For our own private reasons
We live in each other for an hour.
Stranger, I take your body and its seasons,
Aware the moon has gone a little sour
For us. The moon hangs up there like a stone
Shaken out of its proper setting.
We lie down in each other. We lie down alone
and watch the moon’s flawed marble getting
Out of hand. What are the dead doing tonight?
The padlocks of their tongues embrace the black,
Each syllable locked in place, tucked out of sight.
Even this moon could never pull them back,
Even if it held them in its arms
And weighed them down with stones,
Took them entirely on their own terms
And piled the orchard’s blossom on their bones.
I am aware of your body and its dangers.
I spread my cloak for you in leafy weather
Where other fugitives and other strangers
Will put their mouths together.
It doesn’t make sense to call ourselves ugly. Because we don’t really see ourselves. We don’t watch ourselves sleeping in bed , curled up and silent with chest rising and falling with our own rhythm. We don’t see ourselves reading a book, eyes fluttering and glowing. You don’t see yourself looking at someone with love and care inside your heart. There’s no mirror in your way when you’re laughing and smiling and happiness is leaking out of you. You would know exactly how bright and beautiful you are if you saw yourself in the moments where you are truly yourself.
- (via musclemartini)
How about this-
I need feminism because I am only one person, and no matter how loud I might be there are only so many people I can tell to fuck off. I need feminism not for myself, but for everyone who hasn’t found their voice yet and for everyone that’s been shouted down too many times. I need feminism not because I am a victim but because people treat me like one.
You don’t have to call it feminism if that word bothers you. Call it egalitarianism instead. It’s about equal rights for all people. No matter what.
Every man is the builder of a temple, called his body, to the god he worships, after a style purely his own, nor can he get off by hammering marble instead. We are all sculptors and painters, and our material is our own flesh and blood and bones. Any nobleness begins at once to refine a man’s features, any meanness or sensuality to imbrute them.
- —Henry David Thoreau, Walden (1862)
People that give homejobs, have homejobs, defend homejobs, and really have anything to do with homejobs other than being a professional artist and covering them need to s t o p.
friendly reminder that:
- you are not weak if you want meds for your disorder
- you are not weak if you relapse once
- you are not weak if you relapse a thousand times
- you are not weak if some kinds of therapy don’t work for you
- you are not weak if some kinds of meds don’t work for you
- you are not weak if you have a mental disorder.
It’s okay to say “no” if you change your mind. We allow you to change majors and change direction and change clothes, with no repercussions other than possibly wasted time. If his touch is too forceful and his breath too hot and his weight too much, you are not bound to your previous decision. If your mimd is screaming and your nerves are sizzling, they are as valid then and now as they were five minutes ago, when you were saying yes.
It’s okay to say “no” if you were flirting. Batted eyelashes and sly smirks and witty words do not form a map to your uncharted territory. Your playfulness does not relieve them of their self control. Your allure does not diminish their responsibility to be respectful. The only path you led them on is that of the unknown, of which the rules of the road still apply.
It’s okay to say “no” if you’re unsure.
It’s okay to say “no” if you’re embarrassed.
It’s okay to say “no” when they tell you it isn’t okay to say “no.”