How can I begin anything new with all of yesterday in me?
âLeonard Cohen, Beautiful Losers
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Sade Olutola
occasionally subtle

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Xuebing Du

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YOU ARE THE REASON
Game of Thrones Daily

shark vs the universe
NASA
Keni
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Kiana Khansmith
untitled
One Nice Bug Per Day

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TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
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@iwannatakebarebaths
How can I begin anything new with all of yesterday in me?
âLeonard Cohen, Beautiful Losers

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âTo live in this world
You must be able to do three things
To love what is mortal;
To hold it
Against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes
To let it go,
To let it go.â
Mary Oliver In Blackwater Woods 1983
Artworks by Luka Samkharadze
Hua Xi, from "The Past Still Needs Me"
Lacan said we make love through conversations. I believe that's how the meaning of making love should be. Whenever we talk about making love, it should only have pure connotations and it shouldn't involve something sexual at all.

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D. H. Lawrence, from a letter featured in The Selected Letters of D. H. Lawrence
imagine being the first ancient person to realize that the ocean and their tears taste the same. imagine realizing that your sorrow and the waves share a taste. i wouldve gone crazy
And Now That You Donât Have To Be Perfect You Can Be Good 2026
imagine if i did my work. if i sat down and Did it. and it was Done. can you even imagine such a thing

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when u look at 2017 and think âoh thatâs only like 3 years agoâ and itâs actually 12,000 years ago and everything is gone and everyone you know has been reduced to ash and the world is completely different
I remember learning that Lacanâs original description of jouissance establishes it as something occurring in a purely imagined and symbolic space and was like well clearly this is incorrect. Obviously jouissance is a physical sensation and therefore grounded in the body. And itâs not like I didnât understand what he was saying, it just made zero sense to me to imagine pleasure to the point of pain as occurring in a space that was purely conceptual, that the threat of it was tied solely to its impact on consciousness and not to the deeply visceral fear of pain and loss of physical control.
And Kristevaâs exploration of jouissance (specifically feminine jouissance) does address this, as she imagines a female experience of jouissance felt through physical pleasure. And itâs fascinating to me to establish that dichotomy, that the jouissance Lacan described exists in a phallic mode. Is it a product of western cultureâs desire to triumph over the body? Of the politics of civilization, of defeating viscerality through reason and self-control? Is that what pushes jouissance into a purely imagined realm, for Lacan?
Another side of it is that the concept of jouissance can admittedly feel a little âyeah, duhâ as an autistic person. Bliss to the point of painâ so much of sensation is like that. So many things that feel good also hurt. The familiarity of sensory sensitivity and overstimulation colors my understanding of jouissance inherently.
To me, the experience of jouissance is so deeply visceral it feels like a reflex, not just a physical experience but something that possesses, that occupies the body. When I think of jouissance I think of watching a horror movie and breaking out into excited, overwhelmed laughter at a moment of visual/narrative climax. The feelings of disgust/revulsion, horror, discomfort, catharsis, surprise, and pleasure all converge and cause a transcending and uncontrollable physical response. Or perhaps the overstimulation, alarm, amusement, panic, indignation of being tickled to the point of tears, or the heady, delirious feeling of laughing to the point of physical pain. I donât think I could ever see it as something occurring only within the realm of consciousness.
the internet is a place for reading wikipedia articles and watching every movie for free. social media is an invasive species. never forget this
Anna Sewell aka Sewell the Star aka Sewell Killingstad (American, based Baltimore, MD, USA) - Belly full of Bugs, Painting
Rainer Maria Rilke, "The Prodigal Son." The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke (translated by Stephen Mitchell)

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this shit is getting serious⌠september is ending soon
Trista Mateer, from a poem featured in her collection titled The Dogs I Have Kissed