12:23 am 89 notes
— Patti Smith, Just Kids
12:22 am 6 notes
Blessedness is within us all
It lies upon the long scaffold
Patrols the vaporous hall
In our pursuits, though still, we venture forth
Hoping to grasp a handful of cloud and return
Unscathed, cloud in hand. We encounter
Space, fist, violin, or this — an immaculate face
Of a boy, somewhat wild, smiling in the sun.
He raises his hand, as if in carefree salute
Shading eyes that contain the thread of God.
Soon they will gather power, disenchantment
They will reflect enlightenment, agony
They will reveal the process of love
They will, in an hour alone, shed tears.
His mouth a circlet, a baptismal font
Opening wide as the lips of a damsel
Sounding the dizzying extremes.
The relativity of vein, the hip of unrest
For the sake of wing there is shoulder.
For symmetry there is blade.
He kneels, humiliates, he pierces her side.
Offering spleen to the wolves of the forest.
He races across the tiles, the human board.
Virility, coquetry all a game — well played.
Immersed in luminous disgrace, he lifts
As a slave, a nymph, a fabulous hood
As a rose, a thief of life, he will parade
Nude crowned with leaves, immortal.
He will sing of the body, his truth
He will increase the shining neck
Pluck airs toward our delight
Of the waning
The violent charade
But who will sing of him?
Who will sing of his blessedness?
The blameless eye, the radiant grin
For he, his own messenger, is gone
He has leapt through the orphic glass
To wander eternally
In search of perfection
His blue ankles tattooed with stars.
4:44 pm 1,298 notes
All these new posts with lots of notes talking about everyone on this site constantly being offended have been bugging me. I feel like they’re this subtle effort to undermine Tumblr’s online feminist/social justice community, which is a damn shame because I think it is one of the greatest things this website has done. There are a huge number of teenage girls (and other people too, but mostly them) who have discovered feminism or learned how to be receptive to at least some of its ideas because of this website. That is so important. And to be honest, I think sometimes being offended by everything is that first step in viewing the world in a new, more enlightened way. I wish people would not trivialize that with all these stupid jokes. (…occasionally they’re funny. Usually not though).
4:42 pm 2 notes
Okay in the 70s and 80s it was cool not to wear bras all the time. Like if Diane Keaton or Meg Ryan is wearing a tank top or tshirt sometimes they just let ‘em go. Even if you can see their nipples. I feel like somewhere along the way this became unacceptable. I know in high school people would talk about the girls that didn’t wear bras and how weird it was. Thank god I’m not in high school anymore because fuck that. Bras for people with C-cups and smaller (like my lovely B’s) is just a stupid social construct….bullshit!!!
I apologize I am slightly drunk. This does not make any of this untrue. Also i am reading Just Kids and I feel like Patti Smith would be disappointed if she knew how often I wear a fucking bra. I feel like I’m betraying something. I hate how fucking put together girls are encouraged to be all the time. It’s dumb as nuts
2:14 am 2 notes
10:16 pm 29 notes
Beauty or brains?
Fuck that, it’s not a dichotomy. Let’s not act like mascara glues girls eyes so shut that they can’t read a word of Dickens or solve a trig problem. Let’s talk about how no boy has ever been asked if he’d rather get his Bachelor’s or get married; no boy has ever been told that he’s too handsome to run for office. So, why cover up my tits so you can take me seriously?
Beauty or brains? I’ll take ‘em all, thanks.
11:52 pm 75,246 notes
I am so good at turning my brain off, shutting it down like a computer, pulling out the power cord, erasing all the coding and going to sleep.
I always hate admitting this, but I used to have a therapist when I was younger. When I was going through all of that capital-s Shit. I was bogged down and stuff. And she was always remarkably impressed with my skills at repression, specifically when it comes to embarrassing childhood memories. I cannot remember a single one, I swear. And it’s not like they come up when I’m in certain situations. They traumatized me so much because I was so sensitive that they’re just wiped.
Anyway sometimes repression is good. It makes the bad things hurt less because you compartmentalize them and then one day you open the drawer you hid them in and they’ve disappeared. But I do the same thing with the good stuff, is the problem. I repress any feelings I could have that could matter. I don’t know why I’m so afraid when everyone else is so open. It’s almost stupid.
It is stupid.
2:53 am 2 notes
2:39 am 90,091 notes
— Paul Hawkens
2:38 am 5,413 notes
Thank you so much!
7:55 pm 14 notes
I call mine the cold. I know there are lots of names people have; that’s mine. I think it’s fair and appropriate because the feeling starts in your upper chest cavity and spreads down to your pelvis like icy frost and does not even flow through your veins because it has discovered the previously unknown hollowness. So it spreads itself and sits. And sometimes I will physically shiver, and I become worried because I have no little earmuffs and scarves and sheep-skin boots for my liver and lungs and heart, and could I get frostbite from the inside out?
But even more than a sensation the cold is a feeling, and sometimes I like it, I like it when I can read an existentially wrought novel or watch a horrifically depressing movie and I can cry it out, when the frost experiences a state change into the easy liquid that comes out of my eyes.
Usually I cannot cry out the cold though, and I hate this. When I cannot cry out the cold I either sleep it out or vomit it out and both are unfulfilling and do not really get the job done the way it should be done and I’m either vomiting or clutching my stomach in pain either way, because it won’t get out and it’s here. It’s a level of awareness about the world and my place in it that I would normally value but for some reason (okay, I know the reason - we all know the reason) it hurts.
7:52 pm 3 notes
— untitled manuscript ~ cbm
4:54 pm 7 notes