Halp ooer pls to halp? hWHere do how do i close th

she/her ⚧️. Adult (20s). I reblog porn/lewds/nsfw stuff every now and then I do image descriptions when I have the time and energy, and look for other folks' IDs or otherwise tag things #undescribed if I am too tired (I'm often tired!). Profile Pic is a red-and-back Ground Hornbill with long lashes staring into the camera from face-on. Banner image is an underwater minecraft vista - a craggy ravine and towering kelp poke up from the dark depths into the cold blue ocean. Silhouettes of fish and dolphins adorn the scene, some up close, some far away.

[ampervadasz]

[drtanner]

Pure genius on display here, lads.

[screamingbingusthecromulentone]

[video ID:

A grey budgie with yellow head feathers runs around a wooden table in circles excitedly, before lifting up & trapping itself under a small tupperware. It struggles to escape the tupperware and can only manage to charge off the table, landing on the floor with a soft thud and a small chirp of victory.

/end ID]

[omegaversereloaded]

such a good reaction image

[omegaversereloaded]

[deadpowol]

[nahtahclu]

The social anxiety -> exhibitionism pipeline is vastly underrated.

[sophie-frm-mars]

Landlord update:

I hate landlords so fucking much I cannot express what I wish for them in part because it would be against terms of service

They told the council that all rent increase and eviction notices were "on hold" but they've been submitting responses in the rent tribunal system the entire time, and even if they weren't, all these things are on a count down to court dates anyway. They literally can't be on hold, but they're lying about it anyway. Just calling a pause to the conflict and then continuing to attack us anyway.

We've just received our response for this place in particular and it's multiple times longer and more detailed than anyone else's responses I've seen so far, plus it asks the court to try to find the rent even higher than the original notice. It seems pretty obvious they're trying to target us in particular for organising against their sickening evil bullshit

[sophie-frm-mars]

I'm actually gonna tack my links on here because if the court does decide they just hate humanity and love profit more than anything I'm going to be in a really bad situation financially on top of probably losing the home I've lived in longer than any other, so if you can help me out please do

Sophie from Mars | Linktree

Essayist, Artist, Organiser

[cjsnaake]

I fuck with this

[hypokeimena]

[image description: screenshot of writing formatted as a question and answer exchange. headline of piece is: The Proposal to Raise Every Boy as a Girl. (author not listed)

Q. You want to raise every boy as a girl? Yes.

Q. Why? A boy will learn to hate girls as long as he is raised in such a way where he is treated as better, and superior to, his girl peers, whenever he is cruel to girls. So, instead, we raise boys as girls.

Q. What if they say they are not a girl, and want to be acknowledged as boy? Then you know they are a boy, so you must make sure to understand them as boy, and not a girl.

Q. What does it mean to be 'raised as a girl'? That's up for you to decide. The only difference is that you should not raise boys any differently than you raise girls, since you raise every boy as a girl.

Q. Girls and boys are raised in specific ways for specific purposes, so it does not make sense to raise boys as girls. If you raise every boy as a girl, then there is no being which is not raised as a girl, so anyone raised as a girl necessarily must learn to do anything and everything to grow up, without restrictions on tasks, labours, or interests.

Q. But boys and girls are different. All two girls are different, and raising girls in one specific way destroys this individuality in favour of moulding girls to serve the same master. Still, the girls resist to live life on their own terms. If girls can be raised such that they know they can do anything they want, including not being girls, so too will boys raised as girls.

Q. Why not raise every girl as a boy? Because if a girl does not exist among boys, then the girl is made.

Q. Why not raise girls and boys as themselves? The self must be made in a world where girls and boys can first and foremost be themselves. One step towards this goal is to raise every boy as a girl.

Q. The way people raise girls is cruel, so why would you raise boys with that cruelty? If you raise girls with cruelty, then you should stop being cruel to girls.

