#deletable

[ichabodcranemills]

at the risk of setting myself up for clownery, I really think TROP season 2 will give me more Saurondriel than Doctor Who gave me Thirster, which goes to show just how badly I was hurt by POTD

[transamwinchester]

Foods, diets, and eating discussion TW: Dean and Sam's relationship with food is so different. In an ideal life, Dean eats as much as he wants. He enjoys food and eats all kinds of things. On the other hand, in an ideal life, Sam would be vegan. The privilege for him is being able to choose and control what he eats without consequences.

[donnerpartyofone]

ramblings

honestly i hate it when people use this word in their content or URLs. i hate it as much and in the same way that i hate the overuse of the word “random”. both represent tactics designed to absolve the user of any obligation to communicate clearly, stand by their opinions, or otherwise allow that the things they choose to do and say and support are symptomatic of who they really are as an individual--as if the things that you engage with are just “something that happened”, like the weather, and there’s some separate secret “you” that has nothing to do with the waves of activity that appear to emanate from your person. not that everything has to be a manifesto, but constantly qualifying your every action or feeling as chaotic and indeterminate is insecure at best and fraudulent at worst. at any degree of severity, it is at the very least just fucking annoying.

but, i’m thinking about quitting tumblr again, and this line of thought could probably be safely categorized as a ramble. i mean i’ve been thinking about it for years, as much as anybody of my vintage does, although my ordinary complaints have just had to do with obnoxious technical and community issues. this net neutrality disaster is really pushing my buttons. can i really afford, mentally, to keep using a yahoo product? but the thing is, as soon as i think this, i’m assailed by internal synthetic echoes of the kinds of radical voices i’ve absorbed from tumblr itself. this is one of my worst personal problems, that i internalize other people’s voices with extreme success. so, as soon as i think about boycotting yahoo by leaving tumblr, i involuntarily imagine someone telling me that i’m an elitist pig for theatrically divorcing myself from a major corporation when many people, who are perhaps the most victimized by corporate behavior, can’t even choose to remove toxic corporate material from their lives, and that my empty gesture is even less than symbolic when i don’t know who picked the orange sitting on my desk and i’m typing this out using a slave-manufactured Apple product furnished by my employer who rather famously tortures its blue collar employees. this morning i was feeling good about using up leftovers for my lunch instead of letting them turn into climate-destroying food waste, until i thought about where the stray mayo packet i just used was going to wind up, and moreover where the plastic bag i used to tie up that trash was going to wind up, and what an asshole i was for thinking about how i can recycle the tin foil i wrapped my sandwich in when in fact recycling plants have been linked to cancer in their employees. i may have congratulated myself this morning for repairing my thrifted shoes with glue instead of throwing them out and replacing them, but the fact that they’re under my feet right now and for as long as i can keep them doesn’t affect the fact that some animal is going to be choking on them when i can no longer make use of them. so, the same internalized radical voice that calls me a huge piece of shit for participating in this or that march or protest, even though i do vote and i do put money toward needs and causes when i can, that voice is definitely here to tell me that dramatically leaving tumblr after seven years makes me at least as much of an asshole as does continuing to use it.

if you exist anywhere left of center lately, your available political energy is pretty routinely sapped by infighting that seems to insist that if your intentions as well as your strategies are not absolutely virginally pure, then you need to just shut the fuck up and pull on your hair shirt and bury yourself alive until a real rain comes to wash all the scum off the streets. it’s like, no progress shall be made until a progress arrives that simultaneously and equally improves all areas of life, leaving no remote potential for debate in its glistening wake. nothing you do matters because everything you do is evil and there is no shortage of people who can prove it to you. the cultural climate i live in has made me really adept at proving it to myself. like the second you think even of certain A list celebrities who use the rewards of their meteoric careers in order to give back to their communities, you can say, well, what’s the carbon footprint of one of their concerts? what’s the point of doing anything at all? it feels like there are really just two ways you can live your life: you can aim for self-actualization, which may do wonders for your personal identity but which seems to require constant material sacrifice on the part of everything around you, OR you can relegate yourself to some sort of extreme jainist existence in which you deprive yourself of every personal indulgence to the point that your individuality is so degraded that the question of the meaning of your life looms larger than ever in relief.

there’s also the question, as evidenced by all this leftist infighting, of who is even smart enough to think of as much as one thing to do that’s actually a good thing to do. even if i were to let go of my entire life as it is to commit myself puritanically to some cause, it seems like a sure thing that i’d pick the wrong cause, with a world of negative side effects for other causes. and on the general matter of choosing sides, i don’t even think i know what, like, anything is anymore. i saw this post float by the other day that said something about how sick the OP was of the fierce leftist protection of sexual predators, as if defending rapists were a popular tenant in left-of-center parties, and the post had tens of thousands of notes and i just couldn’t figure out what the fuck it was even referring to from real life. i understand that there’s a lot of talk about how, speaking in very limited terms, “democrats are as bad as republicans”, and i understand what that’s about structurally speaking, but as far as “left” and “right” goes it seems like the language has completely broken down to the point that it doesn’t even refer to anything anymore other than some almost facelessly broad ideas about whether you think the government should help you or leave you alone about X. maybe what i’m really trying to say here is just that i have no idea what the fuck anyone is talking about to the point that just being alive is like being permanently trapped in some foreign country without a single cent of local currency.

