remember that homestuck quote that was like “people are angry because they think reality is something happening to them and not something they’re helping create”
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@angeliczacharie
remember that homestuck quote that was like “people are angry because they think reality is something happening to them and not something they’re helping create”
everything will work out. maybe you won’t get what you currently want, but it will work out. there are a million possible futures for you, and they are all promising.
comic for a zine~!
that thursday feeling.
reading depressioncomix inspired me to do a little comic about my own day-to-day experience.
I’ve seen some comments on this being like “Oh he’s way too active this isn’t how severe clinical depression works!” which makes me a little sad because implying everyone’s experience of depression must be just like yours is insulting. This comic is about how depression still deeply affects me despite my attempts at a normal life but that it becomes almost mundane, you take a break to cry and scream and feel sorry for yourself but then you have to go back to doing whatever. I have almost no energy but I gotta live.
Saying you need to constantly be at your lowest and most dysfunctional in order to have Real Clinical Depression isn’t realistic. Learning to cope with this illness that will likely haunt me my whole life isn’t a bad thing.
circadian rhythm? no, i have a cicadian rhythm. i sleep for 10 years and then scream fuck and die all at once. i do this every day.
hi this is actually my all time favorite tumblr post
ghost choir 👻 🎵
I DID NOT THINK ANYTHING COULD TOP GHOST DUET
I WAS WRONG
I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO HAPPY TO BE WRONG IN ALL MY LIFE
Happy Halloween the 1st!
after dying god informs you that hell is a myth, and “everyone sins, its ok”. instead the dead are sorted into six “houses of heaven” based on the sins they chose.
We arrived first at the House of Lust. “House” is a misleading term. It was more of a camp, spread over acres and acres of lush forest. There was a white sandy beach (nude, of course) full of copulating couples. There were little cabins sprinkled all along the path, from which orgasmic moans regularly came belting out. Men with six pack abs and women with perky breasts strolled by without even noticing me and God. They only had eyes for each other, tickling and pinching each other with flirtatious giggles.
“What do you think?” God asked as we passed a nineteen-way taking place in a pool of champagne. Little cherubs flitted overhead armed with mops and cleaning supplies, thankfully. “Lust is our most popular sin.” I eyed the supermodel-like figures of a couple passing nearby, and could easily see why. “You can look however you want. Hell, you can be whatever gender you want. No fetish is too taboo, and no desire can be denied here.”
It was quite tempting, but I wasn’t ready to make a permanent decision here. “Let’s see the others,” I told God.
We carried on to Greed. We passed rows and rows of mansions, each more opulent than the next. Some of them were so large that they would have had enough bed rooms to fit my entire hometown. And so many different styles: one second, we were in a beautiful French vineyard in front of a gorgeous chateau with the Alps in the background. The next second, a warm tropical beach with a modern mansion atop breathtaking cliffs. After that, a ski chalet in Colorado with a roaring fire in a hearth large enough to fit an ox. Each one had various Italian sports cars and Rolls Royces parked in front, with the occasional smattering of boats, helicopters, etc.
“Any material desire you ever wanted,” God explained. “Your own world, where you can have everything. You want the Hope Diamond? You can fly to Washington DC in your own solid gold helicopter and buy it from the Smithsonian. Hell, you can just buy the Smithsonian.”
Also tempting, but I decided to keep looking.
Gluttony was next up. Tables and tables of the very finest foods: beautiful steaks cooked medium rare; butter-poached lobster tail; fresh oysters on a half shell; exotic wines in dusty bottles that had been hiding in the cellars of the world’s finest restaurants. Everyone had a glass of champagne in hand and simply lounged on couches and chairs near the tables, eating endlessly. As soon as the inhabitants took a bite, the food just instantly came back. My mouth watered even watching them.
“In every other House, the food is practically sawdust compared to Gluttony,” God explained. “You haven’t truly experienced heaven until you’ve been to Gluttony.”
I shook my head, and we kept moving.
Sloth was as you’d expect. An endless sea of the softest mattresses, stacked with cushions and pillows that made the story of the princess and the pea seem minimalist. Little angels visited each resident, giving them massages that made them all melt into their blankets.
Wrath was… well, a lot like what I’d expect Hell to be like. Fire, brimstone, whips, torture.. you know, the works. Except here, you weren’t the one being tortured. Every enemy you’d ever made in your real life was now under your thumb. “Lots of people choose their fathers,” God explained. “Lots of grudges against parents in general, you know. But you’re not limited to that. Someone beat you out for a big promotion back on Earth? Take your pound of flesh here.”
