steam repeatedly notifying you that a friend is booting up a game thats clearly not cooperating feels like ur sitting inside and someone outside keeps trying to rev up a lawnmower
occasionally subtle
Mike Driver

Origami Around
Keni
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

blake kathryn
Three Goblin Art
YOU ARE THE REASON
Game of Thrones Daily
Not today Justin

Janaina Medeiros

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Jules of Nature
art blog(derogatory)

oozey mess
trying on a metaphor

pixel skylines
Cosimo Galluzzi
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Andulka
seen from United States

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seen from United States
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seen from Türkiye
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@drchinfat
steam repeatedly notifying you that a friend is booting up a game thats clearly not cooperating feels like ur sitting inside and someone outside keeps trying to rev up a lawnmower
the human body when you use it and exist in it
Was driving with my grandmother and in broken English she says “no eyes… no nose… no face. Don’t trust.” To which I looked around wildly in search of this omen of ill portend.
Cybertruck. It was a cybertruck.
you don't have to be scared of your suicidal friends. you don't have to be scared of your psychotic or delusional friends. you don't have to call the police every time someone says they feel like they want to die. you can say things like, "that sounds really hard" and "I'm going to bring you some food and you can tell me more about it"
There Are No Monsters: A Poem for the Women in Solitary Confinement by Kwaneta Harris
It’s no need for the hole. Ms. Josie’s fingernails trace maps across her arms, blood blooming like protest signs she cannot carry. Give her laundry duty, white socks paired with purpose, towels folded into squares of order. Her hands know how to work, they just forgot they could build instead of destroy. Watch her sort colors from whites, watch her hands remember they were made for more than pain.
It’s no need for the hole. Kay Kay don’t speak their language of compliance, her autism a country they refuse to learn. She wants grass beneath her body, sky above her wandering mind. Let her wear the wristband that explains what their training never taught them. Feed her outside where the earth makes sense, where following orders matters less than following birds.
It’s no need for the hole. Monique hears helicopters we cannot hear, phantom blades slicing through her sanity. She runs to her blanket like it’s a bunker, screams into fabric that cannot hold her. What if we said: Call us when they come. What if we said: Your fear is real even when the choppers ain’t. What if someone held her hand and stayed until the sky went quiet in her mind?
It’s no need for the hole. Janey knows what we don’t want to know: they take everything you wash away. So she keeps her strength, keeps her smell, keeps whatever piece of herself she can hold onto. But we have coaxed women into water before, stood outside shower stalls speaking soft, reminding them that clean don’t mean erased, that soap and solidarity can live in the same room.
It’s no need for the hole. They call it staff assault when a woman swings back, but who assaulted who first? Who put hands on her before she learned her body was a weapon she could use? The files don’t show the grip marks on her arms, the words that corner softer than any cell. They make her the monster so they don’t have to name the beast that wears a badge.
It’s no need for the hole. I been here almost nine years in this tomb, and I ain’t met one woman who belonged in solitary. Not one monster. Not one demon. Not one lost cause. The policymakers dream up creatures that don’t exist, write legislation for their nightmares, lock us away from their imagination’s failures. But I know what we need: overdose us with nature, with animals who don’t judge. Forest baths until our lungs remember green, puppies and kittens until our hands remember gentle, sun on our faces until our skin recalls it was meant to feel.
It’s no need for the hole. There never was. Just women the world gave up on before it even tried. Just women who needed laundry rooms and grass and hands to hold, who needed someone to say: I see you. I stay. The hole is a failure of imagination, a giving up dressed up as policy. Close it down and give us what we always needed: each other, the earth, and a chance to remember we were never monsters at all.
"Kwaneta Harris is a former nurse, business owner, and expat, now an incarcerated journalist. In her writing, she illuminates how the experience of being incarcerated in the largest state prison in Texas is vastly different for women in ways that directly map onto a culture rooted in misogyny. Her stories expose how the intersection of gender, race, and place contribute to state-sanctioned, gender-based violence. "
Friendly reminder that sensory processing disorder and autism are two separate conditions.
[PT: Friendly reminder that sensory processing disorder and autism are two separate conditions. /End PT]
