“Nobody is coming to save you” but your day literally gets better after you consume art made by other people. You hang w friends & you’re no longer suicidal, even if just for a few minutes. They’re lying to you about the significance of community. People are saving you EVERYDAY!
meta glasses? you mean pervert glasses? you mean pedo glasses? you mean groper glasses? you mean loser glasses? you mean creep glasses? you mean sicko glasses? you mean predator glasses? you mean groomer glasses? you mean molester glasses? you mean stalker glasses? you mean scumb
Non generalizziamo.
Se è fissato col seno, è Murakami.
Se bacia i piedi alla cameriera, Tanizaki.
Se una notte di sesso diventa una d'amore, l'altro Murakami (Ryu).
Se il mignolo di una donna scatena un dejavù, ovviamente Kawabata.
Se guarda le ascelle degli amici, Mishima.
“People tell me that I am thirty, but if I have lived three minutes in one . . . am I not ninety years old?”
— Baudelaire, Intimate Journals (tr. Isherwood)
you read a woman japanese author and you are utterly stunned by the intensity of every single emotion she portrays and how her womanhood aligns with yours in striking ways then u read a male japanese author, it's only chapter three and he's talking abt a woman's bouncing tits