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A non-sexual turn on for me is someone who is an intellectual-sparring partner. Someone you can debate with. Someone you can bounce ideas off of.
That shit is real erotic to me
Relational dialectics is the tension between stability and change in relationships. The changer seeks growth, while the acceptor values what already exists. Neither is wrong, but we often mistake what once kept us safe for what we actually need.
(Cont.)
Thinking bout putting a 15hp kicker motor on my boat for trolling. These are from my last fishing trip w/my dad and unc.
Some Kings and Coho salmon
You have to keep the tension between play and predictability, risk and safety, mystery and familiarity, novelty and the enduring. To feel secure, yet remain curious enough to never believe there is nothing left to discover. Desire lives in that gap
I love an enduring, capacious love. One that holds the mundane, the predictable, and the disenchanting. One that remains when life is touched by grief.
To still yearn for what I already have. To know life’s brevity, our mortality, and face the enormity of loss together
I believe that relationships are asymptote, the bittersweetness that intimacy is a pursuit, not a destination. The mystery of the other remains intact, there will always be a sliver of distance between what we long for and what we live. The gap holds space for curiosity, awe,
the discovery has ended. Closeness and fulfillment exist in tension, even when you think you’ve “figured out” your partner, life interrupts, grief/time reshapes them.
🏳️⚧️ romeo retweeted
I believe that relationships are asymptote, the bittersweetness that intimacy is a pursuit, not a destination. The mystery of the other remains intact, there will always be a sliver of distance between what we long for and what we live. The gap holds space for curiosity, awe,
No need for pre workout to get through my gym sessions. I just be having flashbacks of #her
🏳️⚧️ romeo retweeted
Duncan Trussell recorded this conversation with his mother while she was facing terminal cancer.
What you’re hearing isn’t scripted. It isn’t performed. It’s a son sitting with his dying mother trying to hold onto every word before the words run out.
And she, the one facing the end, is the one doing the comforting.
That is what makes these conversations so extraordinary. Not the wisdom itself, as profound as it is. But who it’s coming from. A woman who had every reason to be consumed by her own fear choosing instead to spend what little time remained helping her son understand how to live without her.
These recordings became the heart of The Midnight Gospel. And I always go back to watch it again.
They remain some of the most honest conversations about death, love and what it means to be human ever put on screen…
I always think bout that episode of Billy and Mandy where Billy was not tryna be the spider’s daddy lmfao
















