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Discover outfit ideas for made with the shoplook outfit maker. How to wear ideas for Filler and Amazon.com: Royal Lace Paper

chowaniec

My first patch

biteriskgirl

dick from a girl thats trying to chew through her muzzle to get at your neck

biteriskgirl

you invest in a stronger metal muzzle (smart), the frustration makes for great sex but it is a little unnerving feeling the cold bars pressed against your jugular all the time and hearing her teeth going chomp chomp chomp chomp chomp

I think the worst part about being disabled is the silence. It follows me. I create it. I think that I put so much time into filling it when I am on my own; with noise, music videos, movies, other people talking. sometimes I’m not even listening to what they’re saying it’s just background hum so that I don’t feel so alone. I feel so alone.

When I can no longer stand the insulation of these walls —this room — and I need someone else someone to hear me I go out and talk and talk and talk and talk. I feel as though I have to fill every moment with noise because I know that when I return to this room it’s just quiet. And yet (and yet) after being anywhere but here the buzzing in my ears grows so very loud that I cannot stand anything but silence. I cannot even have the sound of somebody else’s breathing or of my own breathing. I need to lie in absolute quiet so that I cannot even feel hear the sound of fabric moving against my skin or of my heartbeat against the pillow.

Silence is my constant companion and yet (and yet) my most reviled lover. We bicker. We sit back to back in a too small space and push to try get more room but our spines only dig into each other. Sometimes our ribcages interlock and I feel her slip inside me and I am silence then too. This is the best of times and the worst of times. When I feel again like I did as a child on the surface of the water; dipping my head back to see the two silver sides of her face. Held softly to ebb and be entranced by dappled sunlight. I still hold my breath when I cry because it feels like being caught would be so humiliating I would die. I don’t know when I started doing that but the silence has held my sobs as well and as long as any water.

I don’t want to talk about my pain. I don’t want to talk about it ever again and yet it creeps up in conversation because what else is happening in my life. How am I? What do I do everyday? Why am I not working or studying? Why am I staring at these same fucking white walls again and trying to silence the spinning memories and grief and burning and and and and and. And I don’t want to talk about it.

People get tired of you being disabled, of me being disabled. Its quiet, at first. But the silence gets louder. The absence gets louder. They stop asking. I stop talking about it. The silence sits between us and I’m glad its there at first because I hate the pity and the fear and the constant concern. Then the silence starts getting in the way because my pain never leaves and I still don’t want to talk about it and yet (and yet).

It’s no-one’s fault I have arthritis and epilepsy other than fucked up genetics and bad luck and i’m so fucking angry about it all the fucking time. Anyone else can deal with their own disability however they want, and able bodied people can shut up and I will stay angry however long I want to. Or stay silent. In denial. In grief. In disbelief. In mourning of the life that I never got to live. Hating The other me that got to live on after our timelines split and I got stuck with this rotting corpse and mom who won’t stop loving the daughter she had and so can never know the son she has.

***

I can only think at night now. I’m not sure if it’s the medication(s) or the sunlight or the freedom from the expectation to be productive. Maybe its that the silence feels companionable, like a sleeping cat curled at the end of my bed with toes tucked in against the cold (claws sheathed). My ears are still ringing and I know the tv static and gargled panic will likely ricochet around my skull as soon as I end this, but I think its worth it to eek out a meagre call into the void now and again. I am using this tumblr as a journal of sorts and half forget what I write (which is entirely unsurprising to me) but it means something to me to make a noise. To not cry quietly, to breathe sobs aloud, sometimes at least.

We broke up and im reconciling with with grieving what we had and what I wanted. We will always have loved and yet, and yet. And yet I waited to be wanted. Worked on my abandonment issues and jealousy and feeling left out and communicating disconnect and desires. And I really wanted to be wrong. That you were unknowingly and not unwillingly excluding me from your life. Amd yet, and yet, and yet loving me nut only in the lot you allocated. Oh sweet lover. I changed in the waiting and i miss who i wanted you to be.

technofeudalism

i think the near-extinction of people making fun, deep and/or unique interactive text-based browser games, projects and stories is catastrophic to the internet. i'm talking pre-itch.io era, nothing against it.

there are a lot of fun ones listed here and here but for the most part, they were made years ago and are now a dying breed. i get why. there's no money in it. factoring in the cost of web hosting and servers, it probably costs money. it's just sad that it's a dying art form.

anyway, here's some of my favorite browser-based interactive projects and games, if you're into that kind of thing. 90% of them are on the lists that i linked above.

