A whole lotta fuckery, blogging, self reflection, queerness, eroticism, feminism and other shit that I like.
The real you versus the #Instagram you… Love this @kat_in_nyc #regram #amazing
It is born, and though uninvited, unwelcome,
unwanted…like a cancer it takes root.
It festers. It bleeds. It scabs…
only to rupture and bleed anew.
It grows…it thrives…until it consumes.
It lives, so it must die. It lies in all of us.
Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden,
it will stir—open its jaws and howl.
It speaks to us, guides us. Some to despair…
it drives others to murder and others to madness.
Passion rules us all, and we obey.
What other choice do we have?
Passion is the source of our finest moments:
the joy of love, the clarity of hatred,
and the ecstasy of grief.
It hurts sometimes more than we can bare.
Passion is the source of hope and the cause of despair.
It is the source of life and the cause of death.
If we could live without passion,
maybe we’d know some kind of peace.
But we would be hollow.
Empty rooms, shuttered and dank.
Without passion, we’d be truly dead.
-Angel, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
written by Joss Whedon