welcome to my rock collection :)

hello for the sake of this blog everything here is now a rock. :) i like rocks.

[jasper-likes-rocks]

HI i’m Jasper, welcome to my rock collection. He/she/fae pronouns please!!

i’m aro/ace, transmasc, and sapphic for those curious :)

this blog will probably not be Only pictures of cool rocks but i will tag anything rock related with # jasper’s rock collection so if you follow me only for the rocks. yeah.

i’m canadian, a minor, and probably autistic and/or adhd. yippee!

this is the spot where i’d promote my gimmick blog but i want this account to stay sneaky so. if you think you’ve figured out who i am, send me an ask lol.

[awoooniper]

*three shots deep*: i need…. i need to… what do i need… i need…. another shot.

*four shots deep, inexplicably more coherent*: i need to master the blade.

[boccher]

crotch is literally the most comfortable place to lay your hands. especially with thighs pressing on them. but im scared people will think im a pervert of sex

[echoesofsaturn]

"slut era" i say as i rot and decay in my bedroom and watch the years pass me by as i miss out on core experiences other people my age are having while i think about the past

[wilddogscaniconfess]

friend breakups are so weird because it's like we were something once that we'll never be again. i can't listen to that song anymore because it was yours. i can't believe i stayed for this long and sometimes i stay up thinking i shouldn't have ever left. you'll never sleep in my new house. i'll never marvel about how beautiful you are again. i'll never look you in the eyes. we were something once and i'm glad i'll never be that thing again. i don't miss you but i miss the weight of your head on my chest when we watched the clouds and i miss your laugh and one day i'll never miss you again. i still check your socials to see if there's any sign of me. we watched the same fireworks two days ago. i can still feel your warmth in my bed. i can finally be happy. our friends don't feel what i feel about you. when was the last time you saw my room? i'll never watch that movie because it's the last thing we talked about. you shouldn't have done this to me. neither should i have to you. my mom looked so disappointed when i told her. i hope you're okay. i hope you never find me in anything ever again. i hope my interests stop showing up on your feed and i hope you forget the spelling of my name. please keep your smile out of my memories.

[aromanticofficial]

official aromantic post

[nervous-youngg-mutt]

i keep forgetting not everyones polyamorous. i’ll be talking w someone and they’ll be like “are you flirting with me?? dont you have a boyfriend??” and im like right right right monogamy people do that

[pukicho]

How do you get over heartbreak this shit is unbearable puki, do first loves always end in dumpster fires

If 'First loves' didn't almost always end up failing then there wouldn't be a popular term for it.

[pinetreewannabe]

bro i hate hanging out with straight people i showed a group of dudes a picture of a black rain frog and they didnt like it wtf

[pinetreewannabe]

for the gays:

these grumpy lil guys just speak to me on a spiritual level

[elodieunderglass]

@gaaaaaay

[boredlime]

“kind of dating” but not as in a situationship or talking stage but in that our relationship is unique to us and transcends the boundaries of being friends and being in a romantic relationship in a way that is much too complicated to explain to someone without discussing it for at least half an hour and we don’t have that kind of time because you were just casually asking who they are to me

[jasper-likes-rocks]

i love catching my friends off guard im like under a month post breakup and i just casually referenced “my new boytoy” (best friend who i’ve been making out with recently) and they collectively lost their shit

[origamicrow]

take a break while watching this little bunny cross your dash

[rip13y]

[oriocookie]

[lynx-brynjar]

Me vs forgetting that there's people that arent at least a little into most of their friends

[f0rcee]

Do you miss all your old selves?

no they are inside of me i hug them everyday and say u did such a good job

[jasper-likes-rocks]

A few years ago i didnt know i was gay and now i’ve had lesbian sex under a pride flag oh how times change

[satan-offical]

WE. WANT. MALE. BIRTH CONTROL!!

