You’re living, you occupy space, and you have mass.
You know what that means?
You matter
Sade Olutola
Game of Thrones Daily
Peter Solarz
One Nice Bug Per Day
$LAYYYTER

@theartofmadeline
Stranger Things
h
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Origami Around
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
occasionally subtle

Kaledo Art

pixel skylines

tannertan36

ellievsbear
art blog(derogatory)
wallacepolsom
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@smallcatalysts
You’re living, you occupy space, and you have mass.
You know what that means?
You matter
meeting Kinsey scale
When people talk about all art being political (hard agree) they always talk about the content, themes, etc present within the art itself. Which obviously I get and obviously is a huge part of it. Of course. But I’m personally always struck by the politics surrounding the more metatextual elements of the art; that is, stuff like access to the tools needed for the creation of the art. I mean the literal materials of which an artpiece is made. This is a low-hanging-fruit example but I’m reminded of that Disney adult who tried to claim art isn’t inherently political by being like “I just drew a stick figure on a napkin, is that political? 🤣🤣” & while I think there are multiple different angles from which one could criticize this blatantly pathetic argument, I remember being really struck by like… the flagrant “waste” of implicitly throwaway resources that many parts of the world just literally don’t have and/or that carry with them deeply fraught histories of capitalist labor exploitation and destruction of natural resources. Like. Napkins?? The apolitical canvas that is paper napkins?
living mango to mango
diet culture has killed millions and that is not an exaggeration. the size of your body is the least interesting thing about you. please stay alive.
After school care pulled me aside about my child dropping an f-bomb “without remorse” and I put on my concerned face and nodded a bunch.
Apparently he was building something with a younger kid “who really looks up to him and is just starting to make friends” and said “Hey, you’re really fucking good at this.” which is, in my estimation, really a parenting victory.
I absolutely failed at doing this:
Shout out to trans women who aren’t computer scientists or musicians or avant-garde artists or whatever.
Shout-out to tgirls who work at Taco Bell. Thank u queen, society would collapse without you
Over twenty years ago my big brother got me a job at a Taco Bell in the St. Louis suburbs-West County. He warned me that it was the “gay Taco Bell”, but since I was coming from the “gay Howard Johnson’s” I wasn’t shocked. It turns out it was the black trans women Taco Bell complete with black trans women in management. And they’d worked out an arrangement with the local teen Narcotics Anonymous group so that twice a week we would shut down the drive thru and the dining room and exclusively serve 60+ teens in various stages of recovery. And many of the women I worked with were in various stages of being out or transitioning and they were from all generations from teens to over 50. One woman I worked with had a regular corporate job presenting as a man 9-5 Mon-Fri and then came to Taco Bell and worked 6pm -2am Friday and Saturday night so she could be herself surrounded by other black transwomen in those stolen weekends. And we had customers come from all over the metro area because they knew they could be themselves in the dining room. I only worked there from 1999-2001 but for young me, this was a vital, formative experience. Some of the girls came from north city all the way out to the “gay Taco Bell” on Manchester in west county because they heard it was safe to work there. Like- I know times have changed but they haven’t changed much in 20 years. I’m still convinced that for lgbt youth, finding a job at your city’s version of the “gay Taco Bell” is key to survival.
Thank u for sharing this with us
got a giant and i mean GIANT fresh-squeezed strawberry lemonade at the farmer's market today. i'm talking like a full quart with a straw in it. very delicious. five dollars. nice. as i was leaving, laden with vegetables, a young man waved at me and asked where i had acquired my immense beverage. and after i pointed him toward the stall and informed him of the various prices and flavors, he looked toward the sky, basketball shorts flapping in the breeze, and bellowed to the heavens, "oh i am gonna SLUUUUUUUURP that." happy slurp that saturday everyone.
