Just Because Icarus Fell Doesn't Mean You Will @jojomozz - Tumblr Blog

turtle school

it seems like in bdsm the "rewards" and the "punishments" look very similar. this concerns me a great deal, because it points to a system of misaligned incentives. if we're not careful, it's even possible that a rational actor could deliberately violate regulations, because the penalties for rule violations are in fact incentivized. one shudders to think of the consequences of such an arrangement

wiltking

you really can reach a point with transgender enlightenment wherein you can attribute any bodily feature silhouette and detail to any gender regardless of typical cisgender aesthetic connotations. anything can be a man's body if the person in it is a man. anything can be a woman's body if the person in it is a woman. anything can be a genderless body if the person in it is genderless. and so on. the only thing that matters is the personhood within and whether you are willing to look and know and see it. open your eyes. keep trying until you no longer flinch or turn away in shame or anger or confusion.

imoanurparentsnames

thought this post was appropriate

whyenn-reader

part of being an adult is figuring out what eveyone else's definition of "going crazy" is. to you it is not sleeping for 60 hours, writing 80k words in one sitting and expiriencing enough anxiety to kill a horse. to beth from accounting its buying a ticket to Columbus, Ohio. and to your friend its consuming so much ketamine you lose all of your posessions and wake up with five broken bones in a ditch somewhere and then proceeding to do it again the next day. to your other friend its writing a letter to their favourite actress about how much they appreciate her work. to your neighbour its laughing loudly in a grocery store whilst in pajamas. maya from uni hears the voice of her dead father making jokes with no punchlines and she considers that to be quite normal - to her going crazy would be hearing her husband instead. your downstairs neighbour will take night walks naked sometimes and claim there is nothing weird about him. there are literally no rules to life and all meaning is in the eye of the beholder.

inkskinned

by march of 2025, it was official. i had been dangerously suicidal for an entire 3 straight years. no hotline was going to help me. i had no money for inpatient care or therapy. i spent most of my days so numb it was terrifying, became a void of a person. suicide was no longer a choice so much as an inevitability to me: it all made a terrible, dark kind of sense. it was as if i was writing a very long equation and kept arriving at the exact same answer. it was a twisted but peaceful kind of self-forgiveness - my dog would be happier with my brother, my family would have less to worry about.

i had tried everything. everything on earth i could think of to try. distractions and burnout and medication and all of it. i integrated with my community and practiced my hobbies and tried to make smart choices and exercised regularly and kept putting it off until tomorrow. i would wake up and think - what if i am just like this, forever? three years into the worst depressive spiral of your adult life, the sensation of it becomes almost smooth, like a worrystone. nothing matters. it is almost a bone that never healed correctly. i was never quite mentally healthy, this was just the crystallization process.

i genuinely thought i was never going to recover, ever. that it would just be an eon of that experience, forever and ever.

my happiness did not come back like a bolt of light. i saw one very-small flicker and i snatched that moth out of the sky with my teeth, held her pinned against me. i worked so hard it felt stupid; i faltered; i continued.

on saturday, i had the best day of my life. it didn't start out that way. it just unrolled into one beautiful moment after another, even though i expected nothing from it. i spent the entire ride home grinning so widely that my cheeks hurt. i watched the sunset in silence. all i could think was holy fuck i'm glad i didn't kill myself.

in the bad place, i couldn't see the happiness coming for me. it wasn't like i wasn't aware good things could theoretically happen (and did sometimes happen even to me), it was that i just genuinely believed joy was no longer a possibility. i had tried to fix joy against my ceiling, after all, and it had bled down and spoiled in the air above me. i assumed that i had simply run out of the opportunity - that if i did experience joy, it would be difficult to parse, muted. a mumble instead of a shout.

the shout i am feeling is still echoing inside of me. i am joyful when i touch moss and i am joyful when i stand in the sun and i am joyful when i make my dinner. i am joyful when i text my friends and when i skinny dip and when i sing off-key to my girlfriend. i am joyful and i dance in the rain like a stupid lesbian manic pixie dream girl and i build little forts for mice to hide in and i hug trees without warning and i am joyful about the cringe of it all, about the silly abandon i feel.

i have bad days, but the good outshines them. i cannot fathom that. last year at this time, the bad days were still outnumbering the good by a margin so wide it was the difference between a pond and the ocean.

but the good days were there, which was new. and if they were there, it meant they could exist, and i could multiply them, and i could get out and get through. if the good days were there, laid out in white stars along the black beach of my life - i could pick them up gently and carry them, one at a time. each new one so blisteringly precious.

i can't tell you when i became overwhelmed with happiness. i think it snuck up on me, a blade in the night. i just woke up one day, and i was so intimately, wildly glad for it. for the gift of my one and only life.

gardengnosticator

friendship addicts will be like “i just need one more hit of your infectious laughter and zest for life”

loveridden1999

animentality

cikero

Actually in tears because of this stupid image

pocket-deer-belly

i do actually think it's crazy that employers get a say over shit like tattoos and piercings and we just let that happen

pocket-deer-belly

if you look cool as fuck you become unemployable

pocket-deer-belly

i do also mean like, face tattoos, yall know that right

partyinthecloudkingdom

besides the obvious that people should have the right to do what they want with their bodies as a form of self expression, the stigma against face tattoos specifically has a long, violent, racist, imperialist history that stretches across the globe

pocket-deer-belly

hey. we're having a talk about employment discrimination

etirabys

oh my goodness, one of dian fossey’s first close up observations with gorillas happened when she was trying to climb a tree to see them better, but so badly that by the time she’d gotten up the entire group had come out of hiding to look at her: “Nearly all members of the group had totally exposed themselves, forgetting about hiding coyly behind foliage screens because it was obvious to them that the observer had been distracted by tree-climbing problems, an activity they could understand.”

argumate

hello, fellow apes

spitoutthedaisyhoratio

The lead up to that sentence is gold:

consistantly-changing

[Image transcript: porch. The group had been day-nesting and sunbathing when I contacted them, but upon my approach they nervously retreated to obscure themselves behind thick foliage. Frustrated but determined to see them better, I decided to climb a tree, not one of my better talents. The tree was particularly slithery and, try as I might, no amount of puffing, pulling, gripping, or clawing succeeded in getting me more than a few feet aboveground. Disgustedly, I was about to give up when Sanwekwe came to my aid by giving one mighty boost to my protruding rump; tears were running from his eyes as he was convulsed in silent laughter. I felt as inept as a baby taking its first step. Finally able to grab on to a conveniently placed branch, I hauled myself up into a respectful semislouch position in the tree about twenty feet from the ground. By this time I naturally assumed that the combined noises of panting, cursing, and branch-breaking made during the initial climbing attempts must have frightened the group on to the next mountain. I was amazed to look around and find that the entire group had returned and were sitting like front row spectators at a sideshow. All that was needed to make the image complete were a few gorilla-sized bags of popcorn and some cotton candy! This was the first live audience I had ever had in my life and certainly the least expected.]

roach-works

imagine some freakish not-a-human alien THING has shown up out of nowhere and is trying to get into your office building to study you. but it has no idea how to get past a revolving door. it tries for three hours. by the time it finally understands the concept of a revolving door and squeeze into the building everyone in the office is crowded into the lobby to watch and call helpful suggestions. it’s conclusively determined that the alien is definitely not a threat, except maybe to itself.