[miseria-fortes-viros]

MY EX’S BROTHER KILLED HIMSELF THREE WEEKS AGO and saying “my ex’s brother” is kind of shitty of me i think. but i also can’t say “my friend” because we weren’t friends, and i can’t say “my friend’s brother” because now that we’re exes we’re not really friends, and also there’s a difference between “friends” and “grew up in the church together” and that’s a lot to say to someone who doesn’t have the whole picture. but it’s better to include “ex” in there somewhere, because when people hear “ex” they like to assign some bitterness to it, and it’s kind of refreshing to hear “do not meet him for coffee who cares if he’s grieving he’s an ex for a reason” instead of the run-of-the-mill scrambling for something polite and respectful to say. and then when i do meet him for coffee and his hair’s grown out again to where i once told him i like it and he tells me about his next tattoo and that he’s saving up for another motorcycle and apologizes for something he barely did two years ago and tells me that he’s single again, i can joke around with my best friend about how he still wants me if his instagram likes have anything to say about it, and i don’t have to think about how tired he looks or that, like me, he hasn’t said a word about God in six years. i don’t have to sit in the church i haven’t sat in since high school and wonder if this is the funeral—sorry, celebration of life for someone who didn’t even want to be here—my ex’s brother would have wanted. i don’t have to watch the back of my ex’s head and wonder how he can stand any of this because nobody here will shut the fuck up about God. i don’t have to sit in the back of the congregation and selfishly think WHEN I DIE I HOPE NOBODY TALKS ABOUT GOD for three hours. and usually my purse is relatively neat but right now it’s stuffed full with tissues and waterproof mascara and packets of wildflower seeds and i wonder if my ex’s brother really did like planting wildflowers or if they just told us that so we’d spread them.

later that week when i spend the night at my sister’s she tells me the exchange student she brought home for thanksgiving a few years ago was in an accident. i want to apologize because ever since i was a child i’ve felt like death follows me around somehow. his instagram says he was doing what he loved and he’s with God now. i hug my sister while she cries and i think WHEN I DIE I HOPE NOBODY TALKS ABOUT GOD. in a few days i will text her at midnight because i had a dream that i don’t necessarily remember but i do remember wishing she was still alive. and i won’t tell her that but i’ll ask her what she’s wearing to the bridal shower and she’ll say the same thing she wore to the funeral because she doesn’t have anything else, and i’ll do that too since we were asked not to wear black and the blue i wore is much more suited to a happy occasion anyway. the brides will make a toast to loved ones lost while i’m wearing the same dress i wore to celebrate the life of a dead boy and my grandmother will pray to bless the union and i’ll arrange flowers and play little games with the women in my family and all i can think is WHEN I DIE I HOPE NOBODY TALKS ABOUT GOD.

whenever i tell people my cousin drowned they always ask if he’s okay and that always surprises me because i feel like the word drowned has a finality to it; it’s an end result, and if he was okay i would have said almost drowned but i didn’t. and sometimes when i talk about someone in the past tense people will say what do you mean was? is he not your uncle anymore? as if the concept of death is so far-fetched and archaic that it only happens to the elderly and the extremely unlucky and people on tv. these are the same people who keep talking about Heaven and eternal life and how death is just the beginning and nobody’s really gone and i smile politely but i want to grab them by the shoulders and shake them and say fuck you. MY EX’S BROTHER KILLED HIMSELF THREE WEEKS AGO and i am drawing pictures and watching a trashy reality show when one of the contestants announces his early departure because his sister has died.

why do you write so much about death? what is everyone else writing about if not death? a few years ago i found out people think i’m obsessed with the idea of dying. i am not. i didn’t know there were people out there who have not experienced tragedy at all. i say tragedy and people think it just means loss. i am not talking about old men passing peacefully in their sleep. i am talking about a drowned fourteen year old and a fiancé whose heart suddenly gave out and a new grandfather t-boned by a drunk driver. these are too unrealistic for fiction. you write too much about death. i am not afraid of death and i’m not sure if that’s leftover from teenage suicidal tendencies or the result of years of exposure but i am afraid that i will die unexpectedly and nobody will know who to tell and so none of the right people will find out. and then the only people at my funeral will be family members who keep talking about God and Heaven and eternal life and give out packets of wildflower seeds, and i will watch from inside my casket even though i wanted to be cremated and i’ll scream EVERYONE SHUT UP ABOUT GOD until i can almost feel my throat but nobody will hear me because i am dead and no longer have a throat. my friends will keep texting me and wonder if i’m angry with them.

my ex’s brother killed himself three weeks ago. after the funeral i take a day off of work to sit in my kitchen and think WHEN I DIE I HOPE NOBODY TALKS ABOUT GOD.

[jasper-likes-rocks]

giggling kicking my feet i love being queer and being in love and also having purple hair and ALSO I HAD A CINNAMON BUN A FEW DAYS AGO life is good