The Flesh

First time I read "hungarian" in your bio I was so sleepy I thought it meant you were always hungry. made sense w all the hannibal theme

they should have made hannibal hungarian can you imagine him cooking people in a bogrács?

i love drawing blood. everyone should draw blood. everybody draw blood NOW

Sheol, oil on glass with wood frame by Kim Jakobsson

VITA CARNIS

A tribute to my favorite analogue/internet horror series.

So apparently Tumblr ate my original post about this but:

A couple weeks ago I’m going to get lunch and as I open the fridge, my mother attempts to communicate to me that any chicken currently in the fridge is ok for people to eat, because the chicken that was intended for the dog to eat has been used up.

What she actually says is, “That’s human chicken.”

After taking a minute to process all horrible implications of the phrase “human chicken”, I decide to go a different route and hold the tupperware of chicken out to my sister, saying, “Behold, a man!”

This was evidently the wrong choice, as it meant I had to explain to my parents who Diogenes was, thereby cementing the incident in their minds and leading to me, just now, opening the fridge to see the following incredibly cursed image:

Really can't go wrong in fantasy with a giant skeleton being part of the environment. I'm talking colossal, part of the scenery bones.

Oh yes, let me wonder what the hell it is, how it died, how long it has been there. Let me walk on its ribs pathways, climb inside an eyesocket, look at where it fused with the nature around it.

Superhero concept where a hero can split their superpowered bodily systems apart and form a team.

Eat or be eaten

You guys want to play a game? REBLOG and put in the tags why you follow this person

Everyone always talks about The Flesh and its potential to relate to the transgender experience (and, well, as of the latest episodes of TMAGP, that's been canonly explored) but also: what about the experience of growing up fat?

Sucking in your stomach in pictures. Pinching the skin under your chin because you don't want to have a double chin. Noticing another stretch mark during puberty and ignoring it, storing in the farthest corner of your mind. The way your legs look in pictures. The way your tights look when you sit down. Keeping an arm constantly on your stomach. Noticing that you're slumping and straightening your back so the rolls are less noticeable.

Oh, and the nasty part. The comments other kids make. The comments your parents make. The awareness of not being curvy, just being fat. Plain fat. Wanting so bad to be desirable, by someone, anyone, but you're not skinny. You're not curvaceous, voluptuous, really your body is just...unflattering. The self-esteem issues. Thinking that every single picture of you is ugly, wretched, as you see others taking pictures of themselves so...casually. Fixating on the most miniscule parts of it all, the way your fingers aren't as slim as others', the way you look when you smile, the softness in you that you so deeply despise because it's not appealing. Not attractive. And it's all you want to be.

And don't even get me started on the intersection of being fat and trasmasc, that's a whole other can of worms.