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gerry (2002, dir. gus van sant) / battle for the sun by placebo / my own private idaho (1991, dir. gus van sant)

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What's that poem about the cockroach and the moth where the cockroach is like "I wish I've ever wanted anything the way that moth wanted to burn itself up in that lantern" because we had to read that in high school and it still fucks me up to this day

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Lake Burlinskoye Location: Altai Krai, Western Siberia

Lake Burlinskoye is a pink lake in Siberia with a train that runs through it. The train collects sediment from the lake bed using harvesting tools, as a part of a salt harvesting operation dating back to 1768. This method yields 65,000 tons of salt each year.

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Sunrise, Louise Glück

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yessss feminism

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art by Seth Tobochman

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Chaos Dissection Order (2007) - Inhume Cover art by Misja Baas

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Candy Chang

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Jessica Bartram

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what about the reshaping of modern technology, by the human body?

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"If It's Sex You're Looking For..." Designed by Judith Johnson for Hallmark, 1971. Archived from The Peculiar Manicule.

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finally finished the comic based on the post by @rollercoasterwords

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but! we! cannot! simply! sit! and! stare! at! our! wounds! forever!

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to you, it's a shitty sentence. to some random bitch 500 miles away, it's a fire line that'll haunt them for the next 17 years.

you don't know how impactful your writing is because it's been in your brain for far too long now. you've stared at it for hours and repeated "this sucks" over and over again to the point that you killed your capacity to feel anything about your work.

but trust me, once you get your shit out there, someone's gonna go over that paragraph you hate and go "jesus fucking christ" and put the book down to have an existential crisis.

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Goose Shit by Evil Mary Oliver Who Lives in Your Head

You do have to be good. In fact, you have to be perfect. Having even one perturbation will disqualify you from going to the grocery store. You are obligated to walk on your knees  for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting, backwards, in underwear made of red-hot puff adders. You can't let that soft, fallible animal of your body love what it loves.   Are you kidding? Tell me about despair, yours, and keep telling me, and don't stop, or you'll completely explode and go to jail, and then hell. Meanwhile the world goes on without you. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of hailstones are beating down on your head, pouring into the buildings and deep gutters, the corpse-laden mountains and the rivers-- did you read that article about the one that turned bright yellow from pollution? Meanwhile the wild geese, hissing and shitting everywhere will not leave your yard. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, you can always get lonelier! And I can help. I call to you like the wild geese, harsh and intimidating, over and over announcing your place-- oop, sorry, never mind, someone else took it.