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wallacepolsom
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
dirt enthusiast
AnasAbdin
tumblr dot com
⁂
One Nice Bug Per Day
almost home
Origami Around
oozey mess
Three Goblin Art
sheepfilms
hello vonnie
occasionally subtle
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Sade Olutola
YOU ARE THE REASON
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seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from United States
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@halfire
Missionary being eaten by a jaguar (by Noé León, 1907)
hi. i'm hal, but i go by a lot of names. i'm 25, and my pronouns are they/them, he/him, and ae/aer. u can find more here :3
i like a lot of things that i tend to delegate off to side blogs.
i fear there is something physically wrong with me i don't think this level of exhaustion is the norm
Not to be dramatic but this is a massive fucking deal and I legitimately hope every single politician dies.
Important addition from their socials
They removed all Transgender references references from the Stonewall website.
It's not on Trans people to fix this. If we're not here for each other, what are we here for?
This doesn't stand with me. If it stands with you, you can leave this page and never return.
Get the word out. For Marsha. Let's become a problem.
It’s a small thing, but this page allows you to submit comments.
Thank you! Not small, It's actionable ♥️
Scroll down until it asks "Was this page helpful?", click No, then it lets you give feedback.
ive decided to become a Lawful Good edgelord abt driving a car. *looks broodily away from you* what's wrong...? no, you wouldn't understand. I've been burdened with a great and terrible power. a lethal metal machine that obeys my every whim but which whispers dark things to me...tempting me to move ever faster, to grow careless in my movements... I've seen this power corrupt many others. my father. my great-aunt veronica. I've seen them neglect the wisdom of the turn signal. I've seen them text while driving. every day I must remain vigilant lest I become over-used to this dark power......
do you ever say something and then think "wow this isnt even a bit. im just like this"
do yoo evew say someting and den tink “wow dis isn’t even a bit!! im just wike dis UwU”
This post has been UwU-ified!
i feel dirty after reading that
do yoo need a scwubby wubby? OwO
i think i do need a scwubby wubby to be honest but not from you
When is it my turn to be happy.
i need a very tiny leash and collar so i can walk my alcohol molecule
His name is Vodka and he’s my favorite pet.
The deer often take refuge in my yard and I saw the cutest thing this morning ;-; I had to film it.
are you five nights at fucking kidding me
literally no one knows how to be fans of musicians in a respectful, non-intrusive way anymore, except for my mutuals, who are trying to convince 82 year old bob dylan that he is nonbinary
ya gotta stop caring what people think and start being extremely weird. but never cruel. i think that might save you
lets jerk off.. together.. take my hand. wait no i need my handfor this sorry
I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.
I really do mean this sympathetically. we are not well equipped as a culture to grapple with the implications of power and violence, because we are intimately saturated in it from birth. cruelty feels natural, and that's hard to unlearn.
a bunch of things that I know are going to sound really corny (which honestly I think is half the cultural problem - the idea that non-coercive parenting is touchy-feely, ineffectual or just kind of cringe - but that could be a whole other post)
the main thing was that they always explained things to me. if I wanted something I couldn't have, they explained why (from 'we can't afford that', 'it's bad for you', 'it's dangerous', all the way up to 'it's made by a big company that treats its workers badly, and we don't want to give them money'). If I threw a tantrum, they either waited it out until I got tired and bored or they redirected what we were doing ('we have to be patient and wait in line. if we don't wait in line, we can't go into the theatre. we can't wait in line if you scream and upset people. okay then, we're going home.')
beyond that, they always spoke to me like a full person. they asked my opinion on things and took it seriously, and asked me why as much as I asked them. apparently I had a phase as a toddler where I always wanted to be the first one on the swings / down the slide, and would throw almighty fits about it, until my mum took me aside one day and said 'why do you want to be first? are you worried the slide will get used up?' I laughed like it was the funniest thing I'd ever heard, and never kicked up a fuss about taking turns after that.
on the granular level, they focused on positives over negatives. My mum would draw little good behaviour charts for me, featuring e.g. me walking a long winding path through the woods with my soft toys. the path would be made up of, say, 30 stones, and every day that I was well behaved I'd earn a sticker on one of them. when I reached the end of the path, I got to pick a treat. something like a new plastic animal for my collection, or a day trip to the aquarium.
I do remember them sitting me down once and asking me to come up with what I thought would be an appropriate punishment if I ever did something really bad. I think my first suggestion was something like 'no TV', which was a real nice try because we didn't have a TV at the time. I don't remember what I finally decided on, it might have been 'no dessert for a week'. We wrote it down together and I signed my name, and they sealed it in an important looking envelope which they put in my dad's filing cabinet (for important documents). This would be unsealed if I ever did something Really Bad. the eventuality never came up, but the act of participating in the exercise kept me mostly on the straight and narrow. It's funny, the conceptual punishment itself wasn't even that bad. It was the seriousnes of the adult commitment I'd made to Behaving Well that did the trick.
When I DID do the standard naughty stuff, my parents would just sit me down and explain to me seriously why it was wrong and what impact it had caused for other people. They'd ask what motivated me, and why I acted on those feelings in that specific way. They would, of course, tell me they were disappointed. If necessary, they would tell me how things would have to change as a result of what I'd done. They were always, always open to hearing out my side of the story, and always, always took my feelings seriously even if they disapproved of my behaviour. they would ask if I was ready to say sorry and get a hug. if I wasn't ready, if I was still upset or angry, they would give me space in my room and ask me to come find them when I wanted to make up. and I always did, because I always knew they would accept it.
No, I am not 'hoarding craft supplies.' I am sourcing materials for a very big project that will be revealed to me at a later date- perhaps in a dream.
