Re: sailors on USS Abraham Lincoln on half rations.

gracie abrams

let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
cherry valley forever
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
occasionally subtle

ellievsbear
𓃗
untitled
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Kiana Khansmith
Fai_Ryy
ojovivo

Origami Around
Phantogram Three
d e v o n
tumblr dot com
Claire Keane

seen from Philippines
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Italy

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Indonesia
seen from Netherlands

seen from Australia

seen from United Kingdom
seen from India

seen from Brazil
seen from Barbados
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
seen from Paraguay
@spinningyarns
Re: sailors on USS Abraham Lincoln on half rations.

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 • No registration required • HD streaming
I used to think “soupçon” was a French word for crouton and I used it as the French word for crouton for a long time and nobody stopped me.
Soupçon actually means “suspicion” and the reason nobody called me out on this is because I would use the word to imply the idea of something sprinkled on top of something else ala croutons. If someone said, “A soupçon of homoeroticism,” I thought it meant “Someone sprinkled homoeroticism on this story like croutons on a delightful Caesar salad.”
I wrote multiple essays that used soupçon as a noun with this translation in mind and I got a degree and this haunts me.
There’s no point to this post, it’s just very important to me that you know that I can be quite stupid
Practical Magic by Alice Hoffman
In honor of the Ides of March, my favorite Tiktok
"Oh, not you as well, Brutus!" in that voice is the best translation of 'Et tu, Brute?' I've ever heard.

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 • No registration required • HD streaming
oh my goodness, one of dian fossey’s first close up observations with gorillas happened when she was trying to climb a tree to see them better, but so badly that by the time she’d gotten up the entire group had come out of hiding to look at her: “Nearly all members of the group had totally exposed themselves, forgetting about hiding coyly behind foliage screens because it was obvious to them that the observer had been distracted by tree-climbing problems, an activity they could understand.”
hello, fellow apes
The lead up to that sentence is gold:
[Image transcript: porch. The group had been day-nesting and sunbathing when I contacted them, but upon my approach they nervously retreated to obscure themselves behind thick foliage. Frustrated but determined to see them better, I decided to climb a tree, not one of my better talents. The tree was particularly slithery and, try as I might, no amount of puffing, pulling, gripping, or clawing succeeded in getting me more than a few feet aboveground. Disgustedly, I was about to give up when Sanwekwe came to my aid by giving one mighty boost to my protruding rump; tears were running from his eyes as he was convulsed in silent laughter. I felt as inept as a baby taking its first step. Finally able to grab on to a conveniently placed branch, I hauled myself up into a respectful semislouch position in the tree about twenty feet from the ground. By this time I naturally assumed that the combined noises of panting, cursing, and branch-breaking made during the initial climbing attempts must have frightened the group on to the next mountain. I was amazed to look around and find that the entire group had returned and were sitting like front row spectators at a sideshow. All that was needed to make the image complete were a few gorilla-sized bags of popcorn and some cotton candy! This was the first live audience I had ever had in my life and certainly the least expected.]
imagine some freakish not-a-human alien THING has shown up out of nowhere and is trying to get into your office building to study you. but it has no idea how to get past a revolving door. it tries for three hours. by the time it finally understands the concept of a revolving door and squeeze into the building everyone in the office is crowded into the lobby to watch and call helpful suggestions. it’s conclusively determined that the alien is definitely not a threat, except maybe to itself.
Addition approved
"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

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 • No registration required • HD streaming
“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
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

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 • No registration required • HD streaming
our longing for inconvenience by hanif abdurraqib (id in alt)
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