/end description]

[deepinourengines]

unclean = adj. of or pertaining to uncles

[viewtiful-kim-deactivated202105]

Hamlet adaptation where Hamlet is a vlogger and all his soliloquies are breakdowns he uploads to YouTube

[animatedamerican]

… I am unironically here for this

[oldfilmsflicker]

this is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my life

[kabesattic]

This is - legitimately - my favourite delivery of Shakespeare I have EVER seen (and I have seen some good-ass productions yo, in the Globe Theatre itself even). Like seriously, even though the words are unchanged, he’s stripped away ALL of the archaic pretense and assumed grandeur of ~presenting the bard~ that makes even the most wildly talented of actors and innovative of productions inherently inaccessible to a modern audience. Like, they’re still great, they can still communicate the message and (some) of the nuance, but they’re still always a step removed from being identifiable to any viewer’s lived experience. They’re still always reciting 15th century poetry. But this guy? This guy is like, screw iambic pentameter, to hell with being precious about the material, HOW WOULD AN ACTUAL PERSON SAY THIS SHIT?

Like this. And it’s beautiful. It’s beautiful to hear a soliloquy I loved so much already, and have it come to life in a way it never, ever, did before. I feel like I grasp his motivations, his twists and turns, no longer on an academic level but on a visceral, instinctive one. Because he’s presenting his mental and emotional journey in a way that speaks honestly, like a real person.

So yeah, this shit post? I love it. Deeply and sincerely.

[spicedtealeaves]

A post about this went round recently, and I’m delighted to announce she’s since come out as trans and goes by Jasmine 🏳️‍⚧️

Jasmine Brimsmayd

Actor and Writer

There’s a whole series of the Hamlet videos on her YouTube, as well as a bunch of other films she’s made

[imsobadatnicknames2]

Nuke canada now

[imsobadatnicknames2]

Did y'all know that 70% of all mining operations in latin america and the caribbean involve a canadian transnational mining corporation?

[imsobadatnicknames2]

Anyway, when I was in college I was constantly going to marches and protests against canadian and saudi mining projects in the Santurbán páramo, one of the most important ecosystems in Colombia in terms of biodiversity, and the source of drinking water of 30+ municipalities in my state, including the city I live in. Ultimately these mining proposals lost their license due to environmental regulations.

But now that our new far-right president elect is looking to suck up to imperial core powers once again, canadian mining corporation Aris mining is interested in re-starting mining projects in Santurbán. Which, would inevitably give cyanide poisoning not only to my city's drinking water, but 30+ other municipalities and indigenous communities.

[imsobadatnicknames2]

The imperial core will see one of latin america's veins and go "is anyone gonna cut that open?" and not wait for an answer

[sagasolejma]

A lot of people really liked the hollow knight liveblogging post so i present to you SAGAS FANTASMATICAL SILK SONG LIVE BLOG:

[sagasolejma]

Hehe yayyyy I love hornet shes so cool :3

[sagasolejma]

Let me die in peace maam

[sagasolejma]

I will protect you with every inch of my silk

[sagasolejma]

How many of the religious anal beads do i need to give her to get her to step on me

[sagasolejma]

Big fan of this guy already

[sagasolejma]

Promising a wish seems like a big amount of pressure lol

[sagasolejma]

Against my better judgement i am gonna free this cute creature

[sagasolejma]

That was indeed against better judgement, what a battle

[sagasolejma]

OMG PUPPY??!?!?!?

[sagasolejma]

YESSSSS HAHAHA GO FORTH MY STEED

[sagasolejma]

How can you even luck up someone with q cute name as Grindle. Look at him! Acab fr

[sagasolejma]

omg ants!!!!🥺🥺🥺

[omtai]

Man I miss free the nipple. Its getting warmer and we don’t even have free the nipple anymore

[gramarye]

feminism has backslid so hard in recent years people don't even know what free the nipple means anymore

[briwhosaysni]

To clarify for those who don't know, "free the nipple" isn't about going braless, it's about going topless

No shirt, no bra, completely bare torso, just like cis men are allowed to

It's about desexualizing breasts and "female presenting nipples" and not being criminalized for our bodies if we want to go topless because it's a million damn degrees out. This was a popular growing movement that was still widely known a decade ago!

