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~humor as therapy-

"I will tell you what I will do and what I will not do. I will not serve that in which I no longer believe, whether it calls itself my home, my fatherland, or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defense the only arms I allow myself to use — silence, exile, and cunning."

- James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (via wordsnquotes)

(via wordsnquotes)

(Source: dragqueeneames, via olivespook)

"

A LETTER TO MY DOG, EXPLORING THE HUMAN CONDITION

Dear squash
Aka squashy
Aka squishy
Aka squasharooni Gibson
Aka squish squash and you don’t stop
Aka miracle button
Aka little perfect peanut
Aka my beating heart with fur and legs

I know you think it’s insane that I still poop in the house
That I choose to wear underwear and pants giving no one the opportunity to smell my true disposition
That on the days I need to feel better about myself I don’t just pee on someone’s pee
Don’t worry. I am not fooled by my thumbs
I know I am not the tadpole’s final project
I know I am not the last species evolution hopes to become
I can’t even swallow my own pride long enough to let myself drool when something smells delicious

What must you think of my mirror face
Or how much of my day I spend practicing my butch voice
My baby-I’ll-fix-your-carburetor-with-my-tool-kit voice when you know full well there is nothing in my tool kit besides a massive collection of self help books that have helped me do nothing but feng shui the skeletons in my closet
Don’t you just love how that femur accents the sofa set, squash

I’m sorry I cry every time I take you to the vet
I’m sorry they take your temperature like that
I’m sorry I take you there when you’ve only got a bug bite
Humans hold so tight to the leash of life but you will roll in anything dead and wear it like perfume
I wish I had your nose for eternity
I wish I could see what you see

Where the squirrels satan your eyes
Where the postman deserves to die even when he’s not bringing bills
What’s with hating the shadow the peace lily makes on the floor in the living room?
I know I let you down everyday I choose not to murder the vacuum
Is it bad that I refuse to teach you to not be afraid of men
Is it bad that I want you to keep your bite and your snarl and your gleaming teeth
Is it bad that when they call you a risk, I call you a feminist

You never make fun of your friend Chloe’s underbite
Or your friend willow’s limp
Or your friend Harvey’s past trouble with the law
You never criticize me for being too uptight to let my hair down even though you can let yours all the way out
All over my black hoody, my black pants, the couch, the car, the chair, the online merch store that sells my books and tee-shirts wrote me a letter saying “we can’t continue to sell your products if they continue to be covered in so much of your dog’s hair”
I just assumed anything covered in you would increase in value

Remember when I told that woman I loved her and whispered in your ear “you’re my number one girl” it’s true
If I could I would put your beating heart in my mouth and suck on it like a piece of candy so I could finally understand how you got so sweet
I know my therapist likes you more than she likes me
And I still let you sleep on her couch
You taught me a good nap is the best therapy
You taught me to sit when I damn well want to sit

I don’t care that you never talk about capitalism or patriarchy or the heteronormative hegemonic paradigm
I know you’re saving the world every time you get poo stuck in your butt hair and you don’t go looking for someone to blame

Speaking of looking for someone
I can’t imagine what you think of sex
I can’t tell if you think it’s a slobbering badly boundaried belly rub or a poorly aimed fist fight
You just perch on the end of the bed and tilt your head back and forth
Wondering why I still haven’t taken my pants off
I have issues, Squash

Humans have issues
We dig holes to bury our own hearts
We chew on our own bones
We escape the predators but still can’t shake them off
Some of us wear our own bodies the way your friend Berlin wore that cone around her head, remember?
So embarrassed, but I never had a better teacher that came to my own spirit than you
Never had a reason to stop playing dead until the day I saw your little face at the shelter
Your little nose pressed against the cold glass, staring up at me like I was a gay Noah’s ark
My heart
My heart
My heart
Every time I give you a treat, you run around the house looking for a place to hide it until you finally come to where I am sitting and hide it directly under me

The most important thing I have ever built in my whole life is your trust
May you always feel entitled to more than your fair share of the bed
May you always tear the stuffing out of every toy I give you
So I can constantly be reminded to keep spilling my guts
To keep saying I don’t know how I will ever make peace with the shortness of your life span
But I promise to make sure you know you are so loved every second you are here
You know my hands will build the sturdiest ark they possibly can
To hold your holy howl and your holy bark and your holy beg

Squasharooni Gibson
My little perfect peanut
My beating heart with fur and legs

"

-

Andrea Gibson “A Letter to My Dog, Exploring the Human Condition” (via ohandreagibson)

Oh fuck.

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fer1972:

Photography by GeoArcus

artschoolglasses:

Watching the sunset from the Ponte Santa Trinita
herspanic:

this is the honest to god truth. 

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