Looking at my body as art rather than whatever the hell i was doing has helped me start realizing how beautiful I am
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you,
with your sunny disposition
and tender heart,
have always been enough.
📚: i have to tell you something, zara bas
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I love my body so much. In my day to day life I’m pretty disconnected from my body, it’s just a vessel for my existence and I forget that I’m not a floating mind with clothes. So on the rare occasion I look down at my naked body I’m amazed that I poses this thing. When I observed myself I actually think that I look like a sculpture, that I actually possess the anatomy I study when I draw and that I could belong in a painting. So now I’m happy and feel proud to poses a unique peace of art that has been molded through ages of genetic selection and wanted to share my joy :)
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uhm. quick question. is ethogirl-ism contagious by any chance? asking for a friend
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