measureformeasure

[measureformeasure]

KRILLING MYSELF I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS PAPER ALL DAY WITH THE FERVOUR OF A MONK AND I STILL WON'T BE DONE ON TIME

[measureformeasure]

they should invent a me who is not exhausted by simply being alive

[measureformeasure]

possibly one of the craziest vases i've ever seen is this one by the amykos painter of king amykos being punished by the argonauts. dude really went "im going to paint a punishment scene on this hydria. but i'm going to make it kind of sexy." it's like the martyrdom of st. sebastian of greek pots to me

[measureformeasure]

something took over me

[measureformeasure]

today is gonna be the day that it's gonna be the day today

by now you should've somehow realized somehow by now

i don't believe that anybody believes that i dont believe

about you now

backbeat, the word is on the street that the word is on the street: backbeat

i'm sure you've heard it all before but you've heard it all before i'm sure

i don't believe that anybody believes that i dont believe

about you now

[measureformeasure]

who up and got a bad desire

[measureformeasure]

utilising the gift of imagination to hallucinate moments of tenderness between fictional people

[measureformeasure]

lady lamb is currently raffling off her guitar with 100% of entries going to the sameer project—$10 per entry with no limit; raffle ends august 27th.

here's the link to the instagram post

[measureformeasure]

the set and boots. btw.

Ransacking Troy’s major pitfall was its lack of conversation around enslaved women in Sparta or Mycenae or anywhere else a protagonist was from (and the only formerly enslaved member of the scrappy band of heroes joining late and saying almost nothing) but aside from that it was pretty good. I stand by my problematic age gap Bronze Age lesbian couple and Irene Poole in those sexy sexy sexy boots. And warp weighted loom set ‼️

[measureformeasure]

Ransacking Troy’s major pitfall was its lack of conversation around enslaved women in Sparta or Mycenae or anywhere else a protagonist was from (and the only formerly enslaved member of the scrappy band of heroes joining late and saying almost nothing) but aside from that it was pretty good. I stand by my problematic age gap Bronze Age lesbian couple and Irene Poole in those sexy sexy sexy boots. And warp weighted loom set ‼️

[measureformeasure]

euripides simply is that good actually

[measureformeasure]

I've been thinking I really want to do something to try and help folks over in Palestine, so while I can't donate I want to at least help link to some of the general charities for folks there:

Here's arab.org's daily clicks for Palestine!

Here's eSims for Gaza!

Here's the Gaza Soup Kitchen!

Here's the linktree for the Sameer project!

Here's Crips for eSims for Gaza!

Please donate and helps spread the word if you can! If you're like me and can't donate, there's at least the daily clicks site you can bookmark and do!!!

[measureformeasure]

How Some of It Happened

by Marie Howe

My brother was afraid, all his life, of going blind, so deeply that he would turn the dinner knives away from looking at him,

he said, as they lay on the kitchen table. He would throw a sweatshirt over those knobs that lock the car door

from the inside, and once, he dismantled a chandelier in the middle of the night when everyone was sleeping.

We found the pile of sharp and shining crystals in the upstairs hall. So you understand, it was terrible

when they clamped his one eye open and put the needle in through his cheek and up and into his eye from underneath

and held it there for a full minute before they drew it slowly out once a week for many weeks. He learned to lean into it,

to settle down he said, and still the eye went dead, ulcerated, breaking up green in his head, as the other eye, still blue

and wide open, looked and looked at the clock.

After our father died, my brother promised me he wouldn't. He shook my hand on a train going home one Christmas and gave me five years,

as clearly as he promised he'd be home for breakfast when I watched him walk into that New York City autumn night. By nine, I promise,

and he was, he did come back. And five years later he gave me five years more. So much for the brave pride of premonition,

the worry that won't let it happen. You know, he said, I always knew I would die young. And then I got sober

and I thought, OK, I'm not. I'm going to see thirty and live to be an old man. And now it turns out that I am going to die.

Isn't that funny? One day it happens: what you have feared all your life, the unendurably specific, the exact thing. No matter what you say or do. This is what my brother said: Here, sit closer to the bed so I can see you.

[measureformeasure]

i'm such an apologyhead...like i'm really sorry btw

[measureformeasure]

the anti lgbt sentiment goes that lgbt people were formed by their perverted & psychologically disordered life experiences, going against their original ontological hegemonically sexed self, so the pro lgbt narratives commonly go "this is actually our ontological self too! we were not formed by our life in anyway" when truth of the matter is everyone was formed by their perverted traumatic life

[measureformeasure]

Valentine Hugo, Le Sacre du Printemps: Danse sacrale de l'élue [La danseuse Maria Piltz dans la danse du sacrifice], ink, 41 x 30 cm, in Montjoie! Magazine, 03/06/1913.

A sketch describing Vaslav Nijinsky’s original choreography of the Danse sacrale (Sacrificial Dance) from Igor Stravinsky’s ballet Le Sacre du printemps.

[measureformeasure]

plundered some rose petals, also