And the fact that not wearing a bra is so discouraged and stigmatized that people think the movement was about being able to go braless under your shirt in public rather than about being able to not wear a shirt at all says a lot about how far we've backslid in the past decade

[caspercryptid]

I would actually go as far as to say that MOST abuse is unintentional. I think most people will go through their lives without ever experiencing intentional abuse. People are abusive because they're selfish, because they're stressed, because they care more about what society thinks they should do than the impacts of their actions on their children and partners, because they think what they're doing is correct, because they've made it make sense in their own heads, because they think they can fix their victims, they think they can fix their relationships, they think they can stop you from leaving, they think they can make you a better partner to them, they think that means you need to do what they want. We've sort of constructed mental illness in a way that doing this shit to other people counts as a form of mental illness because it is anti social behavior in the literal sense— it is behavior that causes social harm.

I don't say any of this to excuse it. I think everyone needs to be more aware of this because if you think abuse has to be intentional you will never realize you are capable of abusive behavior. You will never realize you are being shitty to the people you love, because YOU know what you mean, YOU know you don't mean any harm. But you're doing harm. You need to pay attention to the impact you have on other people, and you need to do it all the time, Especially when you feel least capable of doing so. Sorry! You live in a society. Get your head out of your ass.

[sivavakkiyar]

Sun Ra

[screamingbingusthecromulentone]

[ID: this stagnant place of hate, by Sun Ra

you have wings— stretch them let them grow groundage is your fate unless you free them; crumble as they are crapped, ill-used, neglect fly then— fly towards wisdoms sun leave this ordained mausoleum, this stagnant place of hate and higher sounding word like freedom and justice and truth that beat and echo innocently against the futile walls chained enslaved hidden from sunlight or green field or living human face his frustration is here defeating death leave this place that's born and trapped and veiled where roses grow across pits of hell leave this place, none will help you, none will dare

you have wings; use them

/end ID]

[playwrongs]

TTRPGs (pronounced "Titterpigs") were a popular form of group amusement in the early twenty-first century.

[thefaultinourchickennuggets]

the bad thing about having unhealthy habits due to mental illness, is when you DO do something healthy style you can't brag about about it because then people will then know you've been doing it yucky style all along. Like you can't brag you changed your sheets or brushed your teeth because then ppl will be like oh did you not brush your teeth regularly before? Thats yucky disgusting! So you just gotta keep it to yourself. And be proud alone, I suppose.

[thoughtportal]

Susanna Clarke: ‘I had been ill for 11 years. I felt like I was about to fall off the world’

One hundred years after Virginia Woolf explored the limitations of language in On Being Ill, the Piranesi author reflects on the power of st

One hundred years after Virginia Woolf explored the limitations of language in On Being Ill, the Piranesi author reflects on the power of storytelling to shape our experience of sickness

In October 2016 I was in hospital. I had been ill for 11 years with something I called chronic fatigue syndrome, but in the previous six weeks I had been overtaken by a strange, sudden crisis. I was unable to eat – a day when I managed a couple of biscuits was a good day; at times I trembled so violently that my voice shook; at night I was overwhelmed by dread.

In the hospital ward a consultant gastroenterologist appeared.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“I feel,” I said, “very ill.”

This, apparently, was not the concise yet comprehensive answer that I had imagined it to be. He seemed to require something more. “Can you describe it?” he asked.

I couldn’t. That anguished, pressurised feeling – a sensation somewhere between burning and falling – that extended through my torso, my limbs, my entire body was by now so familiar to me, I was astonished that it didn’t have a name and that I didn’t know it. How could this be? I was, after all, a prize-winning novelist.

Frustrated I fell back on anger. Was the doctor stupid? Didn’t he know what “feeling very ill” meant?

In her essay On Being Ill, Virginia Woolf says, “let a sufferer try to describe a pain in his head to a doctor and language at once runs dry”.

At least I was in good company.

I remember very well what I wanted to say to the doctor: “I feel like I am about to fall off the world.” I had the sense to realise that he would probably not be able to do much with this. What doctors need is a clear description of something physical, but what the sufferer experiences may be as much emotional as it is physical – it may even have a spiritual component. It is very difficult in my experience to separate the different strands.

Nowadays, in the pit of my stomach there is a feeling I call anxiety. But when I ask myself what this sensation actually is, I realise that it consists of almost nothing at all – a very slight pressure. Yet, in spite of its nigh-on non-existence, the emotional weight of it drags at my days, pulls them all askew and makes me feel, despite my best efforts, constantly on edge.

