But I think the only thing you should have laid out in front of you is your favourite ice cream
It’s too often portrayed that ice cream is indulgence at it’s highest level - I disagree
To me, ice cream is basic self care
I refuse to worry that my career isn’t planned
And that I don’t have a man to marry
I am too busy dancing around my living room in my underwear
Doing my chores wearing my plastic tiara from when I was a little girl
I’m too busy falling in love with myself first
To worry about finding a mediocre career and someone to love me, when loving myself is more important
Self love is portrayed as an indulgence that only supermodels should be allowed to revel in
Why? I’m the only one that’s here from beginning to end
So I will sit here, eating my ice cream and learning to love myself.
I’m not quite there yet
But my god I’m trying.
It’s okay to be unsure (via exoticwild)
Marina Abramovic and Ulay, Death Self, 1977. This performance consisted of the two artists seated in front of each other, connected at the mouth. They took in each other’s breaths until all of their available oxygen had been used up. The performance lasted only 17 minutes, resulting in both artists collapsing unconscious to the floor, having filled their lungs with carbon dioxide. This personal piece explored the idea of an individual’s ability to absorb the life of another person, exchanging and destroying it.
“The song recounts a specific sexual assault (“One of the most shattering experiences of my life,” Grimes, who was born in Vancouver as Claire Boucher, told SPIN in 2012) by describing the psychic fallout: “And never walk about after dark/ It’s my point of view/ Because someone could break your neck/ Coming up behind you always coming and you’d never have a clue,” she lisps in her high, pinched voice. It’s a dazzling, paralyzing performance, in part because Boucher sounds almost playful, and in part because the skronking behind her—the song’s springy, propulsive synth line was one of 2012’s most unforgettable—indicates something other than victimization. “See you on a dark night,” Boucher repeats. […] But what “Oblivion” ultimately offers is victory. It’s the sound of one woman turning personal devastation into not just a career-making single, but a lasting anthem of transformation.”