95% of autistic people have SPD, but autism can occur without SPD. Those 5% of autistic people still matter, and shouldn't be told they're "not actually autistic" because they don't have sensory issues.
Additionally, SPD can occur without autism. SPD can be genetic, neurodevelopmental, from incidents occuring during fetal development/birth, from brain damage, and/or in response to trauma (particularly isolation or neglect, ie, tactile processing disorder can result from touch starvation.)
And SPD is an umbrella term for a lot of conditions as well - a person with SPD may only have one of these, or they may have multiple.
Types of SPD include:
-Sensory modulation disorder, in which a person has over-responsivity, under-responsivity, sensory seeking, or a mix of them. This could be tactile, visual, auditory, olfactory, gustatory, vestibular, proprioceptive, interoceptive, or a combination of multiple or all. -Sensory discrimination disorder (SDD), in which a person struggles to understand the details of their senses. This can have a variety of symptoms, such as mixing up senses (ie; mixing up nausea and hunger) being unable to identify something "obvious" when slightly altered (ie; unable to recognize a basketball when half of it is covered) processing senses out-of-order or without proper clarity (ie; processing the sounds of talking, but not being able to identify the words being spoken), etc. Subtypes include tactile DD, visual DD, auditory DD, olfactory DD, gustatory DD, vestibular DD, proprioceptive DD, and interoceptive DD. -Sensory-based motor disorder, in which a person struggles with movement due to sensory issues. Subtypes include postural disorder and dyspraxia.
All of these can occur in allistic (non-autistic) people. So don't automatically assume that a person with SPD is autistic, and vice versa.
my favorite genre of star trek photo: character(s) on an accidental pride flag background that really resonates with them
my collection grows
if anyone has any more please send em
“don’t be silly” um i think i will be silly thanks
My girlfriend and I are laying quietly in the pitch black bedroom. In a soft whisper with no inflection, I said, “Someone is here.”
My girlfriend’s whole body stiffens and they go, “What the FUCK!”
They didn’t feel the little kitty feet I felt or have the context so instead of understanding a cat was joining us in bed they thought I was signaling the start of a horror movie.
Okay so Victorian erotica is literally the most heinous, morally bankrupt, horrific shit I've ever read - but I've read a fair bit, partly from historical interest but also because a while back I helped a friend with a university project she was doing about censorship and pornography in 19th century England.
Anyway I need to share with you all the most hilarious line that has ever been written, circa 1887:
I feel like this excerpt is significantly enhanced by knowing that the novel in question is a first-person narrative written from the perspective of an inexplicably sapient flea who lives on Bella's body, and that's why the third priest's penis is described in this way: from the narrator's perspective it literally blots out the sky.
me when im a flea
Hey so it's come to my attention that the Creators of Disco Elysium want you to share the game and not give the company who took over and fired them (illegally)?) any profits off of their ideas and work, and I originally joined tumblr 2 weeks ago when that post was going around about the Steam sale and how you should [Skull and Crossbones flag] it instead.
So.
in light of that.
Check the replies/notes of this post :)
I was informed that posts containing links in them aren't findable in the search so i'll just.... drop a link in a seperate reboot :)
first things first though, copy this key:
q4-EJ9G2DV7MYYI-Vs0KdQ
here's the edited version with the captal YY in the key above!
2326 files and 29 subfolders
and also the Google drive link :
SMOKED SALMON IS THE ONLY THING THAT NUMBS THE PAIN
“I don’t like this expression “First World problems.” It is false and it is condescending. Yes, Nigerians struggle with floods or infant mortality. But these same Nigerians also deal with mundane and seemingly luxurious hassles. Connectivity issues on your BlackBerry, cost of car repair, how to sync your iPad, what brand of noodles to buy: Third World problems. All the silly stuff of life doesn’t disappear just because you’re black and live in a poorer country. People in the richer nations need a more robust sense of the lives being lived in the darker nations. Here’s a First World problem: the inability to see that others are as fully complex and as keen on technology and pleasure as you are.”
— Teju Cole (via feminizt)
Orgasm denial scenario in which it gradually becomes apparent that the dom has forgotten what criteria they set for being allowed to cum and is trying to stall for time.
A customer contacted our team with questions, and then finished their email with: "I am daunted by the complexities and unknowns." I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.
Reblog if you are daunted by the complexities and unknowns