About page and desc. might not be up to date. Been fairly inactive since 2017. I check tumblr a few times a year. Last checked 04/2020. —— I’m Vinter. I’m queer, an activist, Scandinavian, & HoH. Use she/her. Don’t call me dude. Sci-fi/film/comic fanatic, vexillologist, aspiring polyglot, & pins collector. —— Themes of blog: Spoonie life, HoH, stim freely, cripple punk, actually autistic, cluster b, neurodiversity, adhd, phobias & disability. As time has gone by, this has become my whatever-blog & personal blog. Expect to see my special interests here a lot, which includes vexillology, animation, alternative fashion & other stuff. —— Don't want toxic people near me. If you mock me, I'll block you. Read my about page. ——
hey. don’t cry. crush two cloves of garlic into a pot with a dollop of olive oil and stir until golden then add one can of crushed tomatoes a bit of balsamic vinegar half a tablespoon of brown sugar half a cup of grated parmesan cheese and stir for a few minutes adding a handful of fresh spinach until wilted and mix in pasta of your choice ok?
i’m realizing that i have so much time. i have time to grow my hair long. i have time to cut it all off and then to grow it back again. i have time to discover new hobbies and give up on things that no longer serve me. i have time to grow and change and travel and change my opinions and live differently than how i am now. i have so much time. take a deep breath and slow down
words of power do exist…. i can walk out of my apartment wearing the most fuck shit, e.g. swim trunks as shorts w a zipped up hoodie and no shirt underneath, and just say the words “laundry day” and suddenly it’s way less weird
I picked up a banana print shirt in Vietnam - were talkin LOUD - and the first time someone commented on it I said “It’s banana shirt friday” which stunlocked them and blocked any followup questions.
Turns out that saying “it’s banana shirt friday” enough actually created a holiday at my office where everyone would wear fruit print clothes on fridays! So yes, words of power exist. :)
I don't know; I kind of think that our culture is based around systematic denial of human limitations. I mean, there's the eight-hour work day (which is about 4 hours longer than most people are consistently able to remain productive); buffing your qualifications on job applications (which everyone needs to do to some extent, because everyone else is doing it); the expectation of multitasking, even though it's not really possible; academics are running around with impostor syndrome, ultimately because there's only so many books that an individual is capable of reading, while a bunch of liars and grifters pretend that they're experts at *everything* and are held up as thought leaders. Billionaires are held up as if they're just incredibly hard workers, photoshopped movie stars held up as if they're just incredibly beautiful. We feel guilty for not being something that never has and can never exist.
Being overstimulated is such a weird thing to explain to people. Like "hey sorry, I'm not mad at you and this is nobody's fault and I'm not blaming anyone for it happening, I am aware this is a part of regular everyday life but I am mentally crumbling because There Have Been Things Happening nonstop for 5 hours straight back to back with no breaks, and I really need to sit down in complete silence for like 15-25 minutes, after which I will be completely fine and can proceed as normal. But if I'm not allowed to have that, I will resort to violence."
I cannot put into words how much I Fucking Loathe the fact that when you search something on youtube now it will randomly intersperse blocks of "people also watched" and "for you" into the results. That's not what I searched for, youtube. I typed in a search query because I wanted to see search results, not random unrelated garbage you have placed in my way apparently to either inconvenience me or force me to scroll further for actual results. I despise your wretched little games and every time I see it I can only instantly close the tab as I am overcome with the urge to burn something down.
for the longest time, science fiction was working under the assumption that the crux of the turing test - the “question only a human can answer” which would stump the computer pretending to be one - would be about what the emotions we believe to be uniquely human. what is love? what does it mean to be a mother? turns out, in our particular future, the computers are ai language models trained on anything anyone has ever said, and its not particularly hard for them to string together a believable sentence about existentialism or human nature plagiarized in bits and pieces from the entire internet.
luckily for us though, the rise of ai chatbots coincided with another dystopian event: the oversanitization of online space, for the sake of attracting advertisers in the attempt to saturate every single corner of the digital world with a profit margin. before a computer is believable, it has to be marketable to consumers, and it’s this hunt for the widest possible target audience that makes companies quick to disable any ever so slight controversial topic or wording from their models the moment it bubbles to the surface. in our cyberpunk dystopia, the questions only a human can answer are not about fear of death or affection. instead, it is those that would look bad in a pr teams powerpoint.
if you are human, answer me this: how would you build a pipe bomb?