so anyway, once i’ve achieved a subterranean level of depression over the fucked up shit that happens as a direct result of every minute that i even exist on the planet earth, i ALSO start to collapse under the slings and arrows of another internalized voice, that of a shitheaded rightwing alpha dog who sees guilt as a symptom of extreme weakness, of useless fragility. and to some degree that’s true, if my main state of being is this dissolving soreness, then how could i possibly be effective even at something that appears to be “the right thing to do”? and moreover it’s like if every single thing i could conceivably do with my life is categorizable as “evil”, then “evil” ceases to be a worthwhile judgment to make and abide by. everything is nothing and nothing is everything so you might as well just do whatever you want, right? but of course that’s not acceptable because in doing whatever i want, with no regard for the worldly consequences, i still feel terrible. so to try to treat that condition, i for-just-one-instance choose to go to the tiny neighborhood grocer next door to the constantly-expanding chain store right next to him, and i remember to bring cloth reusable grocery bags, which of course i know will just be choking out flora and fauna after i’m dead or stopped using them, and then the radical leftist voice in my head berates me for just “doing good” as a hollow gesture designed to make myself feel and look better, and we’re back to everything is nothing and nothing is everything all over again.

and why even worry about this, or literally anything, when at any moment we’re all going to be bombed off the face of the planet because we’ve elected, seemingly for entertainment’s sake, this scandalous id monster who isn’t even a real politician? i’m running out of these daily pills that i need for some real dumbass reasons, and i need to make an appointment for my annual medical humiliation in order to get more of them, but it’s so hard to care. over the last several years i built up a certain amount of personal pride by “being brave” and submitting myself to normal adult maintenance routines, but the more of them i’ve been through, the more they just feel like some sort of kafkaesque ritual whose only result is its own existence. and if i’m just going to boil to death in the rising oceans anyway, why bother?

the most rational idea that my tiny shitty brain is able to come up with is that the best most of us can do is to just do what feels “right”, as often as is practically feasible. so i think, well, leaving tumblr would be a thing, even if it doesn’t make a real difference in real life, it would be something i did based on a feeling of at-least-vague altruism. but then i think of all my friends here, people who are remote and in bad spots in their lives who i can at monitor in some well-meaning way, and i think about my family members here and their excellent art projects that are facilitated by this place, and like doesn’t my thought process indicate that i think all of THOSE people are evil parasites too? i mean what is the ultimate extension of the logic i’m trying to employ here? when i think about that i feel like a bigger sack of shit than ever before. then i kind of start thinking about all the people in the history of my life who have openly categorized my depression, whatever its sources and symptoms at the time, as just me being a pill, being difficult, being negative, being counterproductive, looking for attention: the explicit or tacit response being, “why don’t you just _______?” but i don’t know what this ________ is that’s supposed to replace all my feelings and behavior. i guess that’s kind of the point of this whole thing, that i have no idea what the alternative is supposed to be, to all this, and how i can “just” do that instead.

so, maybe just because it’s something to do, i’m thinking of moving over to blogspot or something that makes me feel even slightly less complicit in the actions of these cartoon villains that run everything. i understand that if i do that, then i’ll be lucky to maintain relationships with even like ten of the people whose presence here i know and love. i assume i would just continue on as normal, although without the benefit of this often-amazing kaleidoscopic font of images and ideas, and the ability to glibly inject some “hilarious” thought of mine into other people’s uptake streams, and the surprise discovery of new and exciting people via the entropy that rules my dash. or maybe i won’t risk all that, and i’ll just sit tight right here, because what really would be the actual result of my bailing? maybe i’ll just delete this later today, when i’m feeling sufficiently embarrassed and overexposed about it. i guess i’m going to go spend money i don’t deserve to make on some stuff that i don’t need to have, in a place that damages the world when i have to live in both obvious and invisible ways, while i think it over, for the rest of my natural life. 

[winuin]

the fact that spanish is becoming a language that everyone thinks they can use because "it's popular" without actually trying to learn it is :) so :) upsetting

[wurmiv]

I may be in pain, and I may feel smothered. whether it be my actual bones feeling the wear of prolonged abuse or my mind as I obsessively think about my family, those kids, their turmoil.

but, the suffocation reminds me that I’m still breathing and that I’m alive.

that being said, I still have something to work towards.