Woolf says, “All day, all night the body intervenes …” And that is true: all day, all night the body is talking to us; but not necessarily in a language we understand.

Illness brings us up against the limitation of words, reminds us that what we experience will always be greater than the words we have to describe it. Dreams, silent meditations, experiences of God, moments of transcendence, moments we are aware of love, all of these evaporate into thin air, unless we scribble them down. At the age of 30, Julian of Norwich had an illness. Believing she was dying, she experienced a series of visions of God. The visions lasted for only one night, but she spent the rest of her life trying to distil them into a form that could be understood by other people. (She wrote two different versions, to be on the safe side.)

There is hardly any sense of struggle in On Being Ill. Struggle is what the healthy are doing, beyond the invalid’s window pane. Ant-like, they are rushing to and fro, being clerks and bus conductors and widows and lawyers. The shadowy figure at the essay’s centre – the figure who might be Woolf or who might be us – seems almost delighted to have fallen ill. They float like a stick on a stream; they are as gratefully irrelevant as a dead leaf being blown across a lawn; they watch the clouds mutate and form pictures above a London entirely unconscious of the beauty above its head.

This was an insight that I too gained in illness, and it is part of what I tried to write about in Piranesi: that there is a whole world endlessly going on, endlessly being beautiful, regardless of whether anyone is there to see it or not. Where Woolf and I part company is in what this means. For her it was evidence of the stark indifference of the universe to human beings: “Divinely beautiful it is also divinely heartless.”

For Piranesi, the central character of the book, and for me, the sheer profligate abundance of beauty is evidence of a universe intensely bound up with its creations. Piranesi walks through his world, cataloguing its contents, describing its wonders. This he considers his chief task in life. “The Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite.”

But perhaps the greatest joy of Woolf’s happy invalid is a sort of intellectual freedom. Cut off from the life of the busy bank-clerks and the bus conductors, widows and lawyers, they are free to read Shakespeare in a new and thrilling way, a way not available to them when they were healthy. Finally they are free from the shackles of other people’s opinions; they no longer care what anyone else has said about Shakespeare; they can read him and have their own thoughts.

As an ill person, you have gone down into a sort of underworld, sometimes oppressive, sometimes not; either way, what people say and think in the world above matters less and less. This can be very freeing for a scholar, a saint, a musician or an artist. I remember Kathy Acker saying something similar when talking about her writing process. At least I think it was Kathy Acker; I’m going back to the 1970s, so I can’t be entirely sure. But whoever it was described a nocturnal existence; she wrote at night in order to be free from other people’s thoughts.

To return to illness and language. If, in one sense, language “runs dry” in the face of illness, in another sense it is desperately needed. I remember in a discussion group long, long ago (I think about the importance of story) a young woman saying that she had once been ill and that she couldn’t get better until she was able to tell herself a story about what had happened to her. This struck me at the time as an important truth.

To take the simplest of examples: an elderly woman I knew used to suffer from neck aches. Whenever this happened, she would tell herself the same story: “I have this pain because I was silly and I sat in a draught from an open window.” She might have been aware of the draught at the time or she might not. It didn’t really matter; the existence of the draught could always be deduced from the existence of the pain, and as long as she was vigilant against draughts in the future, the pain wouldn’t be able to return.

A narrative makes illness seem rational – and it gives the sufferer a measure of control – or at any rate the illusion of it. This is particularly true of the sort of chronic illness in the face of which poor doctors are often at a loss. There is no obvious course of treatment for fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, long Covid and all the myriad forms of chronic illness. There is no drug to take that will restore you to who you once were. There is only narrative.

I know very well how grateful you feel to the doctor or therapist who provides a narrative to explain what has happened. And how upset and angry you feel when a different, perfectly well-meaning, doctor says something else or offers a theory that seems to threaten that narrative.

Of course one of the problems with being a writer with a long illness is that one can produce narratives without number. What would you like?

I can do you a revengeful, blame-apportioning narrative.

“She became ill after months of book tours, during which she crossed and recrossed the Atlantic on numerous occasions, all the result of her wicked publishers spending large sums of money on promoting her first novel – presumably out of sheer vindictiveness.” (A journalist once spent a surprising amount of time and energy trying to get me to say this.)