The "Have you been here?" blog is the best gimmick blog because every post is like "Have you been to this remote convenience store in northeastern Latvia?" and the results are 99.9% no's but then you open the notes and there's 3-5 Latvians losing their absolute minds
❗Achievement Unlocked: Summon 3-5 Latvians
abortion is a fundamental right. but our conceptualization of reproductive justice cannot begin and end with abortion rights. it also has to include the right to make an uncoerced decision whether or not to have children.
reproductive control – e.g. forced sterilization and the trafficking of marginalized children – is a bog standard tool of colonialism and genocide.
there are a lot of people who consider themselves anti-capitalists who are altogether too comfortable with the implementation of systems to redistribute poor people’s children to the wealthy
the problem with genetically modified crops is not so much the genetic modification but the patenting of genetic codes (and crops in general) as a tool of maintaining agricultural imperialism, and for this reason I can't talk to most people about GMOs
Once you start noticing how the incapacity to handle discomfort affects how people live their lives it's actually pretty shocking how it ruins pretty much every conceivable aspect of existence. Interpersonal relationships, romantic and platonic. Career and education opportunities. Your politics Your willingness to go anywhere. The kind of food you eat. The kind of art you expose yourself to and your ability to read it. It's never just one thing, it touches everything, and once you notice it it's like suddenly being able to see germs or something. Just this horrific catastrophe people look at you askance for screaming about. As I grow older and see what became of my friends and peers who could not learn to handle discomfort, the more I'm like. This is a genuine societal issue
When you can't handle discomfort, eventually discomfort itself starts to feel like you're under attack. Your body enters flight or fight mode, and your amygdala starts screaming at you that you are In Danger even when the "danger" in question is like, making an unpleasant phone call or like, you're reading a book about something gross.
Your ability to make frank assessments about your situation becomes compromised, because, well, when you're under attack who's going to stay still and go "Let me think this through?" Of course you're going to panic. The phone call isn't just unpleasant, it's potentially life-ruining. Someone is going to think you're dumb and that's going to be TRUE and then I guess you die or something except dying would be better. The book isn't just gross, it's actively coming for you, tainting your mind with the memory of its contents, it has RUINED you.
Obviously, you want to try avoiding danger whenever possible. So you create a world in which you avoid all dangerous things. Traveling? Well that's scary, what if you get robbed or lost? Better to avoid it (plus there are so many things to read, rules to remember, forms to fill out... it's just too much, it makes you uncomfortable, which means YOU'RE IN DANGER, what if you FORGET SOMETHING CRITICAL? Better to avoid). A new job? Well what if it's worse than your current one? You at least know the rules here. The unknown is so much more uncomfortable, which is DANGEROUS, so better to stay where you are. A dark-skinned foreigner? Do they even speak English? You don't know how you'd communicate. They don't know the laws here, surely? Plus what if other people think you're racist? It's so uncomfortable which means THEY ARE A DANGER. Best to avoid at all costs, keeping your bag clutched tightly to your chest. Vaccines? You don't really know what's in them. The explanations have a lot of words you don't understand. That makes you feel suspicious and dumb, which is DANGEROUS. You said something that was kind of rude? UNCOMFORTABLE. THIS PERSON IS ATTACKING YOU. FIGHT OR FLIGHT. Someone says you were incorrect about something? DANGER. Someone says you reacted impulsively and seem to have misconstrued someone's words as a personal attack? YET ANOTHER ATTACK.
