Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Fah  Aug 2013
Untitled
Fah Aug 2013
(via phatphilosophers)

(via phatphilosophers)

(via phatphilosophers)
jeffrey-lebowski:

Untitled by Yayoi Kusama.
Acrylic on canvas, 45.5 x 38.0 cm. Signed and dated 1993
jeffrey-lebowski:
Untitled by Yayoi Kusama.
Acrylic on canvas, 45.5 x 38.0 cm. Signed and dated 1993
(via phatphilosophers)

These are the days that must happen to you.
Walt Whitman, from Leaves Of Grass (via violentwavesofemotion)
(via phatphilosophers)
18 HOURS AGO / LARMOYANTE
axiatonal:

Canola Flowers Field, China
axiatonal:
Canola Flowers Field, China
(via awaveofbliss)

(via awaveofbliss)

whatisadvertising:
What would modern technology and social networks look like if they were vintage ads
This is a post gathered Facebook, Twitter, Youtube, Skype, iMac, Nintendo Wii and Sony Playstation as if they were vintage ads.
(via thebronxisburning)
aplacetofindlife:

Someone Should Start Laughing
I have a thousand brilliant lies For the question: How are you?  I have a thousand brilliant lies For the question: What is God? If you think that the Truth can be known From words, If you think that the Sun and the Ocean Can pass through that tiny opening Called the mouth,
O someone should start laughing! Someone should start wildly Laughing Now!- Hafiz
aplacetofindlife:
Someone Should Start Laughing

I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:
How are you?

I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:
What is God?

If you think that the Truth can be known
From words,

If you think that the Sun and the Ocean
Can pass through that tiny opening Called the mouth,

O someone should start laughing!
Someone should start wildly Laughing Now!

- Hafiz
(via cosmic-rebirth)

meditationsinwonderland:
Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche, We Should All Be Feminists
How could I not reblog this?
(Source: bakongo)
1 day ago – 234,004 notes

artismyempire:
gentledom:
A wonderful analogy.
What I shall do today.
(Source: boyqueen, via thebronxisburning)
1 day ago – 30,054 notes

(Source: maryhadalittleblunt, via awaveofbliss)
1 week ago – 81 notes
beachsloth:

SYNESTHESIA by Joshua Espinoza
                God watches everyone’s first kiss. Although God used to be an awesome God He’s been a bit lazier as the years have progressed. Long ago God felt that raining frogs on Egypt was cool. People were turned into pillars of salt for looking at the destruction of their towns. Now God isn’t into that whole vengeful thing. Rather He realizes the importance of free will and understands it is more important than any instruction manual.
                Dreams are the ultimate instructional manual. Sub-conscious hates being a sub. Sub-conscious wants to be dom-conscious. Unfortunately such things do not happen anymore. Drinking dreams from people is potentially delicious. Flab is the hallmark of a family man or woman. Their dreams have become realities. Mere impulses of creatures become vaguely self-sustaining then fully self-sustaining. Right in the heart is where the familial love lives. Floaters in the eyes are more than floaters. When one sees floaters they see ghosts. Floaters are ghosts for the vision-impaired.
                Afterlife is big into God. Death brings people closer to God. They live in God’s domain hoping for the best. From on high the angels live on the down low. Beneath angels are the exciting ones, the ones they can and do mess up. Humans are interesting for their ability to mess up all the time and somehow remain completely loved. Every human is made in God’s image. Once people come back to God they realize how much of their decisions were good, how the evil was more than counterbalanced by the good. Living in Earth tends to make people forget how fortunate they really are.
                The world hates leaving people behind. In Heaven everything is fine. From Heaven people can see themselves from light-years away. Such distance makes it easier to see what the right and wrong decision was. Death takes the people away. Online presences remain long after the body has left. Everything has a digital footprint entirely different from their real life footprint. Sometimes it is bigger and sometimes smaller. It depends on the lust for life.
                Kissing is a form of lust. Lips love each other. Lips like locking together. That is where the key to the heart comes from, from the lips. Words flow from the mouths of babes. Life means the words work well but the tones work better. Even babies understand the importance of tone. Words are meaningless. Tones are tender. People wrap themselves up in tones, in the environmental sounds that surround them for that is what it means to be alive: it means to interact.
beachsloth:
SYNESTHESIA by Joshua Espinoza
                God watches everyone’s first kiss. Although God used to be an awesome God He’s been a bit lazier as the years have progressed. Long ago God felt that raining frogs on Egypt was cool. People were turned into pillars of salt for looking at the destruction of their towns. Now God isn’t into that whole vengeful thing. Rather He realizes the importance of free will and understands it is more important than any instruction manual.
                Dreams are the ultimate instructional manual. Sub-conscious hates being a sub. Sub-conscious wants to be dom-conscious. Unfortunately such things do not happen anymore. Drinking dreams from people is potentially delicious. Flab is the hallmark of a family man or woman. Their dreams have become realities. Mere impulses of creatures become vaguely self-sustaining then fully self-sustaining. Right in the heart is where the familial love lives. Floaters in the eyes are more than floaters. When one sees floaters they see ghosts. Floaters are ghosts for the vision-impaired.
                Afterlife is big into God. Death brings people closer to God. They live in God’s domain hoping for the best. From on high the angels live on the down low. Beneath angels are the exciting ones, the ones they can and do mess up. Humans are interesting for their ability to mess up all the time and somehow remain completely loved. Every human is made in God’s image. Once people come back to God they realize how much of their decisions were good, how the evil was more than counterbalanced by the good. Living in Earth tends to make people forget how fortunate they really are.
                The world hates leaving people behind. In Heaven everything is fine. From Heaven people can see themselves from light-years away. Such distance makes it easier to see what the right and wrong decision was. Death takes the people away. Online presences remain long after the body has left. Everything has a digital footprint entirely different from their real life footprint. Sometimes it is bigger and sometimes smaller. It depends on the lust for life.
                Kissing is a form of lust. Lips love each other. Lips like locking together. That is where the key to the heart comes from, from the lips. Words flow from the mouths of babes. Life means the words work well but the tones work better. Even babies understand the importance of tone. Words are meaningless. Tones are tender. People wrap themselves up in tones, in the environmental sounds that surround them for that is what it means to be alive: it means to interact.
(via bluishtigers)
1 week ago – 74 notes

