still just as sure!

booty shorts that say “it's not me, it's you actually, it's the taxidermy of you and me untie the balloons from around my neck and ground me i’m just a racehorse on the track send me back to the glue factory always thought i'd float away and never come back but i've got enough miles on my card to fly the boys home on my own but you know me i like being all alone and keeping you all alone and the charts are boring and the kids are snoring and my ego’s in a sling you say you're not listening and i said i'm wishing and i said, i said” on the ass

I don’t have a body…I am a body….I don’t own my body….my body is me

not 2 be fake deep but…capitalism commodifies everything, even the self. You think about your body as though you are outside of it. You assign a value to it based on how well it can help you move thru the world. I stand outside of myself saying “at least this body is still young, at least this face is still beautiful. These are things that will help me make it.” Your body becomes a thing. But the whole time your body has been you, and so you become a thing.

not to be dramatic but i need to get fucked