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bottleofspilledink · 5 months

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HOW TO(KILL YOURSELF)PERFOM DIVINE FEMININITY-nina andrej

transcript:

HOW CAN I BE A GOOD TRAD WIFE?BECOME THAT GIRL A WOMAN WHO PRIORITIZE WELLNESS, PRODUCTIVITY, BEAUTY AND MINDFULNESS 20 WAYS TO LOSE TEN POUNDS!FACIAL HAIR REMOVAL GUIDE BEGINNER FRIENDLY

WAYS TO TAP INTO YOUR DIVINE FEMININE AND YOUR TRUE GODDESS SELF WAYS TO KILL YOURSELF!HOW TO KILL YOURSELF HAVE YOU CONSIDER THAT THE ANSWER LIES IN THE AFTERLIFE?HOW TO KILL YOURSELF KILL HOW TO PERFORM DIVINE FEMININTY HOW TO PERFORM FEMININTY FEMININTY?HOW TO PERFOM

how to perform blasphemous masculinity:

step 1)get a knife

step 2)realize you have your mother's teeth but your father's bite

step 3)patricide

step 4)get a bigger knife

step 5)try to use it

step 6)fail

step 7)try again

step 8)become friends with addicts they are your brothers in arms(not optional)

step 9)become an addict yourself(optional)

step 10)wear the stupidest thing you can find

step 11)don't shave

step 12)shave your head

step 13)find god

step 14)lose god

step 15)get heavy boots.you will never outrun them,you will never outfight but you can always break their fucking noses

step 16)fuck everything that moves

step 17)wear a mask

step 18)wear a fucking condom

step 19)matricide(optional)

step 20)become lightweight

step 21)find salivation in her body

step 22)give away your last dinar

step 23)ask for someone's last cigarette

step 24)always have a lighter on you

step 25)curse your grandfather's existence

step 26)find a new god

step 27)build yourself new saints

step 28)realize your father is all bark and no bite

step 29)kill yourself to build yourself

step 30)get an ax and with your shaky hands kill your father,kill your grandfather,kill your great grandfather,kill your bloodline,for we are not mere men we are writers we are faggots we are great whores we are cunts and bitches we are vultures we do not deal with fiction of fathers we deal with the naked truth we do not deal with honorable masculinity,we are all bite and no bark,

now take the hand that fed you nothing but scraps all your life and bite it off

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bottleofspilledink · 1 year

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You over Her [not as a body but as a steeple]

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bottleofspilledink · 1 year

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could you talk some about gay jesus? i'm so interested and i want to know more!

picture it like this: you are the disciple john, young and scrawny, living off of bread and dust. you have seen roman soldiers drag the poor through the streets, push the ill to the earth, point their swords at the weak, and your heart is a place of briars and thunder.

then jesus shows up in capernaum one night, tangled hair and dark eyes, singing about love. he shows up on your doorstep smelling of rosewater and clay. he asks you and your brother for a loaf of bread, sits at your table, telling you not about how he invented the constellations but about how he spent half an hour today watching a group of children dance together in a marketplace. you feel the ache in your bones long before you realize it’s there, and when he places his hands on your shoulders, asking you to join him, no piece of you refuses.

this is what it’s like traveling with him: plum trees bear fruit in the middle of winter, ice cold bodies of the dead turn hot and leap up laughing. he smears river mud on the blind and they see again. he presses a finger to the lips of the mute and suddenly poetry fall off their tongues. shackles melt and lions quiet and the sea unwilds into stillness and your heart which was once a drought in the face of unbelief becomes springwater pouring out the gospels anyway.

one night after dinner, you slump over with exhaustion. jesus, grinning, tells you to lay your head on his chest. you do. you can feel his heartbeat through the linen of his clothes, steady and strong and so undeniably human even with all the divinity in his chest. he runs his fingers through your hair once, lightly. a calloused fingertip brushes your cheek and suddenly all the aching in your limbs evaporates. jesus leaves his arm wrapped around you. you never want to move again.

you see how he looks at the roman centurion clutching the hand of his fever-wracked lover as if jesus and the centurion were two parts of the same soul. the centurion’s lover is a man with bright red hair. i am the light, jesus says before he presses his lips to the lover’s forehead.

you remember the insults your parents spat out about men who lie with other men. you remember the boy you kissed by the well when you were sixteen, all the nights you spent shivering and praying on your dirt floor to the god you hadn’t met yet that you would wake in the morning better than you were now. you wonder if jesus can recite every plea you ever made.

when he says your name, your blood fevers at the sound. you would risk pain and prison for that voice. you would risk yourself.

the first time he calls you beloved, you have to tell him. the two of you are off by yourselves. you are knee-deep in a lake dragging your net through the water to catch fish for supper, and he is under the oak tree where you asked him to sit, sharing a story about an old weaver in nazareth who made cloths that were works of art within themselves. you pull up five fat, wriggling trout. he calls out, wonderful, beloved! and the net slips from your hands. you rush out of the water, fall to your knees in front of him. you haven’t finished the first syllable of forgive before he presses a finger to your lips.

he says, when have i ever told you that love of any kind is something you should be afraid of? and then, smiling as he lowers his hand, do you think i have never been in love with a man?

you know you don’t have to ask him for the kiss, but you do anyway, trembling as he brings you closer. his lips are chapped. he tastes of figs, sage, and moonlight. his laughter is in your mouth like wine, and you think of when he sang that love is the truest foundation of the universe, and you are free, you are free, you are free.

