morimorrow

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pony boy

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TW: Pedophilia

Teenagers are rarely taught the reason why they can't consent to sex with adults.

And that's because teaching them that would completely unravel our coercion-based society.

It can be difficult to explain in detail the exact reason and all the specifics in a way that they will understand. But the simplest way to phrase it is that in some cases, even when someone agrees to something and even when they appear enthusiastic about it, there's too much of a power imbalance that it's no different than forcing them. Also, having power and being abusive doesn't require a conscious expectation to be obeyed.

Imagine a world in which every teenager understood that and was easily able to call out anyone who tried to convince them otherwise.

They'd know that there's no such thing as an employee consenting to working for a poverty wage, working in unsafe conditions, working long hours, or working without taking breaks. They'd know that there's no such thing as consenting to paying a bank overdraft fee. They'd know that there's no such thing as consenting to student loan debt. They'd know that there's no such thing as consenting to medical bills. They'd know that there's no such thing as consenting to generating profit for banks or landlords in order to have a place to live and being evicted or foreclosed when you lose your source of income. They'd know that there's no such thing as consenting to a police search. They'd know that there's no such thing as a child who's okay with their parents spanking them. They'd know that being dependent on someone does not mean that you can never criticize them. They'd know that if it's considered abusive to simply play along when someone obeys, then it has to be much more abusive to actively expect to be obeyed, which many adults do to them.

And people who benefit from a society based on coercion masquerading as freedom wouldn't like that.

So instead, teenagers are taught something dismissive. They're taught that what they want doesn't matter. They're taught that they're too young to know what love is. They're taught "it's the law". They're taught things that are insulting to their intelligence, which they'll naturally rebel against.

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Eugene Richards, Still House Hollow, Tennessee, 1986

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I saw @comikbook started a dtiys and I've loved their work since 2022 and I was SO EXCITED to draw Mercy 😋

( the other vers under the cut )

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hi

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adriana varejão: histórias às margens [at the margins] - museu de arte moderna de são paulo (2013)

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oscillogram and spectrogram of the sentence "Where were you a year ago"

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I NEED people to understand that condoms aren’t free because “MEN like to FUCK lol,” they’re free because thirteen thousand people die from AIDS every year in the US alone.

Stop framing free menstrual products as more essential than free condoms. They should BOTH be free.

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“ we came from dirt, we have to swallow it. “

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“Look Away”

How can I look away now that I’ve seen you? How can I walk past you in the hallways, knowing I’ve visited parts of your soul that not even your mother has caught a glimpse of? How can you and I coexist?

I know your exact eye color — a mossy green with a honey brown in the internal cornea, constructing a hazel that compares to no other. I remember the time you dyed your hair a vibrant purple in the fifth grade, and you wore that color with confidence, just as bold as your eyeliner. I know your younger brother would proudly show off his Pokémon cards when I came over, always excited to trade and share them. I also can't forget how he loved Sonic the Hedgehog; we would spend hours with it playing in the background while playing peek-a-boo with the baby in the house. I know mornings aren’t your favorite.

I know you thrive in the quiet of the night, we would often stay up too late, lost in whatever we’re doing, even if it means feeling groggy the next day. Stupid gossip, dumb boys online, scarfing down your grandmother's cooking, and eight bags of chips just to starve through school the next day. I know what color your bedsheets are — an off-white with a hello-kitty bread spread— and I still have your Freddy Krueger T-shirt, I know you still have my bra with the right strap tore in the top drawer of the dresser by the mirror. Along with my elastic black star belt, and I know I’ll never get that one back.

I’ll never forget these special parts of you — not your subtle underbite, your dream to become a model, not the mole above your elbow, or the feeling of your thumb gently pulling my lips for an easier canvas for lipstick.

I think you’re beautiful. Every time I walk by you in the halls, I see your beauty. You remind me of the purple-haired girl I passed notes to in 5th grade, the blonde girl in seventh who gave her first kiss, the pink-haired girl in eighth grade who loved heels and false eyelashes, and the freshman girl with black hair who wore a Misfits tee. You are just as beautiful as they were. Because they were you.

No matter what, you will always be the girl I kissed, the girl I shared a bed with, the girl who did my makeup, the one with the most annoyingly sweet brother, and the girl with the prettiest soul.

— mori morrow

Inspired by this photo from pinterest:

— Rachel Mennies, from “April 18, 2017,” The Naomi Letters

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Wip update, I love fabric

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Everything is about symbolism you cunt

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