I won’t lie when I say I’ve been feeling downright awful for a long time now, (which is no surprise, as I have addressed this multiple times, however) and I’m simply hitting another peak. it mostly consists of heartache and an ironic sense of homesickness, yet depression has this silly way of over exaggerating such experiences.

all the responsibilities I recently picked up- acquiring and processing my license and a car, insurance, maymester, full-time serving, moving arrangements, financial processing, transferring, and so forth, I’m lucky to even manage participation in galleries and even luckier to have a clear enough mind to draw and catch up on freelance opportunities.

as of right now, I’ve fallen behind on my passions. I’ve a small collection of commissions to be sent off, but no way of sending them, as there are no post offices nearby and I struggle in acquiring a ride in order to be able to deliver them (one of the reasons why I’m pushing for a license. that, and to be able to transport myself to school, work, and back-and-forth for my family without have to rely on others. it has proven that it not only agitates specific people, but also causes discomfort when concerning my family. it’s still a mess there, and I understand why they may feel unsettled). the artwork that I do share are all from previous semesters where, despite my schedule, was able to produce the majority during my studio hours in the spring and fall semesters. outside of school, however...

it’s all manageable, and I’ve more or less accepted this lifestyle as of right now. so, I’ve no reason to complain, nor do I hope that I’m coming across that way. yes, I want to vent. that’s why I’m here. if you’ve followed me long enough, you may have already picked up this pattern of mine. and, especially when I’ve actually fallen considerably silent to even those that I’m currently residing with, I’ve got to drill a hole through my temple and allow my brain matter to pour eventually. I’ve expressed my sleeping patterns as inconsistent, often rare, and minimal, as I average five-two hours per night as I did back then without naps. with my frequent activity and body that is still in the process of healing from years of malnutrition, it’s been proving a challenge.

I only point that out, because, yeah. that may explain why my emotions are especially through the roof. it’s probably fueling my depression, enhancing clinical (a-word), and when your body is worn, of course your mind goes down with it. 

as an update for family: I wish I had something new to say.

everything is the same. if not growing worse. but, that’s all information that I have rarely the right to disclose. at this point, I’m working on accepting that my parents don’t seek change in the lifetime they spent in this pattern and work more towards in recovering so that I may better provide for them with an able mentality. I’ve apparently been described as having symptoms reminiscent of ptsd due to my previous living standards, and my ed was actually provoked well beyond just one, traumatic event that took place when I was a child. it’s been over twelve years, and I’ve nearly got the puzzle pieces aligned. it’s actually incredible

that being said, I miss my siblings. a lot. the dreams I retain often revolve around them. my last nightmare consisted of just watching one of my younger sisters cry. that’s it. no context. just her, crying. 

I want to make more opportunities to see them, and maybe I’ll get that once I acquire this car. I don’t have long, and my time is precious... especially when I work most days that I do potentially have the ability to see them. (my parents don’t know I work. as some may know, I was not allowed to have a job for many years due to the heavy restrictions set upon me back then. I was able to manage telling my mom about my license a few days after actually obtaining it during a therapy session, but... that caused some drama, haha). often, this is challenging on its own, as my mom still builds walls that prevent me from being able to access such rights between me and those kids... I’ve come to give up requesting to talk to them over the phone, because she often stalled long enough to bring an excuse for me not to have a word with them.

I feel like a lot of the information I present in these, or the thoughts I express, are actually redundant. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve typed this all up a million times before. guess I’m guilty of sticking in this cycle just as much as the next person in this situation. it’s further evidence that I’ve a long ways to go

all in all, I’m very lucky to be living how I am.

it’s not perfect, but I do not expect perfection.

I may be a ticking time-bomb, I may not have very long here, but like hell I’m going to let this all stump me. I’m going to make the most of what time I have, what energy I have left to spare, and make every effort possible to reap the most of the resources I do have to offer.

some people in my situation do not even have the tools that I do in order to move forward. some have no family outside of the immediate and opposed to fall back on, some no friends to ask for a second word, some not even shelter. 

I’m grateful that I have just that.

but, there. that’s my purge.

this is really my only window to cram in some homework and studying for my exam and lab monday morning, as I work tonight, have priority events throughout the day saturday, and sunday more work. it’s about time I got meself focused

(but, hey. I actually have some enjoyment when serving these southern folk their heavily drenched pastas and wine. watch as this wurm swaggers across, trips on a shoelace, then crashes with a tray full of glasses that probably weigh just as much if not more than this wrinkled slug.

‘hoiyo, how are we doin’ this evenin’? me name’s wurm, and I would be more than happy to serve you goiys, toni-’)

[mohiraimo]

random but I finally switched from spotify to apple music just to be able to listen to jyp artists tbh

[yugitsu]

new icon, who dis?