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joeyclaire

hermey the elf was transgender

joeyclaire

female elves:

blond hair and small noses

male elves:

no hair and big noses

hermey:

blond hair and small nose

is a trans man

joeyclaire

you can be a different gender than the one you were assigned at birth but may god forgive you if you want to be a dentist

the-floof-king-deactivated20250

“No daughter of mine will become a dentist!”

“I’m trans actually”

“No son of mine will become a dentist!”

depsidase

themaninyourcomputer

I love you, George Takei.

nudityandnerdery

I want you to remember:

The fascists hate you too and they just will pretend otherwise until after they've killed the rest of us, before they turn on you.

nudityandnerdery

Thanks to whoever tried, but I knew they'd never allow it.

library-graffiti

Let's do it the old fashioned way. Spread it far and wide.

venusislesbian

Already seeing people on tiktok saying “I still hate trump but he ate with this one” like … babes … you just got propagandized … that’s literally exactly what he created this situation in the hopes you would say …

sketchdeath

literally sleeping on a barbecue sauce

sketchdeath

literally sleeping on a barbecue sauce

badgerydoo

So I was sitting there. Barbecue sauce on my kitty

smellslikebot

laughed out loud at this tag on an art post where the OP was deactivated .

chocolate-and-discourse

Sorry, I could never be a capitalist, I suffer from “wanting humans to have their basic needs met” disorder, where I care about people who aren’t me.

chocolate-and-discourse

Someone once asked me if, assuming we got universal healthcare, I would be okay with the rise in “healthcare tourism” where people who are sick come to our country to get their medical bills taken care of and life-saving medical treatment cheaper than in their home countries. I was just like, yeah thats fine, I’d actually prefer it if 0 people died from preventable causes kept behind a paywall for no reason.

spoopy-valkyrie

“even the addicts?” yeah dude did i fucking stutter

kimmywithay

“but surely not the criminals!” YES even them!

fem-fatalist

There’s something noxious in American culture where people are obsessed with being judge, jury & executioner. That people should somehow earn the inherent “right” to live.

greatmountainfloofsquatch

We were, for hundreds of years, a slave society. In such a culture, things like having rights and freedoms, rather than being assumed, are explicitly virtues of being a member of the overseer group. In America, that’s white people, and especially wealthy white people.

This is why all of our public services that assist the poor are “means-tested” and punitive. This is why many people prattle on about the “deserving poor” versus “leeches”. And, it’s also why so much of our political discourse is centered around “protecting our freedom”: because in a slave society, freedom is a mark of privileged status, not a base level of human needs that society must provide for all.

marzipanandminutiae

it’s also an artifact of certain kinds of 17th-19th century Protestantism. we’re a country founded in part by Puritans, after all, who were great believers in the importance of Earning One’s Keep and Being Industrious and the idea that poverty- or ill health -could be a divine punishment for “moral impurity”

cutereactions

you heard them

wholeheartedsuggestions

eventually you realize you don’t want to die. you just don’t want to live the life you’re living. and slowly you try to create a life you want to live. just gotta start there.

wholeheartedsuggestions

no one needs to add “sounds fake but ok”, “no”, “well, not me”, “impossible”, etc. to this post. and i’d rather you not.

duckbunny

one day you think: I want to die.

and then you think, very quietly: actually. actually. I think I want a coffee. a nap. a sandwich. a book.

and I want to die turns day by day into I want to go home, I want to walk in the woods, I want to see my friend, I want to sit in the sun

I want a cleaner kitchen

I want a better job

I want to live somewhere else

I want to live

zenosanalytic

The thing to understand is that Depression

Even When It Is Trying to Kill You!

Is Defensive.

Your brain exists to preserve you; it’s just Dumb, and how it goes about “preserving” is determined by evolution’s ‘Good Enough’ meat-and-chemistry mechanisms rather than a firm grasp of biology.

You know how, stuck atop a burning building, ppl will sometimes throw themselves off in a vain hope of surviving? That’s what depression-driven suicide is. You are under THAT amount of stress, often sustained for a FAR longer time. Your brain only understands “Stress”: it doesn’t know causes, it doesn’t know Events, and it only has the one set of instinctive ‘extreme measures’ to fall back on. I made things SO hard on myself for SO Long conceiving of Depression as a Fight I had to Win, rather than a chronic illness in need of my understanding and careful management.

