Thanassis Stavrakis, A man carrying a sheep on a motorcycle during a wildfire in Patras, western Greece, August 2025
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
will byers stan first human second
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Monterey Bay Aquarium
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@soscialia
Thanassis Stavrakis, A man carrying a sheep on a motorcycle during a wildfire in Patras, western Greece, August 2025
'The Cabinet of an Art Lover'. Dominique Appia.
A lot of criticism of delivery apps focuses on the fact that they offer convenience and variety, which I find much less compelling than criticizing the fact that the apps often send their contractors on fetch quests from Hell.
There are real labor problems here. Base pay is often insulting. Customer tips carry too much of the burden. Workers need better protections, more transparent algorithms, protection from arbitrary deactivation, and actual recourse when the app or a customer screws them over. Car-dependent delivery is also an environmental and infrastructural problem, though in a denser city I’d still be doing this work; I’d just be doing it by bike.
But when people talk about delivery work, I rarely see them talk to actual delivery workers. I see a lot of abstract arguments about convenience, consumer decadence, “hustle culture,” and internalized neoliberalism. Meanwhile, when I’m out working and waiting in restaurants for orders, the other Dashers I meet are usually people who only speak Spanish, people who read as neurodivergent, visibly physically disabled people, or some combination of the above.
I have not met this mythical Disco Elysium poor ultraliberal hustlegrinder-wannabe people seem to be arguing with. Maybe that archetype exists somewhere. If it exists among any kind of gig worker, it would probably be rideshare drivers. But most of what I see looks less like “rise and grind” and more like “this is one of the few forms of work available to people who need flexibility, low barriers to entry, limited managerial surveillance, or a way to work around language barriers, disability, burnout, chronic illnesses and injuries with symptoms that come and go unpredictably, caregiving, résumé gaps, or discrimination.”
That does not make the current system good. It means the current system is filling a real gap that a lot of supposedly better systems do not even acknowledge.
As a disabled person who is burnout-prone and demand-sensitive, contracting as a delivery driver has given me an unprecedented level of financial flexibility. I can work when I have capacity. I can stop when I’m deteriorating. I can build my day around my actual body instead of being trapped under a manager who thinks “reliable” means “able to perform the same way every day no matter what.” That matters. It does not cancel out the exploitation, but it is also not fake just because it is politically inconvenient.
And delivery itself is not some inherently decadent evil. Sometimes people live alone. Sometimes they are sick. Sometimes they are disabled, exhausted, overwhelmed, grieving, overloaded, or recovering from something else - perhaps the stress and fatigue induced by their own job. Sometimes they need medicine, groceries, or a meal that will actually unplug their sinuses instead of whatever generic community-care slop someone thinks they should be grateful for. Humans are allowed to need specificity. “Food” is not the same as “the food I can actually eat right now.”
A serious labor critique would ask how to make delivery work safer, better-paid, less tip-dependent, less car-dependent, less algorithmically punitive, and less precarious. It would ask what kinds of flexible, accessible work should exist for people who cannot thrive in conventional employment. It would ask how cities could support bike delivery, worker cooperatives, public infrastructure, and real protections without simply replacing one bad system with a moral sermon about how nobody should ever want takeout.
But a lot of the discourse does not do that. It treats convenience itself as suspicious. It treats wanting flexible work as false consciousness. It treats the needs of disabled people, immigrants, and other people who can't fit into traditional employment structures as details to be swept aside in favor of a cleaner political image.
I guess the opinions of delivery workers only count when they are politically convenient.
hildegard of bingen + speaking in tongues
Ji Hyun Choi - Baeksu Baekbokdo 4, 2026 - Natural mineral pigments on silk
Sergiu Ciochină (b.2001 in Moldova, Based in Paris)
Sceaux Park" 2025
Oil on Canvas - 92 x 61 cm
Brian Eno, Drake Hotel, New York City, August 1974 by Linda D. Robbins
Franco Grignani Dissociazione al bordo (n. 145) 1967 Mixed media on schoeller cardboard and masonite 70 × 70 cm
i have made my life so difficult
just randomly logged on here for no reason. i used to use tumblr a lot. i feel like tumblr was my primary mode of socializing myself aside from working in customer service or going to college for eight years.
i am constantly overwhelmed by how much i have to sift through, how much i have partially digested and internalized, leaving massive amounts for future me.
i continuously let friendships fall by the wayside, unintentionally keeping everyone i love at arms length. i theorize and think, really ruminating, on how i need to change. praising myself for the pinpoint insight, but remaining blind to or at least excusing my inaction. i remain like a coward. which feels funny because i do feel like i look forward to change, and in the past have made a habit of embracing transformation.
i feel like i am undergoing constant evolution, but a whimpering one.
it has become increasingly difficult for me to express myself amongst peers, particularly at my job. but even when i am with close friends and family, i find myself still biting my tongue, or unsure how i should be contributing to the conversation. i usually just try to keep things light-hearted. i am not a comedian by any means but i like to add humor to most situations.
i am aware of many of my contradictions, one of which being that i feel that i am a genuine person, and people even tell me that i have a unique way of being myself, but when i hold a mirror up, when i am alone, i question who i am, if i really am being authentic.
i know i am not doing everything that i want to do in life, and i often think that i give up too easily, that i make excuses for myself, or that i am just lazy, or the passion that i once felt must have actually been imagined or performed, or just transient.
i have fallen victim to trying to keep my options open for too long, i have delayed making so many decisions that i now feel that my agency has shrunk to less than zero.
even typing this out feels like a distraction from something else i could be doing to improve my financial well-being or career development or artistic projects.
i have described my passions as being like an ever-rotating wheel of fortune. it is hard for me to be consistent in developing things because i feel like i am at the mercy of the tidal behavior of my moods.
Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me poster!
萩原 卓哉/Hagihara Takuya
Archive
Realizing I can't just shut down and push everyone away the second I feel misunderstood if I want to actually grow as a person and learn to tolerate discomfort enough to try new things and make my dreams come true with my own two hands
i found a reason/wild at heart edit :)
i love you laura palmer you mean everything to me
David Lynch, selected paintings and lithographs.
“When I’m not painting, I’m thinking about painting.”-David