sheepfilms

Game Changer & Make Some Noise
The Stonewall Inn
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

#extradirty
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

tannertan36
cherry valley forever
★

if i look back, i am lost

PR's Tumblrdome
Misplaced Lens Cap
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Doug Jones
Mike Driver
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

@theartofmadeline
seen from Bolivia

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seen from Israel
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Brazil
seen from Brazil
seen from Tunisia
seen from Ukraine
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seen from Ukraine
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seen from Malaysia
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@spinningyarns

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"You can't love others/nobody else can love you until you love yourself" isn't strictly true, but people say it because the thing they're getting at that IS true -- which you can roughly summarize as, "if you commit to being a complete unchecked void of self-loathing, you will inevitably alienate people who love you" -- sounds even meaner.
Migraine sufferers will be like "it's not like I'm disabled or anything, it's just that if I do any of these normal everyday things other people do all the time, my head explodes. But I'm fine honestly, as long as I avoid doing anything ever and my environment and the weather never changes, then my head explodes a little less"
why go to the grocery store or to a restaurant when you can just get food delivered why go to the mall when you can get same day shipping on amazon why go to the library when you have kindle why make art when there’s ai why go to the cinema when you can stay at home and watch netflix. we are in a loneliness epidemic btw
the loneliness epidemic was invented by BIG SHIT to sell you more SHIT
“The daily routine of most adults is so heavy and artificial that we are closed off to much of the world. We have to do this in order to get our work done. I think one purpose of art is to get us out of those routines. When we hear music or poetry or stories, the world opens up again. We’re drawn in — or out — and the windows of our perception are cleansed, as William Blake said. The same thing can happen when we’re around young children or adults who have unlearned those habits of shutting the world out.”
— Ursula K. Le Guin

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Worte sind Luft. Aber die Luft wird zum Wind und Wind macht die Schiffe segeln.
Words are air. But air becomes wind, and wind makes ships sail.
Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (1729 – 1781), German poet
Also… caring about being the hottest person anywhere is sooo vapid and uninspirational to me. why are you surveying yourself like that? how are you caged when you have the key??? Time 2 Open That Cell Girl. Free Yourself…
like john berger said “a woman must continually watch herself. she is almost continually accompanied by her own image of herself. whilst she is walking across a room or whilst she is weeping at the death of her father, she can scarcely avoid envisaging herself walking or weeping. from earliest childhood she has been taught and persuaded to survey herself continually. and so she comes to consider the surveyor and the surveyed within her as the two constituent yet always distinct elements of her identity as a woman. she has to survey everything she is and everything she does because how she appears to men, is of crucial importance for what is normally thought of as the success of her life. her own sense of being in herself is supplanted by a sense of being appreciated as herself by another....one might simplify this by saying: men act and women appear. men look at women. women watch themselves being looked at. this determines not only most relations between men and women but also the relation of women to themselves. the surveyor of woman in herself is male: the surveyed female. thus she turns herself into an object -- and most particularly an object of vision: a sight.”
A Sea-Port is a pleasant place for a soul worn out with life’s struggles. The wide expanse of sky, the mobile clouds, the ever changing colors of the sea, the flashing beams of the light-houses form a prism marvelously designed to gladden, without ever tiring the eye. The ships with their long slim lines and complicated rigging that so gracefully ride the swells, serve to keep alive in the soul a taste for rhythm and beauty. And, above all, for the man who has lost all curiosity, all ambition, there is a sort of mysterious and aristocratic pleasure in watching, as he reclines in the belvedere or leans on the mole, all the bustle of people leaving, of people returning, people who still have enough energy to have desires, who still desire to voyage, who still desire to get rich.
Charles Baudelaire, "Sea-Ports", Paris Spleen, translation by Louise Varèse
"This is why girls are so much more employable than young men in all the shitty, less-than-subsistence-level service jobs they’re trying to cram young people into across Europe and America. Girls are better at pleasing other people and plastering on the pretty grin even when we’re screaming inside. That’s what being a girl is. Girls are better at this sort of labour, often called ‘emotional labour’, not because there’s anything in the meat and matter of our living cells that makes us naturally better but because we’re trained to it from birth. Trained to make other people feel good. Trained to serve the coffee, fill in the forms, organise the parties and wipe the table afterwards. Trained to be feisty, if we must, but not strong. To be bubbly, not funny. You must at no stage appear to have a body that functions in a normal human way, that pisses and shits and sweats and farts and falters. Decorate the prison of your body. Make yourself useful. Shut up and smile."
- Laurie Penny, Unspeakable Things: Sex, Lies and Revolution
our longing for inconvenience by hanif abdurraqib (id in alt)

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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I first encounter this poem in 2011, but it wrote itself on my heart, and when I found it again ... it was so perfectly Jean Prouvaire.
(on that note, I highly recommend researching the Misty Poets and the political movement at that time, because their work in general is stunning)
Testament (Declaration) by Bei Dao
translation by Bonnie S. McDougall
Perhaps the final hour is come
I have left no testament
Only a pen, for my mother
I am no hero
In an age without heroes
I just want to be a man
The still horizon
Divides the ranks of the living and the dead
I can only choose the sky
I will not kneel on the ground
Allowing the executioners to look tall
The better to obstruct the wind of freedom
From star-like bullet holes shall flow
A blood-red dawn
Joy Sullivan, from “These Days People Are Really Selling Me On California”, Instructions for Traveling West
Tracy K. Smith, from “Don’t You Wonder, Sometimes?”, Life on Mars
Swimming, One Day in August by Mary Oliver
You know how we call things "pseudoscience"... the media analysis that's being done on twitter and tumblr should be pseudohumanities
Hey can you guys reblog Cheeseburger so he can take a sunbeam nap on lots of blogs. No other reason I just want you guys to see him.

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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i like to see men from the 19th century in a situation
Karin Hosono - Wind