this inclusion means no more than that blackness is hot right now, driven into non-Black consciousness by prominent Black uprisings and struggles across the US and elsewhere, I choose to assume as much capacity for insight and sincerity in the biennial curators as I do in myself. Which is to say – we all make terrible mistakes sometimes, but through effort the more important thing could be how we move to make amends for them and what we learn in the process. The painting must go.

Thank you for reading
Hannah Black
Artist/writer
Whitney ISP 2013-14

Co-signatories/with the support of:

Amal Alhaag
Hannah Assebe
Anwar Batte
Charmaine Bee
Parker Bright
Vivian Crockett
Jareh Das
Aria Dean
Chrissy Etienne
Hamishi Farah
Ja'Tovia Gary
Juliana Huxtable
Anisa Jackson
Hannah Catherine Jones
Devin Kenny
Carolyn Lazard
Taylor LeMelle
Tiona Nekkia McClodden
Sandra Mujinga
Precious Okoyomon
Emmanuel Olunkwa
Imani Robinson
Andrew Ross
Christina Sharpe
Misu Simbiatu
Dominique White
Kandis Williams