Raising the dead is not a healthy coping mechanism
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AnasAbdin
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KIROKAZE

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Janaina Medeiros
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@yrvampirecrush
Raising the dead is not a healthy coping mechanism
Source
We have cars that talk to us and can drive themselves but the check engine light hasn’t evolved to give us any more information than “hey, something ain’t right”
“And remember: the sky is the limit! You can be anything you want to be!”
“Thank you. I want to be a secretary.”
That stopped them short. “What?”
“A secretary,” she repeated.
“But…” they trailed off, dumbfounded. “Why? You could be a CEO, a scientist, a law–”
“I don’t want to be a CEO,” she said. “I want to be a secretary.”
They scoffed. “You want to answer phones all day?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
“Schedule appointments?”
“I like organizing.”
“Be a second banana?”
An affirmative nod. “I’m skilled at helping.”
“I just don’t understand,” they said. “HOW could you be okay with all of this?!”
“I enjoy the work.”
“BUT YOU CAN BE WHATEVER YOU WANT TO BE!”
“I know.”
“Then WHY?!”
She shrugged.
“Because I want to be a secretary.”
Honestly though, this is very similar to my mom’s experience. She’s always been super bright, but has realized as she’s gotten older that intellectual pursuits just aren’t her jam. She dropped out of her PhD program to have kids, and although she has her master’s and was a pretty good school psychologist, she hated having to make huge decisions. She’s a church secretary now and loves it, and she’s GOOD at it; she’s letting her school psych certification permanently expire this year with zero regrets. If you can be anything you want, that includes the things we don’t tend to value as highly as a society. Not everybody is built for or wants the “respectable” careers.
My grandma did this to me, saying that i didn’t want to get stuck on the outside, making coffee and filing papers. The thing is, that’s exactly what I’ve always enjoyed the most, making and organizing things. That would be enough for me.
Nobody seems to realize that if you tell people they can be anything they want to be they will. And not everyone WANTS to be doctors or lawyers or CEOs or scientists. Sometimes, they just want to be a secretary.
it took me a LOT of therapy before i was able to shrug off the effects of the Gifted Child Upbringing enough to realize that what i really wanted to be was a house husband and Local Queerdad who writes novels sometimes. god, i’m so much happier now.
ain’t nothing wrong with an ordinary life. don’t let anybody tell you you have to be the top dog to be worth anything.
Sometimes lesbians do get happy endings.
Mum wasn’t going to come to my wedding. It was hard, but I’d made peace with that. My girlfriend and I would get married without her blessing.
Then, two days before the big day, when we were already in New Zealand, I got a frantic call at 11pm at night. I answered it and it was her, crying and asking if she’d still be welcome. We said yes, of course, and she booked herself last minute flights to get to New Zealand.
When I first saw her outside the registry, all dressed up with her hair done and holding flowers, I burst into tears. She came up to me and touched my face, saying, “You look so happy. Both of you, you look so happy,” and gave us these roses.
They’re more than flowers to me.
They’re given to me by a women to cried and shouted and refused to talk about my sexuality for seven years after I came out to her. It may not seem like much: but she had to walk into that flower store and buy these. She had to choose roses - the symbol of love - for her gay daughter and her gay daughter’s ‘friend’. There’s an admission in that. There’s acceptance in that. These roses say, “I know you love each other,” and she gave them to us at our wedding, which she flew three thousand kilometres to attend.
I sobbed as she placed them in my hand.
Because nothing will ever touch what it feels like to finally, finally know your mother loves you just the way you are.
I’m so glad you got to have this, Internet Stranger
My mind is like an internet browser. 17 tabs are open, 4 of them are frozen and I don’t know where the music is coming from.
Do you ever think about how sperm don’t work right at body temperature and that’s why males have external testicles? Design-wise that is such a huge risk to take. Your most important organ is swinging free outside your body, vulnerable to injury or attack. All because one (1) type of cell, your fucking gametes for christ’s sake, cannot function at the normal body temperature of the organism they belong to. What the fuck. I never want to hear a man try and say females are biologically inferior ever again.
While I’m at it also they have to share one hole that they both pee and have sex out of. That’s fucking gross and unsanitary. Everytime a man cums in you you’re also getting all the pee that was in his urethra enjoy that thought ladies. You know how many holes birds have? One. They pee, poop and have sex all in the same hole it’s called the cloaca. You know how many holes women have? Three. Because we evolved one. Evolution-wise, men fall somewhere between a chicken and a human female. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.
Evolution-wise, men fall somewhere between a chicken and a human female
Is just about the most legendary sentence I have ever read in my life in any language..
I don’t have a train of thought I have seven trains on 4 tracks that narrowly avoid each other when the paths cross and all the conductors are screaming
It’s ironic.
When I worked in fast food for minimum wage, they would yell at us and lecture us about “stealing” fries and burgers (while we had to throw out TONS of food every day) as though the giant billion-dollar corporations of McDonald’s and Sonic couldn’t afford to give their employees something to eat (while not even paying us a living wage).
Now I work at an upscale restaurant (it’s fancy, like celebrities eat there fairly often) and not only do I make WAY better money but they give us 2 free meals a day (eaten on the clock) and they’re GOOD. Today I got baked cod, spring rolls, rice pilaf, stir fry, and mashed potatoes and eggplant. Oh, and free espresso and juice. From this restaurant owned by a local man who is in no way a billionaire.
Obviously money is not the issue, valuing your employees as people is.
This needs all of the reblogs. All of them.
I can care about you and still cut you off and I can miss you and never talk to you again.
working with children is a wild fucking experience yall. this morning at work one of our second graders got my attention and was like “you know what word my mom told me not to say? PUSSY.” and i was like “then why did you just say it??” and she went “i dunno” and then dabbed
No worse than Michelangelo…
Ничем не хуже Микеланджело
“At the grief workshop we drummed and journaled. The facilitator said that because we are continuously bombarded by bad news, we live in a state of chronic secondary trauma. It starts as soon as we are born with our cave-child DNA, expecting to see forty pairs of eyes looking toward us, asking us what we dreamed that night, if we want to help collect firewood, if we’ll be at the ceremony tonight with the elders. Our psyches were never prepared to deal with the isolation of American culture, nor the sadness of the tragedies we see every day, nor the reality of our dying ecosystems. For hundreds of thousands of years grief rituals recalibrated the fields of trauma. These days there is no communal cup of sorrow; there is only psychotherapy, which colludes with the privatization of property, the privatization of consciousness, and the privatization of grief — with “own your sorrow.” These days, the great fear we have about grief is that we have to face it alone. And so people avoid it and it settles like sediment over our psyches. There is personal grief, but since we are all connected, there is also the sorrow we feel for the world right now. And that cannot be processed alone. We cannot think our way through this mess. Nor can we moralize our way through it. Our workshop leader suggested that the thing that will save us may be our own broken hearts, for true action can only come through these deeper feelings.”
— This, on why we don’t and must talk about the weather.
Elspeth Beard, shortly after becoming the first Englishwoman to circumnavigate the world by motorcycle. Her journey took 3 years and covered 48,000 miles.
Uh, just as a warning to anyone out there attracted to women: the other photos of her that exist are at least equally as hot, which is fucking terrifying.
This woman could ride up to me, take of the helmet and dramatically shake out her hair, and ask me to leave my life behind to run away adventuring with her