dollygale

[dollygale]

immortality as theft (you have to steal life from something else) immortality as parasitism (there is something else inside You that is keeping you alive and you become less of yourself more and more the longer it stays in you) immortality as violence (everything is trying to kill you because everything is supposed to die and the universe will always try to find a way to right the wrong that is You) you understand

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today's bug thing is this button caterpillar hat!

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cinderella remake set in 1880s san francisco where cinderella is a chinese immigrant with bound feet and also she’s a butch lesbian and the prince is a butch lesbian too but she’s a paris-educated german-american socialite and a darling of the transatlantic arts and literary world so the connotations of her gender nonconformity are completely different. oscar wilde is there

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it does still make me insane specifically how many queer people lovingly embrace astrology. I went to a poetry workshop yesterday that was genuinely quite good but also included an option to disclose astrology designations during introductions and so many people broke out some variation of "I'm a [x] sum but I have a [y] placement and it SHOWS" girl no it doesn't. that's meaningless correlation you completely invented the causation

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Bruce Munro: ‘Waterlilies’ (2012) Location: Longwood Gardens, Pennsylvania

100 shining colorful waterlilies made of 65,000 recycled CDs float at Longwood Gardens in Kennett Square, Pennsylvania creating a light installation.

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What's that blog that goes over ridiculously expensive magazine christmas kitsch? Does anyone know what I'm talking about?

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I kinda lived half of 2023 (maybe more) like a drowning rat in a bucket but this year I'll live like a normal rat. outside of a bucket

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I woke up thinking you were still here. my hands shaking with regret. I've held this dream for such a long long time. and I wanna get up

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when i was a high school senior, there was a kid in my grade who wouldn't run the mile. everyone was required to run a timed mile to pass gym, and he wouldn't do it. the thing was, if he didn't pass gym, he wouldn't graduate. it was already spring.

it wasn't like he couldn't run a mile -- he was a football player, athletic. huge popular kid, boisterous, with a warm smile and a swarm of friends, who gave people nicknames. you know the kind of guy. for that matter, one could walk the mile if one wanted, you just had to do four laps at any pace. it didn't matter to him. he didn't say so, but it was a pride thing. it was demeaning. he was right, we all knew it and admired him for it, but like. he wasn't going to graduate over this.

this standoff went on for weeks. the principal was not going to allow it. this kid didn't come from a family where everybody graduated high school, and the principal wasn't going to let this kid be denied a diploma over something this stupid. but he was up against -- if i was informed correctly -- a state law. you had to run the mile to pass gym, and you had to pass gym to graduate.

the principal, who is a man i knew well, and still know, and admire, didn't make an exception for this kid. he also didn't force the kid or threaten him or even try to reason with him and wear him down. instead, he made the following deal.

"you and me," he said, "are going to run the mile together. we're gonna do it after school, so nobody is there but us, and your friends, if you want. and i will wear the stupidest, goofiest, ugliest tracksuit i can find, so nobody will be looking at you, they'll be looking at me. tell your friends to take pictures." and that is what they did. the track suit was cyan and magenta and yellow and purple and our principal looked like a goofy dumbass. the kid graduated a few months later.

i work with kids now and i think about this all the time, and why what the principal did worked. he could have cracked down. he could have said rules are rules. he could have said, ok that's your choice. he could have even had the idea, and dismissed it because of some notion about not undermining his own authority. but he didn't. he identified exactly what the actual problem was -- why won't this kid do this thing he clearly must do? because it hurts his pride. and instead of insisting, as so many adults do, that pride is a luxury that young people neither deserve nor can afford, he said ok. how can i fix that. and by making it seem, in a fun and harmless way, like the kid was humiliating him, he made the difference between the kid having a high school diploma and not. sometimes that's all it takes.

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~ Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva. Posca marker on fake Louis Vuitton.

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last night I conceived of a truly diabolical plan of pointless and petty evil and I shall have such fun putting it into action. a little birthday present to myself.

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can you take my white ass to the river and drop me in the water

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i’ve been trying to become a child again. i drink chocolate milk for dinner and go outside without my eyebrows drawn on, hold hands and sing joylessly in the dark but it’s a dead bolt of electricity through a stopped heart and the thing won’t go. i think the world can feel the desperation in my hands when i grip it, trying to shake it all back up, rouse dead flakes of what it used to be and make them dance again. when they do, it’s a crude reanimation and i have to settle them down.

maybe childhood is beginner’s luck, one good hit and then the colour goes dull. like when it was opening night and your clothes were still fresh from the dryer, and you didn’t know the scope of what you were doing, couldn’t fathom it and didn’t care and then you’d see it, rows and rows of eyes and your blood would jump up against the brim of you like it had just learned how to move, the heat glow of sunburn, the thrill of being alive for the first time. like how you were a thing of utility, once, and you would play in dirt and sand, stick and water, and everything was lined up just so, like lottery numbers, like game day. beginner’s luck.

do you remember being a girl and the world was roaring in your ears, and the house had no structure, it just looped around as you ran through it, kitchen to bathroom to garden to bathroom again, and time was this elastic bubblegum thing? sometimes in summer it felt like i could stretch my hands to either side of the day, skim morning to night and clap them together, they would go that fast, chased out by dark. and then others the light would just stay so still. like the sunset was dragging its heels and the air was sprawling with colour, fingerpainting on glass.

everything used to be so filled up with feeling. even grief was new, had a fresh smell to it, something bad and bright. life was a heart attack and a battering ram and an earthquake, and i was stuck right in the confines of it, wriggling and panting and delighted.

now there is too much room. i wanna be claustrophobic, i wanna b pushed right up against the face of the planet, nose flattened to its teeth, shoving at the perimeter. i want to live inside myself again i am tired of sleeping in the stands.

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On November 5, 1917, 100 years ago today, Wilfred Owen wrote a gorgeous love letter to fellow gay World War I poet Siegfried Sassoon. It continues to be one of my favorite love letters of all time.

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I got this while scrolling on instagram to try to convince me to join threads and I—

We did it. We finally saved her.

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it's about how jinx was always perfect in silco's eyes. it's about how jayce always loved viktor because he was imperfect. it's about jinx saying, "i thought maybe you could love me like you used to, even though i'm... different." it's about viktor saying, "i am more than i ever was." silco bringing jinx back to life after she tried to kill herself on the bridge; jayce bringing viktor back to life despite his promise to destroy the hexcore. it's about jinx's "looks like you got a couple" cutting to the core of viktor's obsession with curing himself, and viktor instantly parrying with "you have much to offer this commune, powder," a stark reminder of the child she no longer is, the child people won't stop recognizing her as.

vi accusing jinx of murdering powder. jayce snarling that his partner died in this room. vi's lesson being that she has to accept jinx for who she is now, who she has the potential to be in the future, and to stop letting her grief for powder eclipse her love for jinx in the present - jayce's lesson being that he has to experience the world through viktor's eyes to really understand him, and then he has to show viktor how he has always seen him, and everything else only gets in the way. silco telling jinx that she needs to find the strength to walk away, or the cycle will never end. jayce and viktor ending the cycle together.

i'm always with you, sis. even when we're worlds apart. // in all timelines, all possibilities... only you can show me this.