A Better World - create an alternate history timeline

Alter Ego - abandonware birth-to-death life simulator game

Seedship - text-based game about colonizing a new planet

Sandboxels or ThisIsSand - free-falling sand physics games

Little Alchemy 2 - combine various elements to make new ones

Infinite Craft - kind of the same as Little Alchemy

ZenGM - simulate sports

Tamajoji - browser-based tamagotchi

IFDB - interactive fiction database (text adventure games)

Written Realms - more text adventure games with a user interface

The Cafe & Diner - mystery game

The New Campaign Trail - US presidential campaign game

Money Simulator - simulate financial decisions

Genesis - text-based adventure/fantasy game

Level 13 - text-based science fiction adventure game

Miniconomy - player driven economy game

Checkbox Olympics - games involving clicking checkboxes

BrantSteele.net - game show and Hunger Games simulators

Murder Games - fight to the death simulator by Orteil

Cookie Clicker - different but felt weird not including it. by Orteil.

if you're ever thinking about making a niche project that only a select number of individuals will be nerdy enough to enjoy, keep in mind i've been playing some of these games off and on for 20~ years (Alter Ego, for example). quite literally a lifetime of replayability.

technofeudalism

since this post blew up, i've been wanting to do an addition with all of the recommendations from the comments and tags. but there's a lot of them. some people might be crazy enough to sit down and seriously put them all in one post with descriptions. those people are honestly sick in the head.

anyway, here's all of the recommendations from the reblogs. not all of them are text-based, but it's a great mixture of styles. also don't forget the links in the second paragraph of the OP which will take you to FMHY where there are a bunch more games listed.

Games

A Dark Room - text-based science fiction role-playing game.

corru.observer - science fiction adventure web game.

Improbable Island - old-school text adventure game.

Candy Box 2 - incremental clicker game that evolves into RPG.

Arcanum - open source wizard clicker game.

sandspiel, Powder Game, Powder Game 2, The Powder Toy - more sand physics games.

Orb.Farm - fishtank simulator.

Façade - experimental game with a real-time interactive narrative where you try to fix a failing marriage.

The Catacombs of Solaris - trippy art game.

Yume Nikki Online - online version of the surreal classic plus fangames.

The Barncle Goose Experiment - combine element/alchemy game based on antique theories of abiogenesis.

Fallen London - free-to-play text-based open world RPG.

Nested - very unique text-based universe expanding game. described as possibly @orteil42's favorite thing he's ever made.

The Process of Elimination - interactive web novel (by @hypertextdog)

Discworld MUD - multiplayer, text-based, online game (a MUD, or text MMORPG) based on the Discworld books.

Horse Master - surreal text game about training a horse.

EYEZMAZE - flash (RIP) or HTML5-based puzzle games.

You Are Jeff Bezos - text game. spend Jeff Bezos' fortune.

The Password Game - challenging puzzle game where you have to meet password requirements (by neal)

Universal Paperclips - incremental paperclip making game.

Half-Earth - planetary disaster planning game where you try to save the world using socialism.

ChooseYourStory - community-driven website centered on CYOA style story games.

PhD Simulator - random event based text game. make your choice each month and see if you can graduate on time.

Dungeon Crawl Stone Soup - open source roguelike.

Cataclysm: Dark Days Ahead - turn-based survival roguelike set in the modern day.

Nethack - open source roguelike originally released in 1987.

FarmRPG - simple, mobile-friendly, text-based farming RPG.

Kingdom of Loathing - browser-based community MMORPG.

PokeRogue - browser-based Pokemon roguelike

Tools

Text Game Builder - works in your browser, with just a little bit of Python (by @grumpygandalf)

Twine - great (free!) tool for making text-based games quickly.

Ink - scripting language for interactive fiction (also free)

Flashpoint Archive - a community effort to preserve games and animations from the web.

PICO-8 - fantasy console for making, sharing and playing tiny games and other computer programs.

Non-Games

Library of Babel - interactive illustration which attempts to simulate what it might be like to browse The Library of Babel.

Superbad - technically not a game, sprawling website full of secrets.

17776 - serialized speculative fiction multimedia narrative about football in the far-future. beautiful, creative, legendary. created by Jon Bois, a legend and one of my favorite writers of all time.

Choice of Games - text-based, choose-your-own-adventure games (interactive fiction). some free-to-play, others can be bought like an ebook.

The Deep Sea - scroll to the bottom of the ocean. encounter the humble squid and his friends (by neal)

Space Elevator - like The Deep Sea, but up instead of down. you can equip your avatar with a scarf (by neal)

Internet Artifacts - an interactive history of the early internet (by neal)

If The Moon Were Only One Pixel - scroll through an accurately scaled model of the universe.

r/incremental_games - reddit community for incremental games.

r/WebGames - reddit community for web games in general.

thank you to everyone who contributed and the creators. please be sure to show them some love where possible.

#collage #chronic illness #original art #chronic pain #brenn!#bambi #free britney

I mend things. Clothes mostly. I sat at rolller derby practice last night and made casual conversation about the life of a shirt while i was stitching closed a rip in my jeans. That more people will throw away a shirt than replace a button. I hold my clothess with reverence. I think of the thousands of hours and hands it took to get to me; sewing the seed to grow and harvest cotton and spin it into thread. Weaving lines into shapes. Cutting designs someone built in their brain. I think about people i will never meet who held the pieces of fabric together to run them under a sewing machines. (I think of the hands that built the cogs in the machines). The thousand hands who passed that shirt from bus to train to boat to shop to me. Or, more likely as I prefer second had, to some other stranger who lived and loved in it until i found it hanging in a dusty corner and it finally rested in my hands.

