when people grouse at me about “wat is this shit i want medical nudity not flowers” i just want to backhand them and scream “DEEZ NUTS” in their face while grabbing my crotch like some lice-ridden jock
really, bitch? let me give back the zero dollars you gave me to see my work. you should be glad i dedicate my time to biomedical and natural history and not just the vulgar expressions of dismissive disgust that you deserve
you want “medical nudity”, go look at a book. fuckin philistines.
MEDICAL NUDITY SO SEXY
Eh, I can believe it - if tumblr didn’t, Yahoo! would, if Yahoo! didn’t, the NSA proper would. It’s a US-based company. Of course our IP addresses are stored.
And yeah, we’re trapped here. If you believe in a creator of souls, why would that not be the same as your god? The gods I know are not benevolent. They are petty and ridiculous and fun and horrible and the same as the humans who created them.
This universe may be an illusion, but you are as real as you want to be. Do you want to exist? If you don’t, I can’t blame you. I don’t either. I only exist to spite my existence.
True story: I was a nihilist child because of Calvin and Hobbes.
something for all “anons” to think about…
imagine how depressed anon will be if they find out that pretty much any website you visit logs your ip address….
ikr? I’ve always assumed I’m always being watched, even when I make fucked up jokes about dead babies and terrorism and taking the world out with me when I die. I don’t assume that true anonymity ever exists or ever will again. that was a relic of the industrial age until around when the internet was born.
if someone wants to find out who you are, they will.
That said, I have no idea what anon was on about with their question to me. I post one pseudo-emo/pseudo-thoughtful “Why, life?” bullshit post (with an obvious “my goddamn cats broke my shit again” after the break) and the crazy just comes in…
Hand Sewn portraits by David Catá
Does love really has to hurt? According to artist David Catá it obviously does. The Spanish artist uses his body as a canvas, writing an autobiographical diary. In his ongoing series ‘A Flor De Piel’, he embroiders portraits of people who have influenced or marked his life – family, friends, teachers, lovers, partners – sewn into the palm of his hand.
?? “it obviously does”?
I’ve been sewing on my hands since I was a little kid. So long as you stay within the epidermis it hardly hurts at all.
It’s an interesting art to be sure, and I quite like his style. I just don’t think you need to inject the pain aspect into it unless he himself said that’s why he does this.
i still see freight ships in my mind when people talk about “shipping”, too.
tumblr is a very confusing place and not just because of the ponyporn
the silk stitches in my mouth keep falling out, and I’m pretty sure they’re not supposed to. :\
I mean the two that have come out completely were, for some reason, tied around my crown, and I’m pretty sure not directly connected to the stitches over the actual surgery site, but it’s still vaguely concerning that they just up and fell out when I had dinner…I mean, I wasn’t told not to eat food or anything…
I guess I’ll hold off worrying unless the actual surgery stitches come out. I think those are supposed to stay in place. It’s still weird feeling like I have something stuck in my upper cheek and then realizing it’s just the stupid stitches on my gums.
…weeks since we lost you
fuck your existence
love you forever
I miss every awful thing about you
fly on, little raven, fly on
it’s hard to imagine how im supposed to go on without you, baby brother
but as I’ve learned tonight, you’ve had many plights you never shared with me
you got angry with me for being “weak” when you yourself would have been considered the same, by an outsider. but I thought you were strong, and I had no idea what was going on in your own life at that point.
but your anger kept me from taking my life when I truly did fail in your eyes, because I felt I had to best you. I knew I never would truly reach the apex you were at, but I knew I could come close.
…but I never did. I took a break instead of giving up. I thought I could best you at some other time, at some other day. I was too exhausted to do what I had to when you wanted me to.
but that doesn’t mean I never will. I’m a fucking bitch and skeptic through-and-through and everything in me will make you scoff in shame and/or admiration. someday. I can’t get there yet. but I’m not going to give up. I’ll be there soon. you just watch me, baby brother. just watch me.