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bottleofspilledink · 1 year

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sigh. i'm back on lydia bennet.

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bottleofspilledink · 1 year

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[ID: A page of a play. It reads as follows, "Theseus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. / Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. / Theseus: Stain them, I don't care." End text.]

Herakles-Euripides (Tr. Anne Carson)

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bottleofspilledink · 1 year

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i love accidentally reblogging smth here instead of my main ://

#enjoy that boner skirt post adkshdgjkl

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bottleofspilledink · 1 year

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The boner is actually crucial for the structural integrity of a skirt

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bottleofspilledink · 1 year

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got my november trends mixed up so i accidentally nutted 50k times and didn't write a single word

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bottleofspilledink · 1 year

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Filipino artist, Gregory Halili, carves intricate skulls into mother of pearl shells.

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bottleofspilledink · 2 years

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Hey

Do you like unhinged, angry women?

Do you like mad science?

Do you like the exquisite homoerotic tension of two Victorian ladies just barely brushing hands?

Do you think that Frankenstein would have gone a lot better if only Victor had been less of an absolute weenie?

Do you look at the story of the Loch Ness Monster and think “...but what if a dinosaur got in the lake”

THEN BOY, DO I HAVE THE BOOK FOR YOU!

Move over, chemists, it’s time for mad paleontologists to shine!

Years ago, Mary’s great uncle Victor Frankenstein mysteriously disappeared in the Arctic; now, in 1853, Mary and her reckless husband Henry are struggling to make a name for themselves as paleontologists in the old-boys'-club that is the world of Victorian science. But when Mary discovers her great-uncle's old notes, detailing his gruesome attempts at creating life, she comes up with a plan — one that will finally make them some money, prove Henry's radical paleontological theories right, and get Mary some of the respect she goddamn deserves...

Our Hideous Progeny comes out in May of next year; you can pre-order it now wherever books are sold! Or, if you want a copy NOW: you can request an ARC on Netgalley (if you're registered) or enter my UK publisher's giveaways on Instagram or Twitter (if you're in the UK) for a free advance copy PLUS a fossil-themed sweet treat... 👀🍫

Thanks all, byeee!

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bottleofspilledink · 2 years

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One of the many stupid feelings humans are capable of having is the private, repulsive rage of seeing someone getting support and sympathy for a problem no one helped you with when you were having it, either because you didn’t have anyone or because it never occurred to you that you could ask for help. Suddenly the world seems to split into two – the realm that contains people like them, the connected and loved – and the realm that contains you, the miserable and the alone, who must suffer in solitude. This is sufficiently horrible that you grasp for reasons or world-understandings to make this reality acceptable, and a mentally available one is that it is superior to be in the miserable solitude realm, that the problem is one that should be solved with self sufficiency and dignity. That this other person is pathetic for being aided and loved when you were not. Scorn is more palatable than confronting the notion that you could have received aid (if you had made different choices or been luckier), that you desperately wish you could have been aided but were not. Scorn is more palatable than the howling hunger for things to have been different for you. So your mind chooses scorn.

It is also a bad place to be. Human existence is full of such traps.

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bottleofspilledink · 2 years

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another heavy handed symbolism moment: my mom has a potted sunflower in the kitchen. because it is a sunflower, it keeps turning towards the light from the window. my mother keeps rotating it so it faces inward because she wants "to see its beautiful petals and have it really brighten up the space!" . the sunflower is visibly wilting .

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bottleofspilledink · 2 years

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I’m never leaving this website

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bottleofspilledink · 2 years

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btw i love it when people casually "misuse" christian imagery and mythology in art and fiction i love it when people put a halo on some fictional character just because it looks cool and i love it when people elevate their special little guys from their shows to sainthood and i love it when people call things that are nothing like angels "angels" just because it sounds epic and sexy and makes people excited please never ever stop

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bottleofspilledink · 2 years

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People go on about good healthy queer rep but I cannot express how much I want unhealthily devoted queer rep. Raise your lover from the dead no matter the cost. Kill to get them to safety. Trade your soul for theirs. Die to reunite with them. I want gothic hyper-devotion codependent lovers

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bottleofspilledink · 2 years

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Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg

| p. 71 | Lesbian; Sacred Sexuality by Diane Mariechild & Marcelina Martin | p. 27 | Outgrowing your home by Eva Bee | p. 122 | p. 236 | @bluemourning, x | p. 5 | p. 282 |

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bottleofspilledink · 2 years

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annotated margins but it just says “gay???” repeatedly at various points throughout the book

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