the entire point of life is to be silly, kind, and really weird btw.
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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The Stonewall Inn

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we're not kids anymore.
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EXPECTATIONS

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Claire Keane
YOU ARE THE REASON
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@itsallreallythere
the entire point of life is to be silly, kind, and really weird btw.
A plethora of leafhoppers at the porch light! Peep that funky looking striped yellow gentleman: a Japanese maple leafhopper!
We could have had real life Lisa Simpson but noooo, you all had to go and be white supremacists
YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN HANDLE CRITIQUE. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN EMBRACE BEING TOLD YOU WERE WRONG. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN ACCOMPLISH UNPLEASANT TASKS. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN DELIVER DISAPPOINTING NEWS. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU KNOW HOW TO BE DISAGREED WITH. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN BE CORRECTED. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN BE TOLD YOU MESSED UP. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU ARE ABLE TO DO HARD THINGS.
Of course it goes without saying that I am hopelessly dependent on the ingot
Oh... There's a name that I've not heard... In some time.
please read this even if you're not indian. especially if you're not indian.
you've seen the jokes. india is "dirty", indians are "everywhere", why don't they fix their own country. ok. let me tell you why, and what's happening right now while nobody's watching.
first, the history you skipped: britain ruled india for two centuries and drained it. economist utsa patnaik's research estimates around $45 trillion in today's money was taken. the india that got independence in 1947 was one of the poorest countries on earth. every "why is india like this" question starts there. you don't get to profit off a robbery and then mock the crime scene.
now, what's happening RIGHT NOW:
in may the question paper for NEET leaked. that's the national medical entrance exam. over 2.2 million students took it. cancelled. years of studying, families' savings poured into coaching, gone overnight because someone sold the paper. students died by suicide after. these were kids who wanted to be doctors.
and out of that came a protest movement. a gen z group called the cockroach janta party, started by a 30 year old named abhijeet dipke, got 22 million instagram followers within DAYS. they've been doing a sit-in at jantar mantar in delhi demanding education minister dharmendra pradhan resign.
and then there's sonam wangchuk. if you've watched 3 idiots, he's the real engineer the character was based on. built solar schools in ladakh. invented ice stupas so himalayan villages have water. spent his whole life on education. he's 59 and he's been on hunger strike for 17+ days now. reporters went to see him this week and he was too weak to talk. and the troll armies are calling him "anti national" and "foreign funded". a man starving himself for other people's children. that's the thing here, anyone who asks a question is suddenly a traitor.
it's not one incident, it's everywhere you look:
• infrastructure worth thousands of crores failing within months of the ribbon cutting. tunnels collapsing in regions where heavy rain is a guarantee, not a surprise.
• youth unemployment near 10% for ages 15 to 29, 13.6% in cities. in a country of 1.42 billion where more than half the population is young.
• only about the top 3% of indians earn above 10 lakh a year. meanwhile billionaire wealth keeps ballooning and the headlines celebrate it.
• manipur burned for over two years. an ethnic conflict, tens of thousands displaced, and the prime minister barely said the word manipur while it happened.
• journalists raided. critics' houses bulldozed. activists sitting in jail for years without trial under laws like UAPA. our press freedom ranking has cratered.
• even the petrol is a fight now, ethanol blending pushed through while drivers complain about their engines and get no straight answers.
and through all of it, the PM, who came to power on religious polarisation (americans, sound familiar?), travels abroad for photo ops and has not held one single open press conference in over a decade. not one.
what i'm asking:
if you're not indian: share this. our media mostly won't cover any of it because the big outlets are owned by the same billionaires the government serves. the only reason wangchuk's fast is getting any coverage is people refusing to look away.
if you ARE indian: speak up even if you're comfortable. especially if you're comfortable. join the protests. add to this, correct me, translate it. staying quiet is a choice when nothing in this post touches your life.
india is not "dirty". india was robbed, and it's being robbed again, from the inside this time. but it's also the country where a 59 year old will starve for strangers' kids and 22 million young people will rally behind a party literally named after cockroaches, because cockroaches survive everything.
we can still save her. but only loudly.
reblog. share. don't scroll past.
shuffle
what a world. so much love tryin to get where it is needed. sometimes it arrives, sometimes it gets lost in the shuffle, but dang is it impressive how hard it tries. and all that love that gets lost in the shuffle never actually goes away. it comes back, it just takes a little longer sometimes
This one started as a drawing in my sketchbook, and then she blossomed into a digital painting 🌸 Still on my lifelong quest to paint the roundest, chunkiest, most squishable roses.
