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siri, why does god allow suffering?

@embryocaesar-blog / embryocaesar-blog.tumblr.com

nora, twenty, los angeles
tv is my family
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frankocean

i'm not even gonna say rest in peace because it’s bigger than death. i never met the man (i was too nervous the one time i saw him) and i never saw him play live, regrettably. i only know the legends I’ve heard from folks and what i’ve heard and seen from his deep catalog of propellant, fearless, virtuosic work. my assessment is that he learned early on how little value to assign to someone else’s opinion of you.. an infectious sentiment that seemed soaked into his clothes, his hair, his walk, his guitar and his primal scream. he wrote my favorite song of all time, ‘when you were mine’. it’s a simple song with a simple melody that makes you wish you thought of it first, even though you never would have - a flirtatious brand of genius that feels approachable.  he was a straight black man who played his first televised set in bikini bottoms and knee high heeled boots, epic. he made me feel more comfortable with how i identify sexually simply by his display of freedom from and irreverence for obviously archaic ideas like gender conformity etc. he moved me to be more daring and intuitive with my own work by his demonstration - his denial of the prevailing model...his fight for his intellectual property - ‘slave’ written across the forehead, name changed to a symbol... an all out rebellion against exploitation. A vanguard and genius by every metric I know of who affected many in a way that will outrun oblivion for a long while. I’m proud to be a Prince fan(stan) for life.

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forceawakens
There’s a saying. The devil’s at his strongest while we’re looking the other way, like a program running in the background silently while we’re busy doing other shit. Daemons, they call them. They perform action without user interaction. Monitoring, logging, notifications. Primal urges, repressed memories, unconscious habits. They’re always there, always active. We can try to be right, we can try to be good, we can try to make a difference, but it’s all bullshit. ‘Cause intentions are irrelevant. They don’t drive us. Daemons do. And me? I’ve got more than most.
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Inside a fashionable coffee house IRAN. Tehran. June, 2001 Abbas

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