Eventually you lose yourself and become this. I don't even know. This totally reactive thing, unable to think analytically about anything (which is uncomfortable and a danger), unable to assess harms, unable to encounter anything new without having a meltdown. And none of it is a real escape because, well, you've created a life defined entirely by aversion to discomfort, which is the most uncomfortable life you can possibly imagine. Of course such people end up falling into fascist ideas about Why Your Life Sucks. When you build a life around trying to maintain as comfortable an equilibrium as possible, you cauterize the parts of you capable of growth, expansion, creativity, learning; at the same time, the knowledge of your own stuntedness is haunting so best not to think about that either. The world becomes this horrifying mirror maze where the only way to survive without offing yourself is by projecting your flaws onto others, bitterly externalizing your self-hatred (who could live like this and NOT hate themselves) just to avoid turning it inward. You end up living like a hollowed-out sea urchin
A lot of people I've met seem to think that mental healthiness is characterized by a lack of discomfort whatsoever, and are therefore justified in building a life where all discomforts can be avoided. On the one hand, I completely understand the impulse. Lord knows I have had colossally shitty times and wished I could just retreat into bed and fall asleep for as long as needed for everything to blow over. But like. You also have to understand that that's a fantasy, not a solution. When you have grown up living a crap life with nothing but discomfort, the ability to avoid it feels like exercising autonomy. But you really do have to be careful about making this your life ethos. I know so many people who have lapsed into total learned helplessness, so consumed by discomfort (mentally catastrophized into dangers) re: looking dumb, looking rude, looking X, looking Y that they just. Idk. Don't do anything except be bitter. You don't have to be that way. The solution isn't "tough it out" because that's also just a manifestation of your inability to handle discomfort. I also hesitate to say the solution is to focus on how much better your life will be when you do X and Y, because the entire point of the inability to handle discomfort is that it constantly manifests in precluding the possibility of even wanting X and Y in the first place since to want it and not be able to do it IS in itself another source of discomfort.
Idk what the solution is, exactly. I just think it's important to understand that sometimes things can feel awful and still not necessarily harm you
One of the interesting things about this phenomenon is that both privilege and marginalization can be their own pipelines to hypervigilance and stress intolerance.
Basically, people who are privileged, sheltered, and immediately "saved" from any stressor tend to demonstrate these kinds of overreactions.
On the other hand, people (especially marginalized folx) with extensive trauma histories tend to have these same patterns. In this case, cPTSD symptoms (and often burnout) result in a nervous system that is already so maxed out on stress that there's no capacity for change or newness.
The good news: regardless of how this extreme avoidance started, it's never too late to grow out of it.
Let's talk solutions
It's starts with practicing intentional, structured discomfort. Choose a change that is feasible, such as something that is logically beneficial to you.
If you're neurodivergent, it might help to have a safe person present, reduce sensory overstimulation, and regulate your body with some movement and deep breathing.
Then do the thing. Use whatever supports are necessary. Just do it.
And after you succeed at not dying, reward yourself! Reflect on what you gained by practicing, even if the only "gain" was proving that discomfort isn't lethal. Use self-care to soothe your nervous system and celebrate the change you've initiated.
Then do it again, and again, and again.
every fleetwood mac documentary i've ever watched is like "the band was at the height of their success, enjoying the fame rolling in from their #1 hit 'i know about the other woman, lindsey'. however, nobody could have sensed the tension brewing between members."
"the group initially disbanded immediately after the release of the single 'well get the fuck out if you're going to be like that', leaving thousands of fans shocked."
i bring a sort of "there's a fatphobic terror at the centre of all eating disorders" vibe to the conversation that thin people don't like to hear
Something I have been thinking about a fair bit recently is how important it is to know how to talk to people with dementia, and how so many people don't actually have any real awareness of how to do that, so, off the top of my head, here are a few things that might help:
the way you frame your conversations is important! People with dementia are often, particularly at the earlier stages, very much aware that their memory is getting worse. This can make them very anxious, which isn't fun for anyone, least of all them. One of the most common things that people say to people with dementia is "do you remember ___?" as a way to try and prompt their memory. This feels helpful, but it's not. Because hey, in all likelihood, that person does not remember ___, and being confronted with this fact is not going to make them feel great. Remember that they literally have a degenerative brain disease; they're not going to suddenly regain their memories because you tested them. Instead, try talking about your own memories. Tell them what you remember. Tell it like a story. If they remember, then they can join in. If not, then hey, it's a nice story.