Then we arrived at Envy. It looked… well, a lot like home.
“Go on in,” God said, gesturing toward the door. I turned the knob and walked in… and found Emily waiting inside. She ran forward, wrapped her arms around my neck, and planted a kiss right on my lips. “Welcome home, honey.”
I looked back toward God. “Oh, don’t be coy,” he said. “You have no secrets from me. We all know that you were in love with your best friend’s wife.” She didn’t seem to hear him at all; she went back into the hall. “We all know that you just settled for your own wife while secretly pining after her. Well, this is your chance to live happily ever after.”
I peered into the kitchen. Emily was baking something, wearing nothing but an apron. Her curly black hair fell softly over her shoulder as she whisked ingredients. She turned back, noticed I was observing her, and an enthusiastic smile spread across her face.
“It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” God whispered in my ear.
I wanted to take it. God damn did I want to take it. But I shook my head.
God seemed puzzled. “You need to make a decision,” he told me.
“I haven’t seen Pride yet.”
He scoffed. “No one ever wants Pride, trust me.”
“Well, I want to see it.”
_________________________
Pride was boring. Just a row of workbenches in a bare white room.
“I don’t get it,” I told God.
“Yeah, no one does,” he answered. “That’s why no one ever chooses it. Doesn’t cavorting in Lust sound better than sitting here building little trinkets for the rest of eternity? Wouldn’t you rather gorge yourself in Gluttony? Or spend time with Emily in Envy?”
I considered the options again. “I pick Pride,” I finally told him.
He narrowed his eyes. “What? Look at it!” He gestured around the room again. There wasn’t much to look at. “Why would you choose this for the rest of time?”
“Because you don’t want me to pick it,” I told him. If he was really God, he’d know what a contrarian I can be. And I knew he was hiding something, trying to pretend like Pride didn’t exist. There was something special about it.
God scowled back. “Fine.” He led me over to one of the workbenches. In the center, there was a black space. A blank, empty void that went on forever. “Here’s your universe,” he said. “You’ve got seven days to get started.” He took his seat at the bench next to me and went back to tinkering in his own world. After a long pause, he finally spoke again: “You know, it might be nice for me to actually have some company for once.”
FUCKING I MEAN.
IT’S LIKE 7AM AND I LOVE GONNA REBLOG SO I CAN READ THIS SHIT AGAIN
if you’re ever scared you’re not a good person, remember that bad people don’t care about being better
This is actually very important, so I’m gonna hit that reblog button again
it can be tempting to live your life like a prequel. to live as if you’re setting up your own story.and once you lose the weight, once you have the money, once you graduate school, once you’re in a real relationship, once, once, once. then finally, you’ll begin to live, and everything you do up until that point is some kind of half-life, some unimportant foreword you can skip. don’t do this. inhabit your life completely. sink fully into the wealth of your existence. the power to manifest is in the fearless owning of who you are, so that you can shape where you’re going.
the funniest part of katmai fat bear week is the comments on the obviously smaller bears pictures like “i’m sorry king 😔✊ we love you but your opponent is simply very fat. we still love you”
op?? where are grazers ears???
not op but i do have pics of grazer!!! behold her ears...
Day 12 of Inktober! :D Dragon~ Hatori from Fruits Basket ^^
You know how we talk about (cis)men and (cis)women handling minor illnesses like colds/fevers differently? Like, men become useless while women continue to do household work?
I'd just like to let everyone know that after being on testosterone for two years, my experience with colds has changed pretty dramatically. Previously the worst symptom was congestion, so I'd take decongestants or anti-inflammatories or something and go about my day. Now, my worst symptom is fatigue, by far. During the worst of the cold, I can't be on my feet for more than a couple hours. I need to sleep a lot. I'm winded from walking from one room to another. Congestion still happens, but not quite as intensely. It's just that nothing will help me stay awake and active.
I guess my point is that in a domestic setting, healthy people can shoulder more work than sick people, and they can hopefully do it without going, "Well when I'm sick..."
I understand more and more things about cisgender men the longer I’m on testosterone. I know why teenage boys use so much axe now. I understand the crying thing. I know why they accidentally break things. I know why they wear shorts in the snow. I know why so many of them don’t use washcloths. I see everything.