(Source: samsaranmusing)
1 week ago – 78 notes
maymonsturr:

My mantra.
maymonsturr:
My mantra.
(via cosmic-rebirth)
1 week ago – 568 notes
foxxxynegrodamus:

***
foxxxynegrodamus:
***
(Source: lnpfeed, via awaveofbliss)
1 week ago – 1,635 notes
cosmic-rebirth:

Live joyfully, make your life a dance, all the way to the grave.
cosmic-rebirth:
Live joyfully, make your life a dance, all the way to the grave.
(Source: cookiecarnival)
2 weeks ago – 22,305 notes
“The point is not to pay back kindness but to pass it on.”
– Julia Alvarez (via cosmic-rebirth)
(Source: amandaonwriting, via cosmic-rebirth)
2 weeks ago – 275 notes

(Source: diawf, via awaveofbliss)
2 weeks ago – 2,799 notes
bl4ckhippie:

Fly.
bl4ckhippie:
Fly.
(Source: rootsrukkus, via awaveofbliss)
2 weeks ago – 750 notes

(Source: lizzlizzcomics, via bluishtigers)
2 weeks ago – 110,456 notes
meditationsinwonderland:

ॐ flower child in Wonderland ॐ
meditationsinwonderland:
ॐ flower child in Wonderland ॐ
(Source: vegan-hippie)
2 weeks ago – 139,177 notes

(Source: jrich103, via cosmic-rebirth)
2 weeks ago – 4,848 notes

pleoros:
Helminadia Ranford - Guilin,China
(via hungryforworld)
2 weeks ago – 329 notes
designgather:

Oak Room
Andy Goldsworthy
designgather:
Oak Room
Andy Goldsworthy
(via cosmic-rebirth)
2 weeks ago – 286 notes
miguu:
don’t be afraid.
lean into your genius.
let your own brilliance support you.
you are something
we have all been waiting to know.
please.
(via bluishtigers)
2 weeks ago – 339 notes

