October 22, 2014
The beginning of love is the will to let those we love be perfectly themselves, the resolution not to twist them to fit our own image. If in loving them we do not love what they are, but only their potential likeness to ourselves, then we do not love them: we only love the reflection of ourselves we find in them.

god am such an exhausted crazy person this week, like, anxiety and also midterms and also anxiety—

and i just now got a text from this kid N, who—bear with my ineffective gestures at structuring/coherence here—i knew a little bit and really liked, for his gentleness and his earnestness and his eagerness to please, literally years ago when B was a senior in undergrad and we were first dating? and like, there are two relevant stories about this kid, who i suppose isn’t so much a kid now, probably:

the first is that he walked in on me fingering B—no one’s fault, we were in B’s room with the door closed but not locked, oops, and B basically ran an open house that year—and was so instantly, bashfully apologetic that i somehow wasn’t even embarrassed, just inordinately amused? and like, i’m pretty easily embarrassed, and was more so then! at any rate, to this day thinking of it makes me gigglesnort fondly.

and the second thing—which probably you knew was coming—is that i totally had a thing for him? one that i pushed down really hard, because B got startlingly grimly jealous on me before i even quite knew, myself, that there was anything to be jealous of, but i totally had this fantasy about ~teaching him things~, i’m remembering now, which—i have no idea if that was even applicable, tbh, but in my head it was, and it was great. anyway: that summer before commencement, before B graduated, there was a stretch where i was basically living in his dorm room—at some point along the way i would find out that i wasn’t going back to harvard, that i couldn’t, and there would be a good deal of wrenching sobbing as i came totally unmoored, but while these must have been parallel timelines, in reality, as i remember it we had this stretch first, lazy and golden and elastic, eternal as a breath caught and held—

and in that stretch there were a handful of other people still sticking around for various reasons, most of whom i’ve forgotten: but one was Lovely J, i’m fairly sure, because i remember vaguely, laughingly, that he didn’t go to his own graduation ceremony, or anyway some part of it, and earnest baby Katie was taken so terribly aback; and one was B’s friend L who was always so extraordinarily, generously, artlessly kind to me—B had two friends L, actually, and both of them were kind, and both of them were there; and one—the original occasion for broaching this deep, honeyed casket of memory—was N, who was only a freshman, but had been hired by the university to do something or other, and so he was there. and so we spent a not-insignificant amount of time in each other’s company, as i remember, and did a not-insignificant amount of talking—though of course i can’t say, without asking N, whether this is the truth of history or only of memory—

and i seem to recall that finally, one evening, a bunch of us were all watching some show in the war room—dexter, maybe? thinking back on this period feels like excavating, or like some long-unused machine climbing with slow groans back to life; i had really, wholly forgotten all of this. maybe because B and i were happy, then, and that had started to seem like unreal, unparseable input, by the end—

and at any rate, N wound up half in my lap, or clutching my hand, maybe—some such half-innocent, half-thrilling clinging to each other, as we flinched from whatever this show was—

but B wasn’t pleased, i could tell, had gone grimly silent, and we weren’t poly in any ways that were meaningful, that didn’t revolve around him, and so i detached myself and turned away, went off with B upstairs to make amends, and the bloom of heady hothouse intimacy was lost—and the next semester N didn’t come back to campus, and the world kept turning, leaving that moment of decision farther and farther behind—

and the rest is history, or rather /tagged/journaling, i suppose. but so: that’s the kid who just texted me! to say, hey, i’m staying with C and R—lodestars of my life, stars of my lock screen—any interest in catching up while i’m in town? and like, god, what a clamorous cascade of associations! not that a lot of things aren’t, for me, and most of them don’t particularly warrant it; the scheduling may not even work out, or if it does there may be nothing there anymore; i don’t know what his memory of me is, really, or what prompted him to reach out. but so the upshot of it all, as i said to begin with—

god am such an exhausted crazy person this week, like, anxiety and also midterms and also anxiety.

#past selves #feelingsblogging #relationships #B #Lovely J #C #R might need a tag #i hope C and R didn't give him my tumblr as well as my number #or this'll be extra-awkward #oh also #nsfw #i guess

overlypolitebisexual:

have you ever considered that female celebrities claim not to be feminists/push a watered down version of feminism because it’s fucking unsafe for them to admit to anything else? emma watson gave the most watered down, man friendly speech on feminism i’ve ever seen in my life and men threatened to leak nudes of her and attack her so

(via smashness)

#worth considering tbh #social justice concerns #misogyny
stefaniaferrario:

stefaniamodel:

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Modelled by Stefania Ferrario
Jessica Eisner

Stefania Ferrario for Diva’s Curves

stefaniaferrario:

stefaniamodel:

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Modelled by Stefania Ferrario

Jessica Eisner

Stefania Ferrario for Diva’s Curves

(via thelingerieaddict)

#! #oh nO #I'M SO UPSET #sexualfeelingsblogging #lovely ladies #lingerie #mildly #nsfw #stefania ferrario #gorgeous #jfc i can't deal

cinquespotted said: what do you hate about coffee?

characteristically acute! i hate:

the cost of it from coffeeshops, & the taste of it from thermoses—but most of all, the teasing paradox it presents! you need it to make you wake up, & you need to wake up to make it

#memes #replies #cinquespotted
October 21, 2014

drunkvanity:

 if you get cold this winter my thighs are here to keep your ears warm

(via smashness)

#gigglesnort #yes #sexualfeelingsblogging
Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind.