Give A Man A Horse He’ll Eat For A Day Teach A Man To Horse And Make Him Drinks Water

girl what's wrong? are you experiencing the sylvia plath fig tree in your head again?

Hey. Hey you. The person aimlessly scrolling, stuck in an immobilized standoff with your brain

It's not your fault. You won't be stuck forever. I know you're trying. I know you hate it. It's ok.

And tell the Mean Voice in your head that it's not helping. It knows as well as you do that you would get up and Just Start the task if you could. You're not doing this on purpose.

Take a deep breath. Relax your jaw. I see you trying so hard to break out of it, but you can't force it. You'll get Unstuck eventually. All you can do in the interim is be kind to yourself.

Was explaining some gender things to a straight cis friend today vis a vis gender presentation VS gender identity when it suddenly dawned on me with much the same horror as getting to work and realizing you left the stove on, that unless you've been immersed in a queer culture for some time you'd have no way of knowing that appearing androgynous/indeterminate/wildly gender-nonconforming is HOT

I used to have public sex all the time. Back in the 90s there was no internet or after school programs for lgbtq kids. We'd go up bull tail holler and on the back side of the reservoir there was a rundown poorly maintained picnic pavilion and playground and that's where all the queers that weren't old enough to go to the one gay bar in the county I lived in would hang out. And it was colloquially called queer holler in fact. It was in the holler right next to the mall so you could just have your parents drop you at the mall or catch the bus if you lived in town. We'd hangout there and have sex and make out and what have you. Every now and then the law would raid it and wouldn't you know the kids and young adults they could round up would be charged with public indecency and contributing to the delinquency of minors because 18 is 18 and other public sex charges. Of course in the process you would be outed to your parents and if you were over 18 you got your name printed in the newspaper in the police blotter which is fun (not really). So yeah I'm all in favor of legalizing public sex. Because though we've came a long way there are still a lot of queer youth who have no where to fuck their partner and being labeled as a sex offender shouldn't be a consequence of doing what millions of cishet teenagers and young adults do all the time.

it’s me i’m the survivor

Uriel really is just a kid smashing two barbies into each other face first trying to get them to kiss

Love and Nature (Pt. 2)

The forest nymphs were the first to find her. The rising sun painting her skin a brilliant, deep gold underneath the vibrant greens of the stems and leaves, and delicate white of fresh blooms sparsely covering her form. The god's chest rose and fell slowly as she laid sprawled across the forest floor, as if asleep. The nymphs, simply relieved that the poor god was no longer weeping, left her to sleep. Osdea was not asleep. How could she sleep with the ceaseless, creeping pain inside her chest? As the nymphs left, tears escaped and trickled down their familiar path over her skin and in between the new flowers. The nymphs returned at sundown, and still Osdea appeared to be sleeping. The white flowers from before now more thoroughly covering her, and new flowers blooming at the edges of her face, there was very little of the god that was left untouched now. Small pin-pricks of blood scattered across her body where the flowers weaved their way through her skin. Still, the nymphs left Osdea to her slumber. Still, Osdea was not asleep. She was paralyzed, as if the flowers had taken root in her muscles, rendering them completely useless. If nothing else, the whites and greens of the flowers and their stems, set against the dimming light of the falling sun brought some small glimmer of happiness to the sorrowful god. 'Perhaps,' thought the god 'this is the true nature of life; holding onto the smallest glimmer of hope and joy, no matter the cost.' Tears welled along her eyes once again, now hidden beneath a thin layer of foliage.

Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.

"I would kill for you. I would die for you" would you take a break for me? Would you sit down and rest? For a day, a week, a year? Would you let others take care of your needs for me? Would you let yourself be held for me? By me?

Rhapsody of Northern Lights (x x x x x)