Ogling pink pearl inlay stiletto knives on eBay.
Hard femme actualities.
I took Amtrak from St. Louis to Chicago for the week, and was kinda excited when a punk kid sat down next to me (presumably he chose me because of the purple hair/queercut). He was there about ten seconds before noticing I was reading an unholy book of libertarian propaganda called Conscious Capitalism before he swerved the fuck out of there.
LITTLE DOES HE KNOW I AM WRITING A FUCKING THESIS ON COMMODITY ACTIVISM AS MARKETING SHAM
I had never seen so much bad plastic surgery up close before I worked at the West County Whole Foods. Rich white people are the weirdest.
Michel Foucault, Friendship as a Way of Life (via othermike)
Another thing to distrust is the tendency to relate the question of homosexuality to the problem of “Who am I?” and “What is the secret of my desire?” Perhaps it would be better to ask oneself, “‘What relations, through homosexuality, can be established, invented, multiplied, and modulated?” The problem is not to discover in oneself the truth of one’s sex, but, rather, to use one’s sexuality henceforth to arrive at a multiplicity of relationships. And, no doubt, that’s the real reason why homosexuality is not a form of desire but something desirable. Therefore, we have to work at becoming homosexuals and not be obstinate in recognizing that we are. The development toward which the problem of homosexuality tends is the one of friendship.