odditiesoflife:
Amazing Jabuticaba Tree
This is an incredible tree that bears its fruit directly on the main trunks and branches of the plant, lending a distinctive appearance to the fruiting tree. The jabuticaba (Plinia cauliflora) is a fruit-bearing tree native to Minas Gerais and São Paulo in southeastern Brazil. Otherwise known as the Brazilian Grape Tree, the jabuticaba is grown for its purplish-black, white-pulped fruits. They can be eaten raw or be used to make jellies and drinks, including juice and wine.
They are wonderful trees to have and are fairly adaptable to most environments but they grow extremely slow. Jabuticaba flowers are white and grow directly from its trunk, just like its fruit. The tree may flower and fruit only once or twice a year, but when continuously irrigated, it flowers frequently and fresh fruit can be available year round in tropical regions.
Common in Brazilian markets, jabuticabas are largely eaten fresh; their popularity has been likened to that of grapes in the US. Due to its extremely short shelf-life, fresh jabuticaba fruit is very rare in markets outside of areas of cultivation. So if you are ever in Brazil, be sure to try the incredibly tasty fruit called jabuticaba.
source 1, 2
(via hungryforworld)
2 weeks ago – 1,462 notes

(Source: samsaranmusing)
2 weeks ago – 118 notes

(Source: rorycwhatsyourthesis, via samsaranmusing)
2 weeks ago – 130,113 notes
oecologia:

Star Trails over Matterhorn (Switzerland) by Felix Lamouroux.
oecologia:
Star Trails over Matterhorn (Switzerland) by Felix Lamouroux.
(via samsaranmusing)

burningveins:
multicolors:
benskid:
Know where you stand.
Wow
This is kinda creepy..
(via hungryforworld)

Do not think you will necessarily be aware of your own enlightenment.
Zen Master Dogen - (1200- 1253) AD (via samsaranmusing)
2 WEEKS AGO
101fuymemes:

COLLECTION OF awesome CLOUDS
101fuymemes:
COLLECTION OF awesome CLOUDS
(via roslynoberholtzerbddd)

itscolossal:
Planetary Structural Layer Cakes Designed by Cakecrumbs

Do not resist events that move you out of your comfort zone, especially when your comfort zone was not all that comfortable.
Alan Cohen (via raeraenjma)
(via awaveofbliss)
4 WEEKS AGO / THE-HEALING-NEST
so apt
so apt
(via awaveofbliss)

(via awaveofbliss)
treewellie:

"The area between Kluane Lake and Haines Junction, Yukon, skirting the great cordillera of the Wrangell / St. Elias Mtn. range, is commonly productive of these stacked lenticular clouds … In late summer, as the sun begins to set around 11 PM, it’s beautiful to see these unique clouds, which are higher in altitude than their surrounding companions, catching the last peach coloured rays of the sun."
treewellie:
"The area between Kluane Lake and Haines Junction, Yukon, skirting the great cordillera of the Wrangell / St. Elias Mtn. range, is commonly productive of these stacked lenticular clouds … In late summer, as the sun begins to set around 11 PM, it’s beautiful to see these unique clouds, which are higher in altitude than their surrounding companions, catching the last peach coloured rays of the sun."
definitelydope:

BBQ on the balcony (by fernlicht)
definitelydope:
BBQ on the balcony (by fernlicht)
(via awaveofbliss)

Birth by Alex Grey
Birth by Alex Grey
(via receptive)

(via bluishtigers)

(via awaveofbliss)

There is a time and place for decaf coffee. Never and in the trash.
(via 17yr)
(via hungryforworld)
1 MONTH AGO / MIDWESTRAISEDMIDWESTLIVING
surreelust:

Man with His Skin by Peter Zokosky
surreelust:
Man with His Skin by Peter Zokosky
(via cosmic-rebirth)

Oh soul,
you worry too much.
You have seen your own strength.
You have seen your own beauty.
You have seen your golden wings.
Of anything less,
why do you worry?
You are in truth
the soul, of the soul,
of the soul.
Rumi, from Who Am I?   (via bluishtigers)
(via bluishtigers)
1 MONTH AGO / VIOLENTWAVESOFEMOTION
xpudding:

xpudding:
(via cosmic-rebirth)

(via thebronxisburning)

(via cosmic-rebirth)
treewellie:

La costa de la luz by Francisco Mingorance
treewellie:
La costa de la luz by Francisco Mingorance

itscolossal:
Mirror City: A Kaleidoscopic Timelapse of Chicago, San Francisco, San Diego, Vegas and L.A. [VIDEO]

(via cosmic-rebirth)

awkwardsituationist:
gmb akash documents the 350 kilometre journey from dhaka to sylhet, bangladesh made by those who, unable to afford the price of a ticket or find room to ride inside, risk death by traveling atop and between train cars
(via suntochukwu)
purpleaggregates:

White Tara The female enlightened being of long life, wisdom and good fortune When I see the signs of untimely death, May I immediately receive the blessings of Arya Tara; And, having destroyed the Lord of Death, May I quickly attain the deathless vajra body. OM TARE TUTTARE TURE MAMA AYUR PUNAYE GYANA PUTRIM KURU YE SÖHA OM TARE TUTTARE TURE SÖHA
purpleaggregates:
White Tara
The female enlightened being of long life, wisdom and good fortune

When I see the signs of untimely death,
May I immediately receive the blessings of Arya Tara;
And, having destroyed the Lord of Death,
May I quickly attain the deathless vajra body.