don't correct them if they say something wrong. Their version of reality is not going to be the same as yours. That's just a given. My grandma is often convinced that she's just on a very long holiday in a nice hotel, and that her dad is waiting outside in the car. I'm not going to tell her "uh, actually, you're in a care home and your dad died 50 years ago," because who's that going to help? Quite literally no-one. It'll just confuse her more, and she's already confused enough. Even if the person is saying something that's making them anxious - a common one is believing that people are stealing from them, or that someone is being unkind to them - then it's easier to try and distract them by trying to talk about something that you know makes them happy, rather than to outright tell them that they're wrong. Being consistently told that they're wrong can make them react defensively; they're not children, and they (usually) know it. It's just easier not to get into a confrontation.
get used to repetition. Don't get frustrated when you have the same conversation 25 times in two minutes. It's going to happen. For them, it's the first time you've had that conversation; they won't understand why you're angry at them for asking a question. It's completely normal to feel frustrated, but the onus is on you not to make it their problem. My grandma's short term memory is, charitably, about 3 seconds long. A conversation with her at this point is like rehearsing for a play; I know her lines, and I know mine. That's just how it is. She gets just as much joy out of telling me that she likes my cardigan for the 86th time as she did the first time she said it. People with dementia are not able to retain the information or the memory of that previous conversation; reminding them that you've already answered their question is just going to confuse and upset them.
don't take things personally. They might say things that are unkind. They might say completely inappropriate things. Again: their brain is deteriorating. It is a medical condition. They're not becoming bad people, or showing their 'true selves' to be evil and rage-fuelled. It's a combination of the fact that they're living in a perpetual state of confusion, which can lead to frustration and anger, and the fact that their ability to process and respond to information is affected by the dementia itself. If they say something cruel to you, you just have to take it on the chin and recognise it as a symptom of a disease that they're not able to control. Step out of the room for a moment if it gets too much. I've been fortunate in that my grandma has never experienced this symptom, but it's very common, and it's no reflection of you, or them.
don't treat them like children. My grandmother is 92 years old and she will look at you like you're the bane of her life if you try and tell her what to do, or use baby talk. Keep your sentences short and clear to avoid confusion, but don't ask them if they need you to clean their wittle fingies.
try and avoid open-ended questions, especially ones that involve memory recall, like "what did you do on the weekend?". My grandma was an absolute queen at making shit up when people asked her that, because she couldn't remember a damn thing, and she never liked to admit that she couldn't remember, because it made her stressed and anxious. "I picked up leaves" was her personal favourite, for some reason. I used to just tell her about my weekend instead, and sometimes she would joyfully tell me (completely falsely) that she also went to the shops, and that was much less stressful for her; she wasn't actively trying to come up with an answer to cover for her own lack of memory, and instead felt like she was part of the conversation on her own, equal terms.
most importantly: don't try and pull them back to reality. The best way I've learnt to communicate with anyone with dementia is to enter theirs instead. Sometimes, this is referred to as 'validation therapy'. It's about acknowledging that the reality of someone with dementia is as real to them as your reality is to you, and you're not going to be able to 'reorient' them to your version of reality, because they don't have the short term memory or ability to retain information that would enable that. Put simply: if my grandma asks when my uncle is going to come home, I gain nothing from (correctly) informing her that he's dead. This just upsets her, because every time she hears it, she's receiving the news of his death for the first time. That sends her into a spiral of grief and anxiety that remains even after the memory of his death has vanished again. Instead, I just tell her that he'll be home after lunch. She nods, accepts it, and we're both happy. My uncle is still dead, but in her world, he's going to come home soon. It's a way of having empathy for the person with dementia, and acknowledging that your reality, or objective 'truth', is not more important than their wellbeing.
Godspeed, and best of luck to anyone who needs this advice, because I truly wish that no-one did.
shout out to this person for the homework help i guess