Like if you think he should be allowed a sausage
the cunt who makes my life decisions (me) and the idiot who has to live with them (also me) somehow have diametrically opposed world views how am i supposed to live like this
me sowing: the harvest will be glorious. farmers tremble before my sowing prowess. i'm the king of the hill
me reaping: why the fuck did i sow all this. what the fuck. who let me have all these seeds. why the FUCK do i own a field. what the fuck.
People: I know that you want tattoos but you shouldn’t get them as soon as you’re eighteen!! You need to be sure that you’ll still want them when you’re grown up!!!! You might like a tattoo now but you can’t be sure you’ll still like it in your forties or fifties!!!!!!!!
Me, a person who has trouble visualising the future and literally cannot imagine themself living past about 25: okay…
Hey op did you ever get the tattoo? Do you still like it?
Fuck this is a wild one to see again, especially as someone now about 3 weeks away from officially making it past 25:
- I remember 2016 as being the worst year of my fucking life, in ways it’s gonna be hard to beat and the universe better not fuckin try
- since 2016, I’ve gotten a degree in a field that I love, been in a toxic relationship, had a toxic relationship end, been in a kind but ultimately not what we wanted relationship, had that end too, been single for a while, learned I’m trans, started hrt, gotten in a different lovely proudly queer relationship which I’m very happy in, made friends, lost friends, mourned friends, made new friends, gotten a job I liked, made manager, quit, got another job that lets me do a bit of good in the world, gotten top surgery, travelled, swam shirtless in the warm sea, written half a dozen zines and a poetry chapbook, performed poetry, accepted I’m probably never gonna make a career out of poetry alone, gone on and off and on again various mental health treatments and hopeful that this one will stick for as long as it needs to, walked probably a thousand or more cumulative miles wearing through the soles of half a dozen or more boots, laughed, cried, rested, collapsed from fatigue, crawled back out again
- if I could reach back to the kid making this post… buddy, I’m not gonna say it’ll all be alright, because that’s pat and trite and diminishes the very real struggles of growing. But we cut our hair and change our name and grow a beard and we’re not Quite out of the shitty little hometown but we’re getting there. I think you’d like the jumper I’m wearing. I saw mcr live and I know you’d kill me with jealousy for it. I took you with me, as much as I could. I still think you’ve got great taste in movies, and I’ve got some new recs for you.
- I now have 4 tattoos! None of them are the ones I thought I’d have, but that’s okay. The first one is not an art style I’d choose today but the design holds a ton of meaning for me, and always will, and I don’t regret it. The other 3 are a more cohesive art style - maybe I could have changed the placement or tweaked some details, but I don’t need to, they’re part of me now and they’re beautiful for it. I’m excited to get more and to live long enough to reflect on them like this again and again and again
- 25 felt impossibly old to you. Right now it feels both impossibly old and impossibly young. I’m glad I got to see what it brought me, even the shit parts
- I’ll put aside a slice of cake next month in your honour
I’m glad I asked. I’m glad you’ve made it this far. I hope we both make it another 10 years and it keeps being worth it.
oh dang the most important review of all just came in
Hey y'all, do not sleep on Fabulous Bodies. It's a real good book and you'll be happy you read it.
it was not on wheat...
not willing to risk doing an image description, sorry y'all
all the times i've said illiteracy is helping fash?
and that plenty of you are, in fact, functionally illiterate?
and that the corrupt state helped you along to this condition on purpose?
the nonzero number of notes from people who did not instantly clock this comic as an allegory: behold.
when you have no idea what a door is, or what a key is, or what glasses are, then you are effectively identical to this clean-faced dude.
and fash absolutely loves what you're doing with the place. sitting there not asking questions, or looking things up, or paying attention to context.
the authoritarian state thrives on a diet of such clowns.
Under communism the wait staff will not ask if Pepsi is okay. You will not even find out that's its Pepsi instead of coke until you take your first sip. Unless you train like me, to know the difference from the sound of the Fizz alone, that is the only way we can beat communism and I can teach you. Take my hand. Not like that you grabbed it gay. Stop. Giggles. I SAID STOP