noise dept.
romaâ
JBB: An Artblog!
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
will byers stan first human second
art blog(derogatory)
DEAR READER
Xuebing Du
JVL
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
wallacepolsom
$LAYYYTER
Mike Driver
ellievsbear
Three Goblin Art
Kiana Khansmith
trying on a metaphor
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@laureling
what up, iâm anthem, iâm 20, and i never fuckin learned how to hold casual conversations without referencing vines
iâve been kind of gone for a while but iâm hella back now! moving to a different account @nonbinarily so if you like me and / or the things i like then you know what to do, probably
i also still have that poetry blog @poisonlaurels even though iâve written two (2) poems in the last year and iâve posted zero (0) of them lol
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
what up, iâm anthem, iâm 20, and i never fuckin learned how to hold casual conversations without referencing vines
iâve been kind of gone for a while but iâm hella back now! moving to a different account @nonbinarily so if you like me and / or the things i like then you know what to do, probably
i also still have that poetry blog @poisonlaurels even though iâve written two (2) poems in the last year and iâve posted zero (0) of them lol
what up, iâm anthem, iâm 20, and i never fuckin learned how to hold casual conversations without referencing vines
iâve been kind of gone for a while but iâm hella back now! moving to a different account @nonbinarily so if you like me and / or the things i like then you know what to do, probably
i also still have that poetry blog @poisonlaurels even though iâve written two (2) poems in the last year and iâve posted zero (0) of them lol
what up, iâm anthem, iâm 20, and i never fuckin learned how to hold casual conversations without referencing vines
iâve been kind of gone for a while but iâm hella back now! moving to a different account @nonbinarily so if you like me and / or the things i like then you know what to do, probably
i also still have that poetry blog @poisonlaurels even though iâve written two (2) poems in the last year and iâve posted zero (0) of them lol
people with uteri are never gonna have a perfectly flat stomach. theyâre always gonna have a little pouch, because thatâs where we keep our bees.
once a month the moon angers the bees
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
when i was a little kid i got bullied on the playground so my mom asked me âwhat did jesus do when people were mean to him?â and i thought about it for a second and then started crying and screamed âhe DIEDâ
I mixed together the 2 dog themes and it sounded pretty cool so here yâall go
I gave my kitten treats for popping up out of a closed box but now heâs figured out that doing cute box tricks gets him food so heâs jumping in and out of the box and looking at me expectantly
I know itâs past midnight but I just realized I never posted these pics of my catÂ
You remember too much, my mother said to me recently. Why hold onto all that? And I said, Where can I put it down?
Anne Carson, from âThe Glass Essay,â Glass, Irony, and GodÂ
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
sombra in b2?
this is gay culture
expectation at age 13: will grow up to become the extroverted, witty, and enchanting elizabeth bennet
reality at age 22: has grown up to become the introverted, awkward, and stressed out fitzwilliam darcy
Words were different when they lived inside of you.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Remember to take it slow with the frozen treats
and then there was me, a queer girl in the catholic church with traditional parents. i grew up with a fingernail caught in my throat. i changed the words to songs so iâd be singing about boys. i was scared of âgayâ. my mother told me it meant happy but i knew it meant being pushed to the floor of the bus. i remember my bible school teacher telling us that the greatest sin a woman can have is not giving a man her love. i remember realizing i liked girls and putting it in a box i labelled dirty and couldnât bring myself to touch. when i came out i had to ask if my parents still loved me, like the idea of their acceptance ended where my sexuality began. they pull back when i accidentally slip and admit i like a girl. they promise the church doesnât hate us, just doesnât let us get married under godâs roof with god present. oh itâs a fine marriage, we accept it, but technically in the eyes of the church iâm living in sin. it would be better if i liked men. when i was 7 i was sure i was going to unhappily marry a man just to make my parents happy. at 23 i might marry a man just to make my parents happy.
god was this hard thing we couldnât figure out how to handle. god came beyond the doors of the church. my god answered me at night but reminded me to cower. my god killed my brothers and sisters in the hands of others. how am i to reconcile that god that felt like love and belonging with the god called down in conversion camps. how am i to say i love the light of god when i have seen it burn the flesh of others.
i watch it still. for a while i was spitting and hissing and wouldnât let god near me. i think it was better then, when i had shut my doors to the idea of it. once i tried to find god again i found myself desperately lost in the forest.
i was always so alone in church. always different. it wasnât until i mentioned it once in an online chat that i found someone else who had gone through the same thing. how terrible, to form a community of people who have all been cast out. how powerful.
we, together, discussing at two a.m if god is real and if she is where she begins and ends. my brothers and sisters and family - we are all so strong for having survived this. for having been spat out by what should have accepted us. that first community. that first slap. the book that taught us not all books are homes. the book that i spent hours combing over looking for where my flaws were entombed. that curse that keeps following us, doggedly, just when we thought we shook it off - watching others take god as an excuse to punish us, to put into law our discrimination, to enact and enforce violence against us. âgod loves you,â we were told. is this what god looks like? our first relationship with abuse?
i am stuck with an eternity of questions. can we find our own god? can we find her in each other? do we leave god entirely, and just find love in the stories of us lost lambs? is god worth it? was the word of god really to ruin us? is god even to blame for any of this, or is this how humans are when they find something to hit?Â
all i know is this: i am not alone. and if youâre like me, come to me. talk. iâll listen. god only knows nobody else did.
