dialectical-material-gworl - Tumblr blog

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[dialectical-material-gworl]

"Be Gay, Do Crimes.

Be Trans Ride Trams ( advocate for free public transport)"

Seen in Dublin, Ireland

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The David Hockney's Pool with two figures and Bojack's death connection is talked a lot. Bojack Horseman's madness as drowning is a theme that is recurring throughout the series. Bojack recognises this himself in the Free Churro by saying

My mother, she knew what it's like to feel your entire life like you're drowning with the exception of these moments, these very rare, brief instances, in which you suddenly remember you can swim.

Madness as drowning is best depicted in Hamlet's Ophelia story. The world runs Ophelia to madness. She kills herself by drowning. For a brief time when Ophelia floats in the creek, she forgets all the problems. She enjoys looking at the beautiful water lilies. Before too long her clothes slowly get wet and eventually drowns her.

For a brief moment at the view from half way down, Secretariat forgets why he wanted to die. Everything suddenly started to seem good and he wanted nothing but to go to the top. Before too long his inevitable plunging to death.

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WHERE is that poem about that person learning all about their partners hyperfixation before getting dumped the last line is like "love is a stack of books on my nightstand with a bookmark near the end" I need it to feel whole help me please

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sobbing and crying at the woman who stole a meth addicted kitten from her dealer and then she and the kitten got clean together

[dialectical-material-gworl]

Ancestors

I think about my ancestors a lot. I think about how some of them would have been coerced into heterosexual marriages because that was the norm. Some of them must have had affairs, some of them must have never realised it is okay to have homosexual feelings because of the lack of vocabulary. Some of my ancestors must have been trans but never expressed. I get disheartened when I imagine this. I imagine them looking at the moon longingly from the fields or through the tiny windows of their quarters and thinking about their childhood gay lovers, thinking about whether life gets better, thinking about the meaning of life, thinking about the agony, and when I look at the same moon my ancestors looked at during their dark hopeless night, I grieve for them.

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I don't exist until you look at me

I told her "Love you", "Miss you", "The thought of what would've been is haunting" conveniently leaving out myself. I couldn't say "I love you" or "I miss you" or "you haunt me" for what if the words from the message becomes real and jumps out of the paper and ties around my neck? I whispered my name under the breath so she wouldn't hear it. There is something so haunting about being the subject of love. being the one who desires the other. Being the holder of pain. There is something so uncomfortable in saying my name with you.

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Sunk cost fallacy

The feeling that everyone in my life deserves someone else, someone better than me for all the efforts they put in me, for all the belief they have on me. Im supposed to be grateful that they didnt give up on me but all i feel is pity because of their bad choice in choosing to invest their efforts in me and continuining to invest in me because of the efforts already put (sunk cost fallacy). My parents work 7 days a week and they do everything in their power to take the best care of me but I'm just a failed project and they should move on and start over. Im not saying this for reassurance that im not a sunk cost or failed project because no one else other than me can prove myself wrong but i dont have the strength in me to pull myself out of this. I just want to lie down in moss and rest for a hundred years. My mind, body and soul are tired and worn out. I slept for five days and all it did was make my life five days less. Is there a cure. Am i broken forever. Mind is a prison and i am a compliant prisoner.

Oversharing on the internet is my passion.

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Sehnsucht for the unknown

"Sehnsucht" is a German word that refers to an inexplicable yearning or longing for something. My emotions are on a lucky wheel and it landed on yearning today. Not for a specific person or thing or an idea but pure yearning into the void. Does it make sense to long for an unknowable object to materialize out of thin air? Every emotion I feel in my bone is a piece of the fifteen puzzle. I feel like an uncomfortably placed stack of concepts managing to stand on sheer luck. There is a splinter lodged in my head and I can't feel a thing. There's no simple feelings, no void in the heart, no weights pulling me down. There's no amateur drowning metaphors nor suffocating in a closed cabin. Everything in the world is moved an inch to the left while I was sleeping and now I'm stubbing my toe everywhere. Somewhere in my cupboard, a pencil shaving is pressed between a dictionary which has the last shred of my soul. Somewhere in my old school, in my childhood friend's pocket is a version of myself that could be the missing piece. Somewhere across the galaxies, someone lost an atom of mine while creating me. I am waiting for all of them to come back, to relieve me from the awkwardness of small talks with the stranger living inside my body.

(In picture: Sehnsucht by Oskar Zwintscher, c. 1900.)

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i need to look like a man so i can dress like a woman

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Community thread on a random website from 2005 save me

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Wearing hoodies in the scorching sun cause I feel like I don't have a skin and I'm super emotionally sensitive and vulnerable to everything touching me core

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Streaming comic art again.

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It’s PRIDE MONTH and wanting to start with this little remembrance from queer people in the past.

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I've been polyamorous for so long and the only time I felt intense jealousy is today when my date showed me his nails painted by some girlie he's dating while he rejected my offer to paint his nails a week ago. I'm gonna jump off a cliff.

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My parents literally have the best life bro. They have their own house. They live together without me in a small town. They have a garden, a loving cat. They're literally living the lesbian fantasy. They have everything in life I'm struggling to build for myself. Why do they have to traumatize me.