OM TARE TUTTARE TURE MAMA AYUR PUNAYE GYANA PUTRIM KURU YE SÖHA
OM TARE TUTTARE TURE SÖHA
(via dancingdakini)

(via guerrillatech)
hungryforworld:

Monet’s Garden. Givery, France.
hungryforworld:
Monet’s Garden. Givery, France.

(via awaveofbliss)

(via cosmic-rebirth)

Internal and external are ultimately one. When you no longer perceive the world as hostile, there is no more fear, and when there is no more fear, you think, speak and act differently. Love and compassion arise, and they affect the world.
Eckhart Tolle (via samsaranmusing)
(via suntochukwu)
1 MONTH AGO / SAMSARANMUSING
malformalady:

The golden spiral of fungus. In geometry, a golden spiral is a logarithmic spiral whose growth factor is φ, the golden ratio. That is, a golden spiral gets wider (or further from its origin) by a factor of φ for every quarter turn it makes.
Photo credit: Devin Raber
malformalady:
The golden spiral of fungus. In geometry, a golden spiral is a logarithmic spiral whose growth factor is φ, the golden ratio. That is, a golden spiral gets wider (or further from its origin) by a factor of φ for every quarter turn it makes.
Photo credit: Devin Raber
(via deeperthansoul)
polaroidsf:

Welcome to Eden
polaroidsf:
Welcome to Eden

(via bouddra)

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of
meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for
your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
JJ Hutton Feb 2013
six-inch heels abandoned
in lampless corner       grimy pennies embedded in carpet

rent's due

wedding band girl "fab polka dot frocks"
waterfalling past knees        outta place
on casino bus destined for rest under Ft. Worth stars
now, now    ******* borealis speckled dice

true love waits

socialite lip balm and bourgeoisie hips compete
in bidding war over which black face triggerpulls
which black face eyes the ground
passerby the red light      the green light
all night diner    egg on chin   coffee-stained porcelain   teeth

"I forgave, I think. I forget."

crowded and paranoid in the left lane    the right lane
empty and weak and surrender and soiled underwear in ammonia nursing home
children is a word     time is a lie the polka dot and the interstate ain't selling
divorce the consequence of acoustic shadows

reblog   undo   #sotrue    reblog

living through x-ray radiotherapy the dotted gown
never the veiny calves or the blush or the eyeliner
somewhere in North Texas shawtys are in the club
shawtys are backin' it up    shawtys are dropin' it down

hit me+hit me+hit me=blackjack mishap

the marvel of the wind and of wind turbines
cognac decade brides     the epitome of class and natural elegance
standing like oil derricks and treated like oil wells
so secretive and philanthropic

this taxon remains nameless

casino turned dance hall   dance hall   skinny ties still a thing
this wine is good. is it a merlot?    no.    this is purely recreational
for birthdays   for weddings    and Ft. Worth missionaries
10-50 passengers   we've got 53, no 54 #hahahaha #whoops #party

who needs unprescribed drugs? me, me (!)

decomposing mascara sweat on brow the interstate no longer lit
polka dots has got the suicide by Manet pulled up
on her iPhone the financial stress   which shudders warm-blooded moms
on her lips    every mother a librarian   every mother a swing-pusher

but digression    next to bitterness   the lowest sin

edging the cultural gateway of the old west
miracles in and miracles out of tradition following
the slender bends of middle ancient Trinity River
children a word   pattycake a game