I can do you a zoological narrative.

“She was bitten by a blood-feeding tick and caught Lyme disease.”

I can do you a fairytale narrative.

“She wrote about fairies and now they have exacted their revenge and she lies ill of something mysterious and Lady-of-Shallot-adjacent.”

I can do you a childhood-adversity narrative.

“She was told as a child that she would never succeed and indeed did not deserve success. Having achieved success, she promptly fell ill in order to comply with her upbringing.”

I pause here. The narrative of being told I did not deserve success pulls at my heart, not only for myself, but for others too. Because, of course, I wasn’t the only girl of my generation to be told that. My school – a comprehensive on a run-down Bradford council estate – produced, as far as I know, only one other writer, Andrea Dunbar, a playwright of extraordinary talent. I don’t think I ever met her, but she must have been a year or two below me. She died at the age of 29 of a brain haemorrhage, possibly related to alcoholism. My best friend during the same period was a ridiculously talented musician who went on to have a hit record. She died before the age of 40.

You see, from one point of view, I got off lightly.

But if illness can be a story, so perhaps can the cure.

There is a bunch of interrelated therapies, all fairly recent, that share an interest in narrative. They are pain reprocessing, somatic tracking, polyvagal theory and others. The underlying idea is that in some people – and I stress some people – chronic illness might look like this: a very ancient and primitive part of the brain and nervous system believes it has detected danger, possibly a tiger or something like that, and so it produces pain or a whole range of symptoms in an effort to get the sufferer to close down and protect herself. The nervous system does this very effectively and it can carry on doing it for decades. It is really very inventive. I feel that mine ought to be eligible for some sort of prize.

It comes to this. A story you have on some level believed – that the world is fraught with danger – can be countered by a different story. Yes, the world is fraught with danger, but not everywhere, and not always, not here in this place and not now in this moment. You are safe.

So this is my narrative now, the story of how I got ill – and perhaps, if I pay careful attention to it, I will be able to retrace my steps through the labyrinth of my own body and return to safety.

This essay was originally commissioned for Charleston festival.

[sepdet]

A narrative makes illness seem rational – and it gives the sufferer a measure of control – or at any rate the illusion of it. This is particularly true of the sort of chronic illness in the face of which poor doctors are often at a loss.

I know that one so well. I’m oddly overjoyed at the discovery in recent years that Neanderthal is linked to several autoimmune diseases. I wait eagerly for confirmation that the disease I was born with is linked to Neanderthal heritage, that there’s a reason for everything I’ve been through.

[softness-and-shattering]

Theres been times drs have asked me for a pain number from 1-10 and I wish I could try write them a poem about it instead. Im not even sure I know how to tell the differrence between pain and discomfort anymore. Sometimes I know theres pain because I start twitching.

I can be at a loss for the type of descriptive words that medical professionals know how to make sense of. Thats not the same as being at a loss for words.

[anscathmarcach]

All this discourse over who does "painting with light"

Hiroshi Nagai's paintings need sunglasses to look at.

They look like how it feels to walk across a parking lot on a 98° summer day without a speck of shade in sight.

They look like heaven but also like you'd burn your bare feet on the ground.

Even when you can see shade you know it's not enough and the minute you step out you'll be burnt to a crisp like a vampire.

And it's BEAUTIFUL

[dbarenzu626]

I'll throw in the wonderful Eizin Suzuki into this ring too, a man whose work just breathes light without actually using dynamic lighting in the usual way. It's no surprise both Nagai and Suzuki are both considered prolific in art pertaining to the city pop genre because they're able to paint these kinds of scenes with a delicate touch.

This feels like I could trip on that radio and fall right into that water, feeling the crystal waves as I drop in.

And this, a nice stroll down a resort strip, where my sunscreened skin could literally feel cooked if I leaned too close to the tiling.

And then a nice stretch of summer street, wherein you could see your face in the flushed red of that car provided it didn't blind you from its sunny reflections.

I don't think I even need to say anything more, Suzuki's a massive influence in how he even places colours so warmly in such unorthodox manner. It's a naturally sunkissed talent~ 🌊

[shegayonmygirl]

Mahjong solitaire but it's grabbing files off your computer and every pair you make just deletes the file