Sometimes, this is where we go. When words have lost their sway, when language is nothing but a convention, when everything is ambiguous and conceptual. Phrases loaded, two outs, no clear way home.
Sometimes, we crawl to each other. Vulnerable, human, needy. Sexuality can be sadness. Intimacy can be painful. Carnality is just that, carnal by virtue.
Because words can sometimes be just that simple, even when they’re wrapped in entendre.
This has become my go-to phrase ever since that episode.
I was so excited to find Willam Belli’s tumblr. I am a gigantic fan of RuPaul’s Drag Race and this fine example of talent and fierceness.
Seriously. Willam’s sense of humor is always just perfection. I don’t care what happened/what rule was broken, Willam can literally do no wrong in my eyes. That bitch is my spirit animal.
god i need dermabrasion WILLAM
Please.
There’s something about the word bitch.
Slut, whore, words like that, they all tend to have a lot more accountability. A lot more agency. They seem to be a direct result of the things you choose to do and you sort of own them. My reactions to being called these words during play usually have a degree of smugness to them. It’s an accusation of being the sort of person who enjoys this stuff. And I’m confirming it.
But, bitch, I don’t know. It’s rougher. It screams ownership, subjugation. It reduces you to something animal-like, primal, something that relies on just instinct and physical cues. Simpler thoughts and more visceral reactions usually accompany being called this or having to call myself this.
I guess I should clarify that I kind of love/hate/love the word bitch.
So, this.
Um.
This.
Yep.
This is what I sound like when I’m speechless.
Leverage
By RolledTrousers
“There is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner. Wind themselves around your limbs like spider silk, and when you are so enthralled you cannot move, they pierce your skin, enter your blood, numb your thoughts. Inside you they work their magic." —Diane Setterfield, The Thirteenth Tale.
<3
I wonder how these words leap out at him when he looks at the page. The process of him finding his own poetry and feeling in the books he reads is beautiful. The words are beautiful, too.
I remember
us.
Beautiful
and
exhaustless
we loved.
Both hands
full of
life,
we loved.
I love the words going up and down her arms.
I have an assortment of tattoos that I keep considering getting and they’re all words and phrases. My connection to words is a bit insane. My dorm is literally covered in post-it notes covered in passages from novels and quotations from my favorite authors and poets. I just love words, the turns they take, the phrases they make, the meanings they have. And I love them so much that I want to surround myself with them, cover myself in them, never be apart from them.
this picture has taught me that i love tattoos. a lot.