A simple shirt has traveled further, met more people and lived longer than I have —and might ever — and am I to doom it to rot for the sake of a button and a minute of my time?

I mend things. Because i think breaking doesn’t need to be a permanent end. Because being worn down and worn through can be an opportunity for new life. I save scrap of fabric and thread and wait until they find the hole they were meant to fill. I embroider leaves over the tears along my sides because i can see that I needed to grow. I outgrow my jeans and i cry because i loved who I was in them. And then I cut them up and sew in a panel of new life so they fit the body I have now.

I mend things because I am constantly growing and learning to give myself grace for when I fail to do what I thought I was built for.

thefleetingflashofa-sword623

Every body hates me because my body is made up from mis matched corpse parts and i make scary noises.

realrealcrazy

There it is

Tw: medical vent

I didn’t go to the ER tonight again. I probably should have given the inflammation in my spine meant my legs were going numb and my doctor told me last time not to. That when the pain bets that bad I shouldn’t just try to wait it out. I fought with my fiance again. Fought that I didnt want to go. They phoned ahead and none of my doctors were there and if they had been I would have gone because they know me and would admit me and treat me well and my medical aid will cover it.

But if sitting in bed is excruciating and rolling over feels like freshly pressing the inside of my bones against the red hotness. That i have to stop breathing to let the pain richochet up my spine when I adjust my legs. Unless i know the process is as painless as possible I do not want to go wait like last time cramped up shuddering in an ER waiting room for 2 hours feeling my world turn like a too slow music box dancer on the damned connection between the base of my spine and my wheelchair seat. That feeling so loud I cant hear or see past it. That we waited for two hours to be given good drugs and sent home with the bill and bypassed my doctor entirely.

It happens cyclically. Every fucking month before my period starts i get tossed on my ass so hard all symptoms spin and land on me at once, ive had migraines and seizures and pain and joints so shit ive spent the week procrastinating getting out of bed to pee. I hate it here.

#chronic illness #original art #collage #scientific illustration #arthritis #pcosawareness #pcossupport #endometriosis #spoonie

It hurts again. I ache with it. I promise i’m trying, i’m always fucking trying and the dishes have been in my sink for a month again and my only pot is mouldy again and i’m ignoring it again.

I’m doing the things that help. I hurt. Again. I’m trying to let people in to help me instead of curling in on my self like a fallen leaf crisping. It’s in my bones, my mom’s words words ricochet down my spine, ((I don’t think she wants to be my mom anymore) it’s too bad she wasted her blood on me).

I can’t get the image of jesus the baby in the manger out of my mind. Baby in the hay trough; bloody and stuck with straw and the animals salivating for their supper. The offering. Mother mary streaming blood tears watching her boy knowing. He was only safe inside her. Once wrenched free from her softness he lies belly up —to be spilled onto temple steps. Baby in a manger, supper is served.

I ran out of words at some point. Which is ironic to say given how much i still talk sometimes. I’m not entirely sure when i ran out, or when i noticed. I guess at some point i looked inwards and they weren’t there in the same way anymore. Like when a word is on the tip of your tongue and you intuitively lean back in your brain’s desk chair to reach into the neural desk drawer for the folder… and its just empty. Or has a few crumpled up balls of scraggly pages.

I know my friends now will disagree and call me smart and sweet and all that jazz. But they didnt know me before. Before the medication that bogged my brain and the seizures that were left to ricochet through my pre frontal cortex . Before covid and meltdowns and isolation and the bone deep deep deep cold that froze over everything.

It’s humiliating. I dont look back at my old words. Dont read my old essays or speeches. 14 year old me spoke internationally about the ineptitude of the international criminal court, and 24 year old me cries after making a phone call to a pharmacy.

I feel hollow. Like a gem-squash-half already turned out. The best bits of me eaten away and just the thin exterior left to dry and grow brittle. I was 13 when he first started using his words to convince me he knew best about everything, and by 15 i agreed. It took three years in court to spit back up the bile and feel the acid burn my throat and rot my teeth and be told “my words held power”. I don’t have any words left. They forgot to mention that the process might use them all up.

Maybe if i get to 34 my bones will have stopped rattling and I’ll have finally seen a dentist. Maybe my teeth won’t rot out my mouth by then. Maybe the medication wont sedate me so strongly i feel more asleep than awake. Maybe I will stop feeling like time moves on without me. Maybe I’ll have moved on. I don’t think this is something one can move on from. Sometimes even after all this time I’ll find his words stuck between my teeth like a nasty fish bone cutting my gums. Or lodged in my throat; on the verge of choking. I still don’t know if its better to swallow and hope it disappears, or wretch wildly and hope not to impale it deeper.

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