“All I see is broke beings, attempting to empty themselves in order to be someone’s perceived archetype.
It is the oldest game, be everything to everybody; maybe they will reward your fatalism. Then when that does not work and all that’s left is base concept. You’re licensed to be the next perpetrator.
So we keep on inspiring each other to be forearmed against the perpetual enemy storming the gates; looting altars to hate and sublimating our fear of the unknown with the pain of what to expect.
There is only reciprocity in mutual debasement.”
My body is a process unfolding. A process that needs room to scream, explore, moan, make messes, laugh, and speak boldly on what makes me feel good. It’s a process that demands a sex that prioritizes myself, my healing, my voice, and my consent. It’s a process that takes time and requires patience. It’s a process that demands a sex that is explorative and uninhibited, open and honest on both (or however many) ends. It’s a process that needs to be able to say ‘Fuck yes, that feels good, do it again.’ and ‘No, touch me here, like this.’
by Jacques Etienne Black and Gay Black worn shoes Beet socks with not much slack Your constant twitching eyes, your stinky feet I know I’m not the best student …
Previously: “We are dying from various reasons that range from health to hate, and we are not getting the attention at we need, nor do we give said attention to…
I had suffered so long wrestled with the fear of you dark boy finding me in my dreams and doing things that I… The fear of you would cause me…
by Christopher Williams My name is Mahir and I do not exist. I feel. I feel air and pain and heat. But I’m not here anymore. Or maybe I never…