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—this is not the place to work if you can't handle that sort of stuff;
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I've been watching spn since high school but for some reason it took me this long to make actual art for it.
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When Fleabag said "I'm not obsessed with sex. I just can't stop thinking about it. The performance of it. The awkwardness of it. The drama of it. The moment you realize someone wants your body. Not so much the feeling of it"
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“Yes, but here I am alone. A wave builds up, perhaps it says its name, I don’t understand, it mutters, humps in its load of movement and foam and withdraws. Who can I ask what it said to me? Who among the waves can I name? And I wait. Once again the clearness approached, the soft numbers rose in foam and I didn’t know what to call them. So they whispered away, seeped into the mouth of the sand. Time obliterated all lips with the patience of shadow and the orange kiss of summer. I stayed alone, unable to respond to what the world was obviously offering me, listening to that richness spreading itself, the mysterious grapes of salt, love unknown, and in the fading day only a rumor remained, further away each time, until everything that was able to changed itself into silence.”
— Pablo Neruda, “The Soliloquy of the Waves,“ from On the Blue Shore of Silence: Poems of the Sea (Rayo, 2004)
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it’s only sex by car seat headrest // keanu reeves and river phoenix circa 1991 // richard siken
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MY OWN PRIVATE IDAHO (1991) dir. Gus Van Sant
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from that gay country song dean has definitely listened to
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The Pacific Appreciation Week
Day Five: One Scene
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River Phoenix on November 24, 1992 arrives at Los Angeles International Airport in Los Angeles, California. Photo by Ron Galella.
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Medicine, law, business, engineering, those are noble persuits. And necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love. These are what we stay alive for.
Dead Poets Society (1989) dir. Peter Weir
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