entlise - Tumblr blog

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2006

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i am soooo tired of seeing skinny people i am so over it its so everywhere and everything on tiktok on ads on book covers in movies in tv shows, politics, fucking music even. its endless, infinite, exhausting. isn't there something more than this? this can't be it. like how did i end up in a version of the world where a fat woman being a romantic lead in a mid period drama on Netflix is a win? and how is she still basically the only fat person on that show? how are there films and tv shows praised for diversity that don't have a single fat person in the cast?? how how how HOW. the majority of people in the world aren't even skinny. most people in the world aren't thin white people! its crazy its so fucking insane how colonialism, ableism and racism has created a phantasm in which we all accept that pretending fat people don't exist and punishing them when they do is normal and fine. like, imagining a world where fatphobia doesn't exist is actually unimaginable and painful and i truly can't think about it too much without tearing the hair off my entire body

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In 1970, my mother's family adopted an intellectually disabled man named Horace. Horace was 56, and had been in an institution since 1921.

My uncle, who was 19, was working as an orderly at the institution where Horace lived. He only stayed a few months as the abuse he witnessed was too much for him. He had become friends with Horace and told him "I'll come back for you."

Horace replied "They all say that."

By that Christmas, Horace lived with my uncle and his family. My grandparents did the official adoption. Horace had never seen a Christmas tree, and that was his first real Christmas.

Horace died in 2010, at the age of 96. He laid down for a nap and just slipped away.

At least two generations of children grew up with him. He felt immortal to us. He loved Hot Wheels, pizza, cartoons and to talk to the portrait of my grandparents as he sat in his rocking chair.

He knew everyone's birthday. He loved unconditionally.

He had scars on his back from the institutions. If you asked him about that place, his face would screw up and he'd say "oh, it was a bad place. Bad place."

And for 40 years, he was safe, loved, and happy. He loved us in return.

No point to sharing this. But I still miss his laugh as he held a conversation with a portrait, whispering about his day to the people who had helped rescue him.

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i take being a girl gentleman very seriously never forget that

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double trouble

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conversation i had with my bf on the transformative effects of music

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worrying is like worshipping the problem

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noopy btw. you care

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girl what's wrