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i love women, i love femininity.. i love cleavage, the sway of women’s hips, sweet scents, soft skin. i love how we romanticize life, errands for women is get shit done but add coffee and shopping in. also errands may mean maintenance days: waxes, lashes, hair, nails. being a woman is almost poetic, being a woman is like taking the scenic route, being a woman is��� everything.

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Movie Costumes | Princess Miroslava’s second wedding dress. Он – дракон (2015)

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(repeated like a mantra while rubbing my temples) i will stay silly and not allow the world to make me bitter and cruel. i will stay silly and not allow the world to make me bitter and cruel. i wi

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https://nationalpost.com/news/canada/theyre-not-human-how-19th-century-inuit-coped-with-a-real-life-invasion-of-the-walking-dead

Indigenous groups across the Americas had all encountered Europeans differently. But where other coastal groups such as the Haida or the Mi’kmaq had met white men who were well-fed and well-dressed, the Inuit frequently encountered their future colonizers as small parties on the edge of death.

“I’m sure it terrified people,” said Eber, 91, speaking to the National Post by phone from her Toronto home.

And it’s why, as many as six generations after the events of the Franklin Expedition, Eber was meeting Inuit still raised on stories of the two giant ships that came to the Arctic and discharged columns of death onto the ice.

Inuit nomads had come across streams of men that “didn’t seem to be right.” Maddened by scurvy, botulism or desperation, they were raving in a language the Inuit couldn’t understand. In one case, hunters came across two Franklin Expedition survivors who had been sleeping for days in the hollowed-out corpses of seals.

“They were unrecognizable they were so dirty,” Lena Kingmiatook, a resident of Taloyoak, told Eber.

Mark Tootiak, a stepson of Nicholas Qayutinuaq, related a story to Eber of a group of Inuit who had an early encounter with a small and “hairy” group of Franklin Expedition men evacuating south.

“Later … these Inuit heard that people had seen more white people, a lot more white people, dying,” he said. “They were seen carrying human meat.”

Even Eber’s translator, the late Tommy Anguttitauruq, recounted a goose hunting trip in which he had stumbled upon a Franklin Expedition skeleton still carrying a clay pipe.

By 1850, coves and beaches around King William Island were littered with the disturbing remnants of their advance: Scraps of clothing and camps still littered with their dead occupants. Decades later, researchers would confirm the Inuit accounts of cannibalism when they found bleached human bones with their flesh hacked clean.

“I’ve never in all my life seen any kind of spirit — I’ve heard the sounds they make, but I’ve never seen them with my own eyes,” said the old man who had gone out to investigate the Franklin survivors who had straggled into his camp that day on King William Island.

The figures’ skin was cold but it was not “cold as a fish,” concluded the man. Therefore, he reasoned, they were probably alive.

“They were beings but not Inuit,” he said, according to the account by shaman Nicholas Qayutinuaq.

The figures were too weak to be dangerous, so Inuit women tried to comfort the strangers by inviting them into their igloo.

But close contact only increased their alienness: The men were timid, untalkative and — despite their obvious starvation — they refused to eat.

The men spit out pieces of cooked seal offered to them. They rejected offers of soup. They grabbed jealous hold of their belongings when the Inuit offered to trade.

When the Inuit men returned to the camp from their hunt, they constructed an igloo for the strangers, built them a fire and even outfitted the shelter with three whole seals.

Then, after the white men had gone to sleep, the Inuit quickly packed up their belongings and fled by moonlight.

Whether the pale-skinned visitors were qallunaat or “Indians” — the group determined that staying too long around these “strange people” with iron knives could get them all killed.

“That night they got all their belongings together and took off towards the southwest,” Qayutinuaq told Dorothy Eber.

But the true horror of the encounter wouldn’t be revealed until several months later.

The Inuit had left in such a hurry that they had abandoned several belongings. When a small party went back to the camp to retrieve them, they found an igloo filled with corpses.

The seals were untouched. Instead, the men had eaten each other.

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By Czeck writer Karel Čapek, inventor of the term ‘robot’ as well!

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my blog’s theme is me. a compilation of every single thing i love. every interest. every musing. and everything in between.

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december……

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I can’t be the only one who’s tired of modern capitaliszed Christmas and yearns for the old darker version of Christmas when people needed some form of joy and warmth to get them through the harsh cold, right?

I live in Florida so, I don’t get snowfall, or much cool weather at all. But I feel like this whole country has kind of lost sight of the origins of Christmas, whether that be the Pagan holiday or the Christian version.

I really want to move somewhere that gives me Carol of the Bells or God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman vibes in winter y’know? That sort of hauntingly beautiful candlelit lamppost wreathes and pine trees and smoking chimneys Christmas. I dunno, just a thought🤷

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heart - shaped scallion found In pho . reblog for good luck & yummy soup 500000 forwver

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I cannot put into mortal words how fucking badly I want that swedish goat to burn. We live in a modern surveillance hellscape and not only is big brother watching you but he’s monitoring your purchase habits so he can sell you a smart refrigerator that will spy on you for the cia. the full weight of modern technology can be rallied to protect that straw monument to human hubris and I want us to burn it anyway. I want the might of modern society to crumple in the face of a drunk swede with a zippo lighter. we can do it just take my hand

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young Marilyn Monroe posing for pin-up artist Earl Moran, 1946

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the most fun a girl can have is finding parallels, noticing patterns, making connections, contemplating

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Everyone is so weird about people who cry easily. Fellas, is it evil and manipulative to *checks notes* have an involuntary stress response?

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That vogue business writers quote that said “you can tell someone’s screentime from their outfit” has been in my head nonstop when I see certain outfits