𓆝 𓆟

You need to draw and make art or else all the images will stay in your head and you'll get sick

"When I put my hands on your body, on your flesh, I feel the history of that body. Not just the beginning of its forming in that distant lake but all the way beyond its ending. I feel the warmth and texture and simultaneously see the flesh unwrap from the layers of fat and disappear. I see the fat disappear from the muscle, I see the muscle disappearing from around the organs and detaching itself from the bones. I see the organs gradually fade into transparency leaving a gleaming skeleton, gleaming like ivory that slowly revolves until it becomes dust. I am consumed in the sense of your weight, the way your flesh occupies momentary space, the fullness of it beneath my palms. I am amazed by how perfectly your body fits to the curves of my hands. If I could attach our blood vessels so we could become each other, I would. If I could attach our blood vessels in order to anchor you to the earth, to this present time, to me, I would. If I could open your body and slip up inside your skin and look out your eyes and forever have my lips fused with yours, I would. It makes me weep to feel the history of you, of your flesh beneath my hands, in a time of so much loss. It makes me weep to feel the movement of your flesh beneath my palms as you twist and turn over to one side, to create a series of gestures, to reach up around my neck, to draw me nearer. All these moments will be lost in time like tears in the rain."

i love not talking #theobserver

sometimes i see an opinion i disagree with, and from a combination of wanting to keep up appearances, avoid flak, and cut to the heart of the issue, i draft a series of increasingly abstract responses, eventually culminating in typing out "falsehoods aren't true", which, in a perfect act of autofellatio, deletes itself