A MUTANT FAITH @freymilf - Tumblr Blog

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Hold onto that moment when you first called yourself an anarchist. Whatever your story, surely it was a refusal, a preference not to, saying “no.” You may not realize it, but this is the first time in your life you set a boundary with a world that attempts to erode your capacity to do so. Find that moment and that affect and hold firmly to it. Whatever else may be taken from you, they cannot take this.

Be Gay Do Crime by Mary Nardini Gang

#Mary Nardini Gang #anarchist theory #anarchy #anarchism #queer #queer anarchism

cheaphalloweencostume

i need to come up with a way to say “i mean like, movies for grownups” that doesn’t make me feel like a villain

cheaphalloweencostume

*peeks in the replies* *gets really nervous and locks my house up and leaves*

cheaphalloweencostume

well, i mean more like La Piscine or Mulholland Drive,

cheaphalloweencostume

i think i am going insane

mrblackhaironthestreet

Apparently it is impossible for Tumblr users to think of a not ageist way to describe their tastes, because everything must always be compared to how inferior children are -- despite the fact that it is pretty much never the choice of any child or children when media aimed at them is dumbed down etc.

Things when bad: kids and children are involved!

Things when good: this is very Adult this is specifically Adult only Adults can understand or want this

cheaphalloweencostume

i literally just don’t want to watch Kung Fu Panda

cheaphalloweencostume

okay we’ve come all the way back around. let’s pack this up. this post is done. “who asked” you just walked into my post that i made on my blog..? who asked YOU?? am i losing my fucking mind?????

herpsandbirds

BUGS IS SHRIMPS.

onenicebugperday

Surreal insect paintings by Nathiola on Reddit (Posted with permission!)

This artist on Instagram

knightesscordelia

There are four categories of people you will meet: Underlings, superiors, rivals, and love interests. One of my underlings has been attempting to convince me of the existence of a fifth category, "friend", which appears to have no purpose. I suspect it is a ploy to get out of performing her duties.

anais-sinclair-official

If you have enough passion in your heart, superiors, rivals, and even some underlings can also be love interests.

drcuriouslxix

an underling love interest isn't a person they are a Toy

estrogeon

labmousegirl

one of the things that makes autism a disability (and why some of us choose to label it as such rather than an “alternate neurotype”) is the stress.

part of autism is just being incredibly stressed. overstimulation? stress. holding a conversation? stress. something happening to our schedule? stress. people talk about how often autism is recognized and diagnosed via our stress responses (like meltdowns) because it is just so common to see autistic people stressed because of lack of accommodations to how our brains work.

and this matters because stress kills. stress causes a lot of health issues, or it can trigger pre-existing ones by making certain chronic conditions flare up. i once had a psychiatrist very unhelpfully tell me i “just need to manage my stress” when the stress i was describing was things i could not avoid in neurotypical society and can’t “just get over”. i can do “self care” all i like but i cannot at the very base level change the way my brain inputs information and reacts accordingly.

roach-works

i only learned this year that loud noises aren’t physically painful for other people. i have lived 34 years in a world in which my friends and family regularly physically hurt me at random just by shouting, and i thought everyone else just thought i was kind of a wimp for not dealing with the pain as well as they did.

like. loud noises physically hurt. it’s like a static shock from my ears to my spine that doesn’t stop until the volume goes back down. i thought we all agreed that ‘that’s too loud!’ and covering our ears meant ‘ouch!’. turns out i’ve been dealing with a stressor almost no one else has, my whole life, alone.

autistic people have to keep functioning through debilitating levels of stress that no one else in their life acknowledges or helps them with. it’s no wonder that their most visible ‘tells’ are breakdowns.

yanguang

things you can find on taobao:

夏季创意小众老干妈短袖3d印花T恤个性潮流青少年男女圆领套装

reading-writing-revolution

thomasmomwell

bintro

is anyone else their father’s female son

onedesertrat

thejorie-deactivated20160327

My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.

pebleeee-deactivated20151227

do they smoke weed?

thejorie-deactivated20160327

Yes, actually.

gucciballs-deactivated20200720

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?

thejorie-deactivated20160327

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

gccgrimm-deactivated20160818

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

thejorie-deactivated20160327

Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

madamekagamine

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

thejorie-deactivated20160327

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING

19leahjade96

Well that escalated quickly……

thejorie-deactivated20160327

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

jackaxed

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

thejorie-deactivated20160327

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot… *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

anemonequeen-moved

this dude playin omg

thejorie-deactivated20160327

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.* Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*