Un Kyoung Lee

Origami Around
Show & Tell
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
i don't do bad sauce passes
Monterey Bay Aquarium

ellievsbear
we're not kids anymore.
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Mike Driver
hello vonnie
AnasAbdin
Xuebing Du

Kaledo Art
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
occasionally subtle
Claire Keane

⁂
RMH
Sade Olutola

pixel skylines
seen from United States

seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia

seen from Sweden

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Japan

seen from Canada

seen from India

seen from Netherlands
@idecxox
Un Kyoung Lee

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can someone invent a type of letting go that actually feels good instead of feeling like your soul is getting ripped out via large intestine
the overwhelming feeling of sadness sometimes when someone treats me with kindness
Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous
Glennon Doyle, Untamed
Louise Glück, from “Otis”, Poems 1962 - 2012
Anne Sexton, The complete poems "The Witch's Life"

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i am sorry, mama. i know you did your best but i turned out wrong. i only ever sharpen my teeth on my own legs. i can't hunt and every song in my chest sounds more like a siren call. i tremble at every loud noise. i fear i am unlovable. you used to tell me to bark back and bite hard. i let every hand muzzle me and consider it gentle. touchstarved. i'm sorry. you wanted to raise a wolf but i am just a bad dog.
I did it out of love. You don’t owe me anything.

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forgive the person you were before you learned the lesson
V.E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
stained glass window. (via)
you have seen, many times, the phrase love your body! and every time, like rainwater, it glides off you. not because you cannot love it - you mostly, like, tolerate it - but because of the word "your".
is this your body? when you were 11 you had to start shaving your legs because other girls found it gross you were hairy. when you were 12, you had to stop wearing v-necks because of your chest - people were staring. your mother didn't let you dye your hair. your first boyfriend makes you dress up in skimpy clothes for him, then hated when other people coveted you. what you wear and how you present determine whether or not people find you funny or annoying or arrogant. other people get to determine if you are pretty, a court of opinion so loud it blots any good intent.
when is the body yours? magazines and instagram and tiktok endlessly advising you to "take care of" (starve) your body as if it is a weed. you must hack and slash at it, defend yourself from its wanton desires. it is a shameful, greedy thing. it is more like an art piece. you are keeping it or being kept-in-it.
you try to language it to your therapist - it's not that you don't recognize yourself in the mirror, it's more just that the thing that is in the mirror - it isn't you. that's why it's so easy to take apart: you're vaguely aware of the shape, but it feels like you are an animal hiding in the back of this cavern, snarling.
obviously you're like stuck in it. it often hurts a lot, buzzes with pain and a strange numbness. so it is your body when it's painful. that makes sense. otherwise - how many times have you been told to save yourself (your body) for marriage. for someone else. you are just borrowing it.
love your body! is so funny. somehow, without meaning to, the phrase reminds you - it isn't you. you're just inside it.
Salman Toor, Three Friends in a Cab, 16 x 20 inches, 2021

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An Interview with Jenny Slate, by Sara Black McCulloch