my gender is filthy, contradictory, performed —a persistent metamorphosis. it is wandering hands and hot lips, it is fists and rhinestones and guttural moans. it is vintage glamour daddy and deep, tender strength. it is everything stable you thought you could rely on about binary gender except that it has been pulverized and regurgitated in an incoherent mess.
my gender is a cultural mockery. it is an homage to pain, connection and transformation. it is both a rejection and an acknowledgement of the ways that i am trapped by beauty, gender and desire. it is from this place that i pervert beauty. it is from this place that i highlight the fallacy of a natural, or neutral body. it is here, in this place of uncertainty, that my transformation continues.
majestic
(via heavymuffintop)
that last post came out wrong
really really wrong
i was not
i repeat
I WAS NOT
referring to anal intercourse

I just watched the documentary Unborn in the USA and one thing that hit me was that these religious/conservative groups that hold...
- love yourself like kanye loves himself
- believe in yourself like kanye believes in himself
- know you’re the shit like kanye...
Everything sex-positive activists told you about consent is wrong.
The consent-as-permission model defines “consent” as the act of communicating to someone that it is okay for them to interact with you in a particular way. I “consented” to sex if you asked me, “Do you want to have sex?” and I said “yes.” (Or, under the
a doodle I liked!
‘Cause this is so familiar. Multiply by Q, T, and (POC) and yeah…
A tongue of lava oozes out from beneath the recently cooled crust of a flow. The silica contained within, reflects the early...