velociraptor-rings

[velociraptor-rings]

another pinned post because i can't be consistent to save my goddamn life.

about me:

i'm seventeen, an incoming high school senior. i enjoy songwriting and obsessing over men who will never like me back >:). on this blog you can expect shitposts, oversharing, long diary posts, relatable content(TM) for hot bitches with eating disorders, and a troubling amount of mitski lyrics.

boundaries:

dni: listen i'm not big on the whole dni banner deal but if you're racist, a terf, pr0ana, ableist, then as a trans autistic poc, i will tell you to fuck right off xo.

porn blogs and ed fetishists can fuck right off too, i'm a minor and i bite.

trigger warning for almost anything you could possibly need a tw for: discussions of EDs, abuse, self h4rm, drvg use, vaping, alcohol use. also nsfw shit, as in i will rant about my sex life (or lack thereof), but nothing weird or explicit.

if you need/want to block me for any reason, i won't take it personally.

my dms are open with the following caveats:

if you dm me and you're under 14 i will block you. it's nothing personal, you're a child and i'm almost a legal adult, and although i have no intent of harming anyone, i won't be the one who teaches you to trust grown strangers online. for all you know i could be a creepy old man.

if you're an adult, it's fine to dm me, please just don't be weird.

[velociraptor-rings]

pov even the idrlabs can't tell u who you are

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im gonna start posting on this boy more often

[velociraptor-rings]

on my itty bitty titty backup page that no one follows

REBLOG IF YOU ARE HELLA BORED AND WOULDN’T MIND SOME CURIOUS ANONS.

[velociraptor-rings]

i wOnT pOsT aBoUt A aNyMoRe my brother in christ he's literally fifty per cent of your blog these days 🤡🤡🤡

i said i wouldn't post about A anymore and i won't. i will only talk about him as it pertains to real, current events in my life. this is one of those times.

there is another person in the group, L, who suspects, if not knows, that i have feelings for A. and when he asked me (over snap), i straight up denied it, of course.

but that conversation chastened me, even left me feeling a bit embarrassed, about my secret optimism. still it was an emotional turning point, and i'm proud of how i handled it. and no one has brought it up since.

not directly.

i have trouble with this stuff, as y'all know, cause i'm autistic. but my pattern recognition makes up for a lot of the social understanding i lack. and i've noticed a pattern that leads me to believe i'm being antagonized. let me explain.

so A ignores me in the group chat for the most part, which, whatever, there's nothing i can do. and i ignore him right back, because i might have been dumb enough to vie for his attention before, but i'm not now. but i still participate in gc conversations, because i like the friends i made through him.

the thing is, whenever i indirectly reply to A, L will follow up saying "oh my god, 6ft emo boys" in what i'm pretty sure is a mocking tone, conveyed through text or voice message. it weirds me out, but there's nothing i can do but play dumb and ignore him. otherwise i'll give it away.

it's so annoying. i'm not admitting to jack shit. the only proof L could possibly pull up, if he were to go that far, which he wouldn't, are my conversations with people he doesn't know, or my tumblr posts. i wish he'd stop doing that but like i said, i'm not even sure he's doing it.

gaaaaaaah. okay, the only updates y'all will get are me losing feelings or A finding out. let's hope it's the former. the latter would be a disaster.

[velociraptor-rings]

donut cum that's it that's the post

//diary, sunday march 20th

maybe it's a sign that my first draft of this entry was lost to poor phone service. i've since had twenty four hours to compact the ideas and thoughts and events, and it might not be thumb-numbing novel length.

i biked to work. the weather was nice and my parents were unwilling to drive. i hadn't biked in over a year and a half, and the whooshing, wheeling motion was pleasantly familiar. but i'm not in great shape, especially with my recent... habits, and a great deal of the ride is uphill. i stopped only when my thigh muscles were searing and my lungs and throat felt raw. as soon as i clocked in i grabbed a bottled water from the cooler, downing half in a single gulp.

cute guy i talk to on snap wasn't there. i'd seen him post to his story that morning, but i suppose his shift ended before mine began. oh well. i'm chatting with him as we speak.

i was responsible for yet another "full bake." "baker" is a charitable job description, as all we do is pull frozen baked goods to be thawed, heated, and smothered in glaze or powder or frosting. it's mundane, but physically demanding and quite time consuming.

i despaired that once again, i wouldn't be able to complete the bake in my five hour shift. but my manager assured me that someone would be coming in later to finish what i started, which took some of the pressure off.

i washed my hands, rolled up my sleeves, and hit shuffle on my work playlist: "no skipping no crying no bitching." to start, my least favorite task: carrying boxes from the freezer.

seeing as my hyper independence prevented me from asking anyone to get the door, there was no way id get more than one box at a time. every second in that ice cold hellbox had me irritated. at the space for being poorly organized and forcing me to play "heavy boxes at eye level" tetris to get what i needed from the back, at my thirteen year old self for listening to a poorly written creepypasta about a murderer stuffing the dead bodies of fast food workers into the restaurant meat freezer, thus letting my imagination run wild when i was in there.

i actually take pride in my hatred of the freezer as the most normal thing about me. it's not reflective of debilitating anxiety, or obsessive compulsive behavior, or the mild paranoia that's been creeping up on me lately. it's not related to a pang of deep emotional trauma or severe phobia. i despise the freezer and would gnash my teeth if asked to venture in one time too many, nothing more nothing less. it makes me feel like a real person and not a collection of symptoms and daydreams and fragments of--

once the dreaded freezer was out of my way, i focused on the glaze donuts while the non-glazed went through the oven. i'd have to hand glaze them, which was a pain. but oh well, all the more time to make juvenile jokes about creamy white liquid. mitski, hozier, caged the elephant, pierce the veil, and my usual silly daydreams faded in and out of focus as i waited for the excess donut cum-

*sigh* okay, fine.

-glaze to drip back onto the glaze table before putting in the next tray. it only took three and a half hours for all the donuts to be baked, and all the glazed goods to be baked and set on the rack, ready to sell the next day. i finally tackled the bagels and muffins, gritting my teeth and making two final round trips to the freezer. my manager was heading out as i started on the jelly-filled donut holes. he asked if everything was good, and reminded me to leave something for the next baker to do.

even as i was eager to clean up and pedal home, the child within was disappointed that i couldn't do the creame filled donuts and privately say i was "impregnating" them.

everything cleaned up at 6:55, i poured myself some oreo hot chocolate waiting for the muffins to finish. i didnt think about the calories until it was halfway down, then i tossed it. it wasn't that good anyways.

at 7:10, i clocked out, unlocked my bike, and pedaled three miles home.

i returned to leftovers in the fridge. my parents suggested making smores, and i gave only a "maybe." they did it without me. ouch. oh well.

i stood beneath the hot water, massaging the sore muscles under three week old scars, clearing my pores of fast food fumes and powdered sugar, and fighting with myself. the vigorous exercise split my brain in two. to skip a meal, or eat as much as i needed to restore my body. i chose the latter.

hate, hate, hate.

still, the stuffed salmon and quinoa salad were right there. i'd rather drink the president's gastric fluid than waste food this nice. my instinct to pair the salmon with sour cream was a good one.

the quinoa salad reminded me of last summer, when id bring a tupperware of the stuff to my four week intensive of les misérables. best weeks of my life. i'd almost relapsed one night then, but id reached out to friends, and talked myself down.

i couldn't imagine doing that now.

i was so happy then.

so stable.

how could i ruin it like this?

i felt terrible after the meal, but my overall mood was half decent. school tomorrow. school meant friends, school meant violin, school meant nic, school meant exercise.

priorities, priorities.

i went to bed at quarter to ten, unusually early. i felt accomplished and incomplete and warm and so so so

alone.

as always, here's a bee 🐝 friend if you read all this shit. stay safe babes x.

[velociraptor-rings]

tonight we have another show choir concert.

tonight i will marvel at how much has changed.

tonight i will look at him in the dim backstage light.

try not to complicate things so much.

and just let myself take in his silhouette.

his T07 eyes (see chart below, lol).

his cheekbones.

his soft hair.

i'll thank whatever higher power for keeping me away from him.

and letting me be his friend.

while im talking with my therapist, i would like to describe the moment it happened.

i don't think i have to explain what "it" is.

you'll understand.

i almost can't bear to type the words.

just let me tell you the story.

stories are the mold i use to shape my slippery, shapeless, aqueous emotions. without them, i could only look at those emotions, spilled on the street, and think, "oh, a puddle."

huh. moving on.

let's get to that story.

october 2021 feels like another lifetime. i can't say i was happy, or even happier than i am now. but i was definitely more mentally stable. in hindsight, my relapse was creeping up on me, but i refused to consciously acknowledge it. besides, my diet and lifestyle then were so healthy and structured, i felt i had nothing to worry about. i was still getting over some feelings for a (straight) friend, who knew how i felt, and it didn't effect our friendship.

so maybe i needed someone to latch on to.

maybe that is why.

the exact date was wednesday, october 20th. shortly after my 17th birthday, one day before our first show choir concert, and our last chance to rehearse. we ran our dance number, one more time in the performance hall. the dance closed with everyone falling on the floor, "dead". the accompanist hit the final chord, and all twenty three of us waited for a beat before sitting up to face the teacher.

he was right in front of me, facing away. i'd seen him before, i'd seen him plenty of times, in class and in the hall, but we'd never actually talked. but never had i really seen him like i did just then. the teachers words barely registered.

fuck.

not again.

pull it together.

or don't.

he's going to break your heart without a single word.

and you're just going to let him.

i laugh at the me of that moment. if only you knew, rafi, if only you knew.

at least back then, it could be fun, a little crush.

i write this as it approaches, and post this as i have surpassed the five month anniversary of the moment i just described. in middle school, when i tried to internet life hack my way out of undiagnosed autism, i came across an article.

"the first six months, it's only a crush, after that, it's love."

i think that's false for many reasons, as a general statement. but in my case, it's neither. today, or a month from now. all the damn same.

all i can do is wait it out, protect us both from my stupid, wounded heart.

here's a 🧁cupcake if you read the whole thing. calories do not count. as always, stay safe.

[velociraptor-rings]

just waiting out more urges to sabotage my social relationships. i know resisting it won't have any exciting outcome. i won't get a reward, i won't be more liked or feel more liked. the only thing i'll get is a lack of drama, lack of chaos, lack of conflict.

(more diary and shitty metaphors under the cut)

and that doesn't feel like an improvement, it feels like a delay of the inevitable.

letting things work themselves out isn't just scary because it might go badly, it's scary because it might go well, and i don't know how to handle either one.

either way, i'm trying so hard to keep my hands on the wheel without spinning out the second i sense a change of direction. they say insanity is trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results. i say insanity is escaping a bumper to bumper collision by pulling to the wrong side of the road and crashing headfirst.

people aren't machines though, and you can't control anyone's car but your own. all you can do is be a safe driver. that way, even if you get hurt, you know you did everything you could.

cause there will always be assholes who ignore traffic rules. there will be people who pass you on the right, people who are distracted, angry, drunk, going to class high and treating you like you don't exist. the ones who collide on purpose are outliers, and if you look for one behind every wheel you'll be mowed over from your blind spot.

bad shit happens on the road no matter how safe you are. still, people get by every day just by doing their best. a safe drive with your favorite songs playing is never too good to be true.

[velociraptor-rings]

//sh

back from the other end of burning some papers (healthy ish), eating a full dinner (v healthy) and a "multiple bandaids required" episode (iykyk)

the first time i cvt deep enough to make blood trickle down i was so freaked out i put my knife away and tried to stop the bleeding. today i had multiple trickles going on both forearms and my upper thigh and i was just like "oh not this shit again.

wowwww anyways it's my goal to tell my therapist by the end of the school year if i can find a way to do it without getting sent to grippy sock jail.

[velociraptor-rings]

haha still waiting till someone wants to lol

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and knowing they never did.

it’s so painful missing someone who doesn’t give a genuine fuck about you

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i'm so stupid i regret everything i'm not eating for the rest of the day.

the fact that he had a friend tell me instead of telling me himself proves that he doesn't think of me as a friend.

[velociraptor-rings]

the fact that he had a friend tell me instead of telling me himself proves that he doesn't think of me as a friend.

[velociraptor-rings]

//sewer slide

it's kinda fucked that the only thing keeping me from unaliving myself is the knowledge that he'd make the connection and feel guilty.

[velociraptor-rings]

anyone else feel like they’re too fucked up to be loved and cared about?

[velociraptor-rings]

*at the psychiatrists office* yeah you have Fuckface Personality Disorder with some traits of Can't Do Anything Right Syndrome but im going to put you down as a Stupid Sack Of Shit Disease patient for insurance purposes