there is literally no reason why in our glorious age of technology we shouldn’t be able to change our names for free anytime anywhere. like literally what is the point in forcing people to go down to a legislative office, pay upwards of 200$ sometimes more, to go before a judge and go ‘can i change my name, like MY name, like not even somebody else’s name’ and there’s a chance your request might be DENIED? in the year of our lord 2020? we have fucking social security numbers what’s the fucking holdup are you telling me that our system is so incompetent that nothing is digitized and that everything is on paper? that we’d have to go through and manually change everything? are you telling me that in anno domini 2020 we cannot freely change our names to whatever the fuck we want whenever the fuck we want? i can go and get a wholeass new face, COMPLETELY transmogrify myself, i could get one of my arms cut off and replaced with a fishtank but change my NAME? i can fucking have a fucking spa worker draw my blood spin the plasma out of it and give me a BLOOD FACIAL but i cant change my NAME? MY name? in the year of our lord 2020?
God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of ‘parties’ with no purpose, despite the false grinning faces we all wear. And when at least you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter–they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
very quickly realising that for me self love no longer looks like taking a long bath or doing a face mask or painting my nails or treating myself to that makeup product i really wanted.. it’s now working out & cooking for myself using fresh produce & getting those few extra hours of sleep & going for a walk outside even if it’s only for 5 minutes. at the moment it’s about feeling healthy & i think before it was about feeling desirable
Sometime you have to force yourself to self isolate from other people because you don’t want their drama and mess to cling onto your own life. Sanity can be lonesome but it’s so much better than a having your life ruined by the influence of others.
Learning to not rely on the validation of religious people or institutions to determine my walk with God and my own personal relationship with his divinity. Learning not to take my frustrations with religious people and institutions on God and realizing that my anger should never be directed at him because they don’t speak for him. Growing and continually learning to improve my spiritual life 💗
This morning, I crafted an incense dedicated to the Mountain’s Elders I visit regularly. Its goal is to pay my respects to them (and to the spirit realm) and to protect me, so I could use it like a bridge between this world and the other.
It is composed of plants from the hedge (foetid hellebore seeds and leaves, foxglove, hypericum, common salvia, viper bugloss, thymus serpillum, rumex sanguineus, etc), pine resin and leaves, black sacra frankincense, acacia gum, beech bark, leaves and, the guest star : amanita muscaria.
I’m happy with the result : it smells very woody and fresh.
HELP I’m looking for this song!! That I found cause it was like? Linked in a sollux fan art post w/the lyrics as a caption. It’s written and sung by a trans dude and the lyrics are like “I can’t live with/stand all this privilege” or something like that… it was abt how he was more respected once he was perceived as a man?? I think it was acoustic and live but honestly I’m just trying to find it pls help
You seem to be my own blood, so great is my love for you. This time I feel the strong god with me. I want to bow before his law and bring him an offering in sacrifice. I want to possess you, were it to mean your and my destruction.
Paul Klee (1879-1940), a diary note #141, Munich III, 1900-1901
in: “The Diaries of Paul Klee, 1898-1918″
Sono appena tornata a Berlino dopo una vacanza passata a zonzo per l'Europa.
Eh, signora mia, che vuole farci, ho pensato fosse divertente incrementare le mie probabilità di essere contagiata dal Covid.
I miei giorni in Francia li ho spesi a incrementare le mie probabilità di morire per arteriosclerosi e/o overdose da lattosio, dato che ho mangiato Saucisson (che foss a’ salam) e Fromage (che foss o’ furmagg) per tutto il tempo.
Una bella esperienza che però vi consiglio di non fare portandovi appresso un francese, come ho fatto io.
Vi racconto uno dei momenti salienti:
Ambientazione: Cabina del treno, posto finestrino
Luogo: Imprecisato. Da qualche parte tra Avignon e Montpellier
Soggetti: Io e quello che chiameremo per comodità IL FRANCESE
ATTO PRIMO (E UNICO)
Io: Ho fame. Hai portato qualcosa da mangiare?
IL FRANCESE: Sì sì.
* scioglie a fatica il nodo per aprire una busta sigillata che aveva nello zaino. Dalla busta parte un odore (diciamo pure: un fieto) che appesta tutta la cabina più quelle adiacenti. Una loffa avrebbe fatto meno scalpore, fidatevi. La signora seduta accanto a noi storce il naso nonostante la mascherina e ci inizia a guardare strano *
* IL FRANCESE non se ne fa proprio. Sistema un fazzoletto a mò di mmesale e ci piazza sopra il pezzo di formaggio. Affonda le mani nella busta e tira fuori pure una salama (quanto è sexy tutto ciò, quanto?!) e una baguette, perché non ci facciamo mancare niente. Mi guarda e sorride con tutta la sua flemma francese, non sembra realizzare che tutta la cabina ci vuole sparare. Io assisto alla scena e lo osservo come Piero Angela osserverebbe gli scavi di Pompei *
* IL FRANCESE infila una mano in tasca e tira fuori un coltellino svizzero nemmeno tanto “ino”, manco fosse normale andare in giro con un'arma bianca non dichiarata. La signora seduta accanto a noi non fa una piega, continua ad essere molto più preoccupata per il formaggio che fét appést *
* IL FRANCESE affetta la salama e il formaggio che manco il chianchiere sotto casa, sistema le fettine in maniera ordinata, precisa, quasi maniacale *
* Io stacco un pezzo di baguette, ci piazzo sopra una fetta di salame e una di formaggio e succede l'impensabile *
IL FRANCESE (con pacata eleganza): OH, MA SEI PAZZA! CHE CAZZO FAI?
Whyyyyy do instagram commenters have to be Like That… “hoohoo I’m going to compliment ur fan art but dis the character you drew! Hope u don’t mind me dunking on this character u like :)” like bro stfu…. welcome to watch mojo top 10 annoying comments
I love seeing black women and POC wearing modest outfits. I’m not sure where I got this or why, but I always thought being modest (or Christianity) was easier for white women for the simple fact that black women are overly sexualized and often told that the more they show the more appealing they will be to others. I’m so glad I am un-learning this mindset. It pleases me to see my fellow black women wear modest clothes if they so choose.
Here’s to 11 deeply satisfying years of horrifying new and old initiates on this platform.
“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Godphone seers replaced by the emergence of emoji spells. I watched Tulpa discourse in the dark through Tumblr reblogs. All those moments will be lost in time, like (menstrual) blood in rain.” – Dirty
How should we celebrate this Methuselahesque milestone?