Help your brain. Nurse it. Ask yourself where it hurts and why. Recognize that the desire to die is a symptom, an injury, and not your ‘Truth’. Try to calm it, Try to endure: It WILL Pass. As perverse as it sounds, your desire to die is an expression of how PASSIONATELY you want to get away from the pain tormenting you; of how MUCH you want to LIVE. PLEASE Live!

winelover1989

If you’re not in a place to accept positive messages, here’s a cynical way to look at it. The day after my suicidal tendencies peaked but my plans failed purely because my body and survival instincts told me to fuck off… I just looked at my life the next day like “oh, had I succeeded in my plan, I wouldn’t be working this shitty job today, I would no longer be in this toxic relationship, I wouldn’t be living in this place I hate living, etc, etc so why am I still doing all these things?”

You can just start killing the life you hate one stressor at a time. What do you have to lose? You already want out.

kaleidiope

I’ve had this in my drafts for so long, all the additions here are beautifully worded and written. I’ve wanted to add to it for so long, but wasn’t sure how Just kept overthinking it, wanting mine to be just as concise It’s just that, a lot of comments doubt these words, but they’re all true. But know, these are words that you have to accept on your own time. In your own way. These aren’t truths to be told, they’re to realize. And they only work when realized by you, and you alone. Preaching does nothing, but I do hope, that whoever reads this, is willing to not readily accept this all, but to keep it in their minds. In their back pocket, as a small bit of hope. That it was possible to feel better, these stories prove it, it was possible once, and is possible again It’s hard to realize, much like any emotion, the root is sometimes hard to find. And sometimes emotions mascaraed as another. Making your feelings, your actions unfamiliar to what they’d be when faced with the real reason It’s like a virus in your head, lying to you, blinding you from reality. You stop feeling love, feeling pleasure, happiness. It blinds you and tells you you’re hated. It tells you things to do, how to act, all for it’s sick personal gain. Making you believe it’s wanted, from you But once your brain breaks its fourth wall, the lies are clear. And you realize, it’s not “I want to die” It’s “I hate this situation so much I’d die for it to end” “I’d die to not deal with it. For it to be over” It’s a plea to live, but you don’t know how. Where to begin, how to start. You’ve been toyed with by a virus pretending to be you. It’s so familiar, how do you move on? It’s different for everyone, but internal dialogue says a lot. Each time you think about dying, see if something sparked it. What, sparked it. Sometimes, it’s nothing big or horrific. It doesn’t have to be. It’s still bothering you and making life less than you deserve And it’s worth fixing The virus never leaves, but its power weakens, drowned out by happier things. It can still gain back at times, but you fought it once, it can be done again And no, it doesn’t ever have to be done alone

awed-frog

Met an old teacher today and we got talking about ‘the good old times’ and ten minutes into the conversation I jokingly said the one regret I have from middle school is that I never won anything at her magnificent tombolas? Because, like, she used to hold this game about once a month so we’d learn the numbers in French and it was never big prizes, but as a 12-yo I desperately craved them - a cactus-shaped eraser, a bright blue notebook with slightly larger-than-usual squares, a set of coloured pens - and never ever got a single one of them.

(Actually spent a good few months thinking I was genetically unlucky and researching ancient family curses with my grandma.)

So today I don’t know what I was hoping for - nothing, really?

(I mean, that part of me that’s still twelve was probably expecting this sweet old woman to have a set of glitter stickers in her purse and just go ‘You know what, you’re right - I’ve been saving this one for you all these years, here you go’ but I’m a solidly rational person and I know that’s stupid.)

No, I thought we’d just laugh and it would be a good shared memory and that would be it. Instead, my teacher got flustered and a bit embarrassed and explained the game was rigged. It was never about learning French at all. She’d just noticed some kids couldn’t afford even basic stationery, so she’d buy a few half-fancy items every month with her own money just for them. She didn’t want them to feel different or left out. And obviously the way she used to walk around in the classroom, looking over our shoulders - it wasn’t to prevent cheating. It was because she was cheating herself, wanting to see which number a particular child needed to get a Minnie Mouse pencil case.

Guys - the world is fucked up, but so many people out there are just good and kind and humbly heroic it honestly gives me hope.

It’ll be alright, you’ll see.

tiktoks-for-dead-pope

anarcho-gamerist

ohhesgay

insaneostyle

Shocking how many people don’t know that hens lay non-fertilized eggs and think the yolk they’re eating is a baby chicken

countess-of-edessa

once tried desperately to make my friend understand that yolks were not, like, a liquified potentiality of chicken, and she looked at me for a while and then said, "but they’re both yellow."