’Impact’, thrown vessel by Olivier Maximilian
Acquired Stardust

Discoholic 🪩

ellievsbear
Cosimo Galluzzi
noise dept.
One Nice Bug Per Day
Xuebing Du

Kiana Khansmith
NASA
cherry valley forever
🪼
Keni
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Andulka
Cosmic Funnies
tumblr dot com
i don't do bad sauce passes
Today's Document
taylor price
YOU ARE THE REASON

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@semihumanbeing
’Impact’, thrown vessel by Olivier Maximilian

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(1) Thom Browne (f/w 2024), (2) Schiaparelli (f/w 2022), (3) Roberto Cavalli (f/w 2000), (4) Schiaparelli (f/w 2021), (5) Iris van Herpen (f/w 2011), (6) Olivier Theyskens (f/w 1998)
ruth st. denis’s jewelled hands
one for april—
the night you kissed him for the first time,
i spilled a rum & coke on your carpet.
i scrubbed at it, but it was as hopeless
as trying to scrub the living blood
out of my flesh.
fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s ‘i am an observer, but not by choice.’
[text id: i often asked myself / do i want love / or do i want proof that i am loveable?]

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Ayaki Nao | Elisabeth (Takarazuka, 2005)
blood cast in resin
Meeting the Man: James Baldwin in Paris(1970) dir. Terence Dixon
Kyla Jamieson, “I Need A Poem,” in Body Count [ID in ALT]
attributed to Thomas Rooke (Burne-Jones’ assistant), after Edward Burne-Jones, Design for Christ Enthroned in the Heavenly Jerusalem, in the American Church in Rome

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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Kimono (Kosode), Japan, 1840-1860
Even as I stood there this looked fictional.
September and November, looking across the lake from the same spot.
ocean vuong talking about how he/him pronouns make him feel and how his gender is... literally so fucking true shout out to that guy he gets it
this from the paris review + his poem "beautiful short loser"
[Image ID: two screenshots of the linked paris review article titled "Reimagining Masculinity":
Years later, in another life, before giving a reading, the organizer asked me for my preferred pronouns. I never knew I had a choice. “He/him” I said, after a pause, suddenly unsure. But I felt a door had opened—if only slightly—and through it I had glimpsed a path I had not known existed. There was a way out.
But what if I don’t want to leave this room yet, but just make it bigger? Pronouns like they/them are, to my trans friends and family, a refuge—a destination secured through flight and self-agency. They/them pronouns allow an interface where one can quickly code oneself as nonnormative, in the hopes of bypassing the pain and awkwardness of explanation or the labor of legibility when simply existing can be exhausting. Would I, by changing pronouns, appropriate myself into a space others need in order to survive?
As a war refugee, I know how vital a foothold as small as a word can be. And since as a cis-presenting male, I don’t need to flee he-ness in order to be seen as myself, I will stay here. Can the walls of masculinity, set up so long ago through decrees of death and conquest, be breached, broken, recast—even healed? I am, in other words, invested in troubling he-ness. I want to complicate, expand, and change it by being inside it. And I am here for the very reasons why I feel, on bad days, I should leave it altogether: that I don’t recognize myself within its dominant ranks—but I believe it can grow to hold me better. Perhaps one day, masculinity might become so myriad, so malleable, it no longer needs a fixed border to recognize itself. It might not need to be itself at all. I wonder if that, too, is the queering of a space? I wonder if boys can ever bandage each other’s feet, in friendship, without a password...
End ID.]
Strawberry Hill House—a Gothic Revival villa that was built in Twickenham, London 1749
came across this sentence today and now i know what he meant
(x)
Meanwhile, in an alleyway in Naples

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“As you read a book word by word and page by page, you participate in its creation, just as a cellist playing a Bach suite participates, note by note, in the creation, the coming-to-be, the existence, of the music. And, as you read and re-read, the book of course participates in the creation of you, your thoughts and feelings, the size and temper of your soul.”
— Ursula K. Le Guin
life isn't unliveable it's just december life isn't unliveable it's just december life isn't unliveable it's just december life isn't unliveable it's just december life isn't unliveable it's just december life isn't unliveable it's