Boulimie nocturne
DEAR READER
Not today Justin

â

JVL
trying on a metaphor
Sade Olutola
will byers stan first human second
Xuebing Du
Stranger Things
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
wallacepolsom
occasionally subtle

Janaina Medeiros
Misplaced Lens Cap

if i look back, i am lost
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
noise dept.

sheepfilms

seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from Germany

seen from Spain
seen from Malaysia
seen from T1

seen from Canada
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seen from United States

seen from T1

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Belgium

seen from Maldives

seen from Malaysia

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@psychopute
Boulimie nocturne

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« J'aime mieux les ĂȘtres qui saignent. J'aime les forts, bien sĂ»r, mais pas tout Ă fait les forts. J'aime les forts au regard tremblant, tremblant d'amour. »
ăŒ Jean-RenĂ© Huguenin
By: deadlyashes
J'y crois plus
Jsuis Ă bout de souffle
The Baltimore Sun, Maryland, August 23, 1942
Unpopular opinion : je sais pas ce qui s'est passé au cours de la derniÚre décennie mais ça fait belle lurette que je n'ai pas goûté un bon éclair et pourtant j'en ai arpenté des boulangeries avec mon gros corps

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Les gosses de riches vraiment je peux pas, je peux PAS JE PEUX PLUS NIQUEZ TOUS VOS SALES DARONNES
Un duplex dans le 12Ăšme, un planning vide
Des dessins et des rires
Et puis l'oubli
"16/03/18
CafĂ© froid, pilon coupĂ©, larmes salĂ©es, l'intĂ©rieur qui brĂ»le brĂ»le brĂ»le, l'envie de se planter un couteau dans le ventre pour dĂ©faire le nĆud qui lie mes tripes et le planter planter planter, tourner jusqu'Ă enfin vider mon sac plein de graisse."
Pas la meilleure mais pas la pire non plus
Tu m'aimes ? Tu m'aimes ? Dis moi, est ce que tu m'aimes ? T'es sûr ?

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C'est entre moi et moi
Entre moi et moi
Je contre moi
Jeux contre moi
C'est entre moi et moi
Entre moi et moi
Amélioration et dégradation constantes
J'ai le covid depuis mercredi, mes j ont le goĂ»t de khnouna c'est infect mais c'est pas ça qui va m'arrĂȘter
Je porte une gaine, un t-shirt gainant et un pantalon une taille trop petit
J'étouffe

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 âą No registration required âą HD streaming
âI keep thinking, thinking, and my thoughts are all sick, and my head is sick.â
â Fyodor Dostoevsky, from Stories; âThe Meek One,â written c. 1876
"I havenât got a speech, I didnât plan words, I didnât even try to. I just knew that I had to get here, to stand here and I knew I wanted you to listen; to really listen, not just pull a face like youâre listening, like you do the rest of the time. A face like youâre feeling instead of processing. You pull a face and poke it towards the stage and la-di-da we sing and dance and tumble around and all you see up here, itâs not people, you donât see people up here, itâs all fodder. And the faker the fodder is the more you love it because fake fodderâs the only thing that works anymore, fake fodder is all that we can stomach â actually not quite all. Real pain, real viciousness, that we can take. Yeah, stick a fat man up a pole and weâll laugh ourselves feral cause weâve earned the right, weâve done cell time and heâs slacking the scum so ha ha ha at him. Cause weâre so out of our minds with desperation we donât know any better. All we know is fake fodder and buying shit. Thatâs how we speak to each other, how we express ourselves is buying shit. I have a dream? The peak of our dreams is a new hat for our doppel, a hat that doesnât exist. Itâs not even there, we buy shit thatâs not even there. Show us something real and free and beautiful, you couldnât. Itâd break us, weâre too numb for it, our minds would choke. Thereâs only so much wonder we can bear, thatâs why when you find any wonder whatsoever you dole it out in meager portions, and only then til itâs augmented and packaged and pumped through ten thousand pre-assigned filters, til itâs nothing more than a meaningless series of lights, while we ride day-in, day-out â going where? Powering what? All tiny cells in tiny screens and bigger cells in bigger screens and fuck you. Fuck you, thatâs what it boils down to is fuck you. Fuck you for sitting there and slowly knitting things worse. Fuck you and your spotlight and your sanctimonious faces and fuck you all, for taking the one thing I ever came close to anything real about anything. For oozing around it and crushing it into a bone, into a joke, one more ugly joke in a kingdom of millions and then fuck you. Fuck you for happening. Fuck you for me, for us, for everyone, fuck you."