the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.
there’s no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.
nobody ever finds
the one.
the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill
nothing else
fills.
― Charles Bukowski (via delenadance)
ha ha it looks like i just got a C on my final german paper and successfully ruined my relationship with my german professor… also i spent last night in such violent pain from period cramps that i actually vomited, and all this after the shittiest most emotionally awful end to the semester i could have imagined
happy summer everyone
These questions came after a brief exploration of gay men’s relationship to American fashion and women’s bodies. That dialogue included recognizing that gay men in the United States are often hailed as the experts of women’s fashion and by proxy women’s bodies. In addition to this there is a dominant logic that suggests that because gay men have no conscious desire to be sexually intimate with women, our uninvited touching and groping (physical assault) is benign."
―Gay Men’s Sexism and Women’s Bodies by Yolo Akili (via plightofthepretty)
headed to goodwill to pick up some abercrombie and fitch clothes and then i’m gonna stop by an impoverished neighborhood and force the clothes upon homeless people who don’t want them. if you wanna come, please wear your KONY 2012 shirts, TOMS shoes, and save the boobies wristbands so people know that were serious about activism.
of understanding loss, grace of the word ‘no’
and also being able to say ‘you are not kind’
the year of humanity/humility
when the whole world couldn’t get out of bed
everyone i’ve met this year says the same thing
‘you are so easy to be around, how do you do that?’
the year i broke open and dug out all the rot with own hands
the year i learnt small talk
and how to smile at strangers
the year i understood that i am my best when i reach out and ask ‘do you want to be my friend?’
the year of sugar, everywhere
softness. sweetness. honey honey.
the year of being alone
and learning how much i like it
the year of hugging people i don’t know because i want to know them
the year i made peace and love
right here"
―Warsan Shire (via commovente)