Okay. Y’all want explainations? I’ll tell you all the things.
Testosterone makes you warm. With young men especially it can actually get really uncomfortable while their testosterone levels are at their peak. Often times coats and winter pants will keep in all their heat and it gets uncomfortable. So it makes sense to pick a part of the body to be exposed to help them stay cool. The legs tend to be the least uncomfortable part of the body to feel cold on. The arms are uncomfortable, the face hurts when it gets cold, and the torso is where all the important stuff is. It doesn’t actually hurt that much to have your lower legs exposed and there’s no important organs there so that’s what they go with to keep themselves from overheating in their winter jackets. Along this same vein, they might take their shirts off to jog or just have a naked torso in general during the summer because they’re in more danger of overheating than estrogen dominant people. Older men, children, and estrogen dominant people tend to do this stuff less because they have less testosterone and are therefore colder.
The axe thing is because of testosterone as well. Early on in puberty especially and into adulthood as well boys and men will stink no matter how hard they try. People often complain about how men don’t shower enough and while there is some truth to that testosterone makes you sweaty and it makes your smell last longer. It doesn’t smell worse than women’s BO, but it is harder to get rid of and easier to get. Before I started taking T I could get away with taking a shower every other day or even every three days. Now I have to take a shower every day. And some days when I shower, put on deodorant, put body spray on my clothes, avoid heavy physical activity, I still end up smelling awful. I just smell bad and there’s only so much I can do about it and that bottle of axe starts looking really tempting.
With crying? Testosterone just makes you cry less. You still feel all the same emotions. You just don’t cry as much. Men are often socialized to not cry, yes, but even those who haven’t been taught that still cry less. That’s just how testosterone works. They hit puberty and then it’s just harder to cry. It doesn’t necessarily mean they feel less than estrogen dominant people or that they’re repressed. They just have a different physical reaction to emotion.
They accidentally break things because testosterone makes it easier to gain muscle. Sometimes you even do it without meaning to. I already accidentally grabbed or slammed things too hard. Now I have to consciously be gentle. Some people forget about being gentle for a split second. Then things break. Sometimes I look at my hands now like what the hell did I just do. Relearning how to know my own strength. It’s a learning process.
The thing where some men don’t use washcloths and use their hands or a bar of soap instead isn’t because they’re lazy. It’s because they’re covered in hair and the washcloth pulls at it. It’s really uncomfortable actually.
WOW THAT IS AWESOME INFO
This sounds like spiderman finding his superpowers
God, I love that comparison.
Op have you felt the urge to slap the top of the doorframe yet?
OKAY I REALLY WANNA KNOW THAT TOO WHY DO THEY DO THAT???
That one is to test how tall they’re getting. Men are on average six inches taller than women and it’s fun when you get really tall and can reach stuff you never could before. Once they’re done growing it’s either to demonstrate how tall they are to other people or just because it’s fun. Jumping is fun and slapping the doorframe demonstrates both your height and how high you can jump, or if you’re so tall you don’t need to jump. Hitting stuff is fun too when nobody gets hurt from it. I did that even before I started T lol. I stopped growing before I started T but I still do it because it’s fun. It’s just one of life’s little joys. For a lot of people it also just becomes a habit. Like tapping on a desk when you’re thinking or giving your friend a high five whenever you pass them.
wow I appreciate knowing this so much
Most people: “Huh, looks like it’s about impossible to guess the difference between biological and socialized gender behaviors. Let’s just pick a few semi-plausible generalizations and shame everyone who–”
Trans people on hormone therapy, finally in a culture that sometimes lets them talk a little bit: “OH HEY SO IT’S STILL ALL SUBJECTIVE AND COMPLICATED, BUT WE HAVE SOME VERY PRECISE POINTS OF INFORMATION FOR YOU.”
Most people: “Oh shit that’s useful.”
This is anthropology
the whole “i used to be a teen who hated authority only to grow up to become the authority that hates teens” is a bad bad thing that practically every other generation has fallen into and we all need to make an extremely conscious effort not to repeat the fucking pattern
Studies have shown that the shift starts to happen around age 30. If you’re close to that, make a conscious effort to be open to and accepting of younger people. I’m 31 and paying close attention to how I react to young people and new trends and shit and trying to keep myself from developing those thought patterns.
noted
must a woman be “beautiful”? is it not enough that she shake her fist at God and commit acts of heresy in the name of hedonism and lunar madness