#dont ask me why
How many people’s most beloved childhood stuffed animals are actually teddy bears, like I feel like that’s a thing someone made up. Reblog this and put what your longest owned and/or favorite stuffed animal as a child was in the tags, inquiring minds want to know
Some star potential
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Preaching To
There’s a lot of religion in what we do. It’s unavoidable; worship, reverence, gestures that would otherwise be hollow having meaning thrust upon them in an almost arbitrary manner. Fetishising the consumption of bodily matter…
But more than that, it’s adopting the puritan zealousness, the disciplinarians and Victorian attitudes that we can look back on with the tinge of nostalgia and misinterpretation and think: “Golly, those old dudes really had the right idea.” Except, well, they didn’t.
I sometimes excuse the lack of D/s in the world until the recent past as a matter of convenience; it didn’t pop up because it wasn’t needed, because it was ingrained into the society. Men had power over women, and so dominant and submissive needs were met. But that’s just a convenient lie, something I can flourish to sound like it makes sense, without having to delve into the deeper issue.
Which is that freedom, especially sexual, wasn’t anything even promoting an accepted right until recently, and still isn’t for the vast majority. Women couldn’t be submissive in the way that we recognise it because that is fundamentally built on consent, and without that it’s just bullying and slavery, harnessing social norms and fear to have things the way you want them.
We can adopt their practices, and I’m more than happy that we do, but we should bear in mind that they’re practices born out of inequality, and as much as that might resemble this, they are not the same. They are not to be idolised, revered, or worshipped in any way, because they did not have it right.
More than that, what they had was plagued by the fallacy of inherited power; it can never be as sweet, or as fulfilling, as that which is willingly granted. Just because I’m a man doesn’t mean I should have the things I want, any less than just because you’re a woman you should be at your feet. Without an equal footing, there can be no power exchange, and no D/s.
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It’s not the words themselves, but the tone, that really gets me. It’s the way that the meaning is conveyed through a sort of aural osmosis, my proximity to them, and the fact they’re there, letting whatever sentiment seep in through my earlobes, missing the aural canal entirely. It twists and turns its way up to my brain, and somehow the garbled mess can be turned back into its original form, distilled and made pure.
I don’t care about what he’s saying, only that he’s saying it. His larynx is just another instrument, as far as I’m concerned, but then music always was a form of communication. And when my lips are down close to your ear, and the words spill from my lips like tar, each one fixing you in place, you don’t give a fuck about the meaning behind them, even though each one sends a trill of pleasure coursing through your body. It’s the harshness of the consonants and the lewd, perverted elongation of the vowels. It’s the music of it, as depraved and dirty a tune as it plays.
The words don’t mean jack shit, on their own. They need a voice to speak them.
Hey guise luk im on a horse.
Faq u horse Im whip you
ok horse faq u
Hombre a caballo
Fernando Botero
Museo Botero
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