and time   time a lie we left to museum panoramas
mori  Dec 2015
AUTHENTICITY IS
mori Dec 2015
the quality of being authentic
(AUTHENTIC IS)
(
of undisputed origin; genuine*)
messy buns a little bit too messy to be pretty, hair falling all over
a camera held loosely, fingers easily finding the record or picture button by muscle memory
years of bad relived in words spilling out to another entity for need of connection and know
pacing back and forth, staring at walls, and misplaced hand gestures all while talking to yourself
what too many people crave for so bad
what turns stale when too many people crave it so bad
stale
found 75 pages deep into a blog found from someones reblog of anothers' reblog at midnight
drunk like sleepiness, the slightly tipsy shitpost on the verge of deep conversation
open skype calls with gritty laptop cameras and headphones, talking talking talking
waking up at 3 am and writing something down immediately so as to not forget it
post dinner midnight snack cereal
"i don't really know how i am. how about you, how are you?"
talking to your dog
this rlly isn't poetry, just a list of things i find authentic
Cat Fiske May 2015
hello.
my name is Catherine but I go by cat.
I make videos, and help out a lot with audio for others,
but I have never recorder one of my own poems.
So, this sounds kinda odd,
But I'd love it if someone could maybe help me find a few good poems,
That I wrote,
To record and upload.
Just audio for now,
I'd also be very open to those ideas for an actual video to go with it,
but I'd like for people to of helped from this site,
And I'll give credit-shout outs,
to everyone who helped,
even in a little way.
Thank you.
-Cat c: :3
yeah So I'll make a collection people can join it, the collection is called Record. and yeah just drop things in there if you like them.
C S Cizek Nov 2014
I suckled my mother's Bluetooth breast
while my father built me a bassinet
of series circuits with high, motherboard
bars.
I've got that artificial baby glow.
But Mom put my ****** on Facebook
at four weeks and I still haven't re-friended
(forgiven) her. My upgrade's in nine months,
but I want my downgrade now
'cause all I get are social invite excuses
from Facebook fuckfaces. We pack
our lives into little boxes that we're
not even allowed to open.
We drink to technology, keep our lazy
eyes on our news feeds, and recycle
ideas like their owners would even
want to see what we've done to them.
We misquote Confucius and credit ourselves
with mangled Robert Frost stanzas.

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I think
it's awesome that Pepsi used to be blue."

Reblog, revine,
retweet, FaceTime.
Folding chair fold-out on someone's lawn.
White-out Yeats, Keats, Byron, and Auden,
and write John ******* or Tom Whatever.
We're caught in the chicken wire of an LCD
fruit basket so neat, orderly, and brushed
aluminum. How can people write in Starbucks?
S
   B  
       U  
            X
B  
     S
The cooler's too ******, music's too shy,
and the sugar, no, not just the sugar.
THE PEOPLE are too artificial.
The carpet-suit inlay I'm standing
on has pencil lead, sock lint,
and receipt shred lapel pins.
Even corporations play dress-up.

But what happens when Y2K kicks
in tomorrow?
Lives will be lost even before
the missiles **** us.
And the planes that drop
from the sky won't even come close
to when the bough breaks your little
girl's heart, baby, because your phone
can't raise her anymore, so you have to.

And based on your search history,
tweets, and recorded dreams,
she's better off in the warm
embrace of a hard drive.
The poem for my Color & Design final.
GloriouslyFlawed  May 2013
Words
GloriouslyFlawed May 2013
It’s not enough now for my words to be written
They must be pretty, and witty, and bright.
The words themselves matter less each day
With each reblog, retweet and like.

It’s not enough now for my words to have meaning
They must be relatable, heart-wrenching and fierce.
The words themselves are being lost
With each glance, dismissal and worse.

It’s not enough now for my words to mean something
They must be have rhythm, or rhyme, and more.
The words themselves are unimportant
With that truth I take flight and soar.
eli Feb 2014
large hearts swell, with brown
eyes full of love; two sets fought,
leave earth far too soon.

~ ~ ~
sunday night, in fruitland township, michigan, two pit bulls were found lying dead on the side of the road near an elementary school. a man by the name of joe weaver found the dogs and covered their bodies so that children wouldn’t see them on their way to school. the link leads to his facebook page — which is open to the public — where he has been keeping everyone up to date about the dogs. when he found them last night, there were no footprints in the snow, suggesting that the dogs were most likely thrown out of a car and left to die, if they weren’t dead already. we believe the dogs may have been used to fight, and they were underfed.

my mother contacted mlive, WZZM 13 (the grand rapids affiliate of ABC news), pound buddies, and woodTV 8. two of her friends who don’t even live in michigan contacted muskegon police, giving anonymous info about the incident. over the course of the night and early this morning, this story has popped up on WZZM13, and has been mentioned on local animal rescue facebook pages. a news caster even posted on a facebook page that this case is currently undergoing investigation.

i want this to get spread around in hopes that whoever did this can be caught, and we can get some justice for these poor babies. no animal deserves this treatment. today, after joe weaver found them he decided to name them “moody” and “george”, after the military base he served at. he is hoping to get the bodies back after autopsy, so he can give them a respectful burial.

please, please, if you can, reblog this and spread it around. even if you don’t live in west michigan, or michigan at all, please get the word out so we can find whoever is responsible. if social media is good for anything, despite all its toxicity, it’s stuff like this.

(you can reblog the post here: http://blackcr0wking.tumblr.com/post/77718225228/if-everyone-could-please-spread-this-around-i )
(c) shiloh renee 2014
GloriouslyFlawed  May 2013
Words
GloriouslyFlawed May 2013
It’s not enough now for my words to be written
They must be pretty, and witty, and bright.
The words themselves matter less each day
With each reblog, retweet and like.

It’s not enough now for my words to have meaning
They must be relatable, heart-wrenching and fierce.
The words themselves are being lost
With each glance, dismissal and worse.

It’s not enough now for my words to mean something
They must be have rhythm, or rhyme, and more.
The words themselves are unimportant
With that truth I take flight and soar.
Quinn Oct 2011
oh you are all so *******
good and ******* righteous
with your Facebook statuses
and tweets and blogs
that you pour your hearts into
reposting better men's works and words
cowering behind a screen
that hides the fact that you've
resigned your life to nothing
but giving others the publicity
that should have been yours

perhaps the more pathetic
thing is that we live in a world
where this is acceptable
and the norm
where people are given the ability
to like, and reblog, and comment
instead of actually making contact
and establishing relationships
"**** it, if i want to talk to you,
i don't actually have to talk to you!"

and here i am, the eternal hypocrite
writing a ******* poem on my macbook pro
that i'll post to a poetry forum
so i can get off on all of the likes, reads, and comments
it collects

i mean,
who the **** am i if nobody else tells me who i am?
- Jul 2016
You said, in small text:

<p>OKAY. Let’s talk about this. </p>

<p>✨CW: transphobia, mental health stuff, strong language✨</p>

<p>[Reblog the hell out of this post. It’s about to be important].</p>

<p>I woke up this morning to my girlfriend, my partner-in-crime, my best friend, my favorite bean, sending me this photo. She couldn’t believe that it was real and thought that I was playing some sick joke. </p>

<p>Good ******* morning. </p>

<p>Listen up, whoever you are, you entitled little ****. Your opinions, attractions, desires, whatever they are - they DO NOT MATTER. Assuming, based on the context of your post, that you identify as a guy, let me just say this: </p>

<p>You are a small man. You’re using the guise of anonymity to objectify a radiant woman whose depth and breadth you can’t ever begin to comprehend - and I’m not just saying that because she’s mine. You’re also transphobic as **** - and clearly don’t understand that trans-ness and genitalia are actually (and often) far removed from each other. </p>

<p>I’d like to think that I don’t need to explain why the comment “your girl ain’t a girl no more” (in addition to being grammatically terrible) is NOT acceptable, but in case I do, here is MY two cents on the matter of MYSELF. </p>

<p>I fought for this body. I bled for this consciousness, I shined light into places in me that I didn’t know existed and found depression, dysphoria, trauma, and loads of anxiety. I nearly died for this body. If it hadn’t been for a select few people who saw me for the love I was worth, I wouldn’t be alive to write this post. That’s not an exaggeration, it’s a fact. </p>

<p>I’m telling you, stranger, this because there is more behind your words than you know. Each time you take your privilege and cishetero advantage for granted and allow misguided, bigoted words to fall out of your disgusting face-hole or fingertips, you’re reminding me of how I almost died for this body and consciousness. How my girlfriend and countless others like us have been subject to vast physical and mental torment for our queerness, our trans-ness, our SELVES.</p>

<p>I’m addressing you not as you, but as the mass of people you represent. I’m posting this on behalf of the 22 trans people who were murdered last year because of ignorance like yours. I’m posting this on behalf of feminine-identified people everywhere who deal with the wrath of objectification, sexism, and violence that your very actions embody and permit. </p>

<p>
Number 44.

This is a coded copy of a draft written awhile ago, see the previous poem for context.

— The End —