©
Everything interests me, but nothing holds me.
by Fernando Pessoa (via cytolene)

(Source: esdrujulasmuertas, via loveandddrevenge)

The porn films are not about sex. Sex is airbrushed and digitally washed out of the films. There is no acting because none of the women are permitted to have what amounts to a personality. The one emotion they are allowed to display is an unquenchable desire to satisfy men, especially if that desire involves the women’s physical and emotional degradation. The lightning in the films is harsh and clinical. Pubic hair is shaved off to give the women the look of young girls or rubber dolls. Porn, which advertises itself as sex, is a bizarre, bleached pantomime of sex. The acts onscreen are beyond human endurance. The scenarios are absurd. The manicured and groomed bodies, the huge artificial breasts, the pouting oversized lips, the erections that never go down, and the sculpted bodies are unreal. Makeup and production mask blemishes. There are no beads of sweat, no wrinkle lines, no human imperfections. Sex is reduced to a narrow spectrum of sterilized dimensions. It does not include the dank smell of human bodies, the thump of a pulse, taste, breath—or tenderness. Those in films are puppets, packaged female commodities. They have no honest emotion, are devoid of authentic human beauty, and resemble plastic. Pornography does not promote sex, if one defines sex as a shared act between two partners. It promotes masturbation. It promotes the solitary auto-arousal that precludes intimacy and love. Pornography is about getting yourself off at someone else’s expense
by Chris HedgesEmpire of Illusion: The End of Literacy and the Triumph of Spectacle (via 22-16)

(Source: nyctaeus, via dumb-beetlebabe)

loveandddrevenge:

s-k-e-t-c-h-e-d:

you are better than the mediocre love he is giving you by S.B. (fallinlovewithapoet)

O h

sharpayevons:

"At least you love me." I say to my pet as I hold them against my chest as they try to get away

(via kennakittymeow)

adidux:

000

(Source: aquaticwonder)

You do not need pasta.
by Me laying in bed talking to myself at 1:30 in the morning  (via seabelle)

(via lickgold)

My friggin cat