I’m listening to the Violent Femmes and wondering how a supermoon can change a relationship. I’m thinking about how I’ve never been dancing–no one’s ever asked me to dance. And this is the time I should go and dance. I should go and not care that I’m alone.
I don’t know why I almost cried when my lover said he didn’t like dancing. My mother used to dance forever with me. In a living room with oak that melted like the barn my father burnt down, probably for the insurance money. It was the happiest memory I have of my youth.
I think my favorite lines are “just a come on from the whores on 7th avenue. I do declare I was so lonesome, I took some comfort there.”
How will I live on my own if I don’t work? How will I be a good human if I have no money or opportunities?
Two stink bugs on the window to the right of me–they’ve found each other.
This is poetry. This is tension, and I love this. Sex and drugs. What more could an angst-ridden teen want? It’s kind of scary, all the drugs and the neighbor who beats his wife. But it’s so beautiful. I ache when I hear these words.
I feel too much, don’t I? It bubbles up inside me and I must cut it out.
Let’s fucking paint with that beard,
let’s roll on the hardwood floor.
Cover ourselves with scratchy redness
before we grey and dye.
Maybe it is a dead thing, my heart–
or maybe my brain’s to blame, for
my heart is useless–
only keeps me alive
How Grows a Garden
One has not the strength
of a garden
or the breath that makes a man.
Originally posted on TIME:
You know when you’re out with your friends at a bar, and you’ve all had the same amount to drink, yet one friend is giggling uncontrollably, another is telling a hilarious story to a group of strangers, a third is picking a fight with the bouncer, and the last is talking to the bartender as if those four Jägerbombs never happened? You might have wondered, well, what’s up with that?
Science to the rescue. Psychology researchers from the University of Missouri at Columbia have published a study in Addiction Research & Theory attempting to bring the conventional wisdom that there are many distinct ways to be drunk to its logical, scientifically-based conclusion. Their study, which involved 374 undergraduates at a large Midwestern university, drew from literature and pop culture in order to conclude that there are four types of drinkers: the Mary Poppins, the Ernest Hemingway, the Nutty Professor and…
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What are your thoughts?
Originally posted on Social (In)Queery:
This post has been elaborated here.
1. Just because an argument is politically strategic, does not make it true: A couple of years ago, the Human Rights Campaign, arguably the country’s most powerful lesbian and gay organization, responded to politician Herman Cain’s assertion that being gay is a choice. They asked their members to “Tell Herman Cain to get with the times! Being gay is not a choice!” They reasoned that Cain’s remarks were “dangerous.” Why? “Because implying that homosexuality is a choice gives unwarranted credence to roundly disproven practices such as ‘conversion’ or ‘reparative’ therapy. The risks associated with attempts to consciously change one’s sexual orientation include depression, anxiety and self-destructive behavior.”
The problem with such statements is that they infuse biological accounts with an obligatory and nearly coercive force, suggesting that anyone who describes homosexual desire…
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