cat: places paw tentatively on boob
cat: presses paw down on boob
cat: slowly, agonizingly walks across boobs
if yr atheism involves belittling people’s faith and attempting to prove to everyone that god doesn’t exist don’t talk to me don’t come near me don’t breathe on me thanks
r u ever like damn i hate my body but then ur like life is an illusion i’m floatin around on a rock trapped in an orbit around a ball of flame in a vast & largely unknown universe where death is unescapable who gives a shit ???
Pros of wearing all black: looks so badass
Cons: everyone knows I had powdered donuts
This didn’t go the direction I expected. It was much better.
Felt like doing a watercolor painting after a sketch was born out of nowhere one late evening. Not gonna explain this one, but I called it “Bird training”. I like it when a painting contains some questions that the viewers will answer in their own personal way, finding unique explanations and meanings.
Watercolor on thick watercolor paper, A3.
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When my daughter tells me the rape was her fault, I will
take her tears and mix them into the smelling salts
that will wake her up whenever she wants to die.
I will teach her the ways of the California Gold Rush:
will tell her that when a boy kneels between her legs without asking
and tries to pan for the prize that will make him rich,
he is only worth coal. Not even bronze.
There will be days when her blood curdles at the sight of a couple kissing,
when all she wants is to wander through the local cemeteries
in search of the person she used to be
before he buried her beneath his body.
There will be days when forgiveness is a forest
that she has no idea how to find her way through,
when only bread crumbs will signal the path to escape.
And when my daughter says the rape was her fault,
I will gather every last crumb of her dignity
and watch as the wolves of the forest
snarl and snap at its smell.
My daughter will stand and beat her chest,
she will howl and prance
until even the monsters beneath her bed
learn to bow down to her
before they begin to dance.
I went to an Arab-American comedy night and there was a Muslim guy making a joke about being in high school football.
"I was hit so hard, I saw Jesus. Do you know how hard you have to be hit to see somebody else’s god?"
This is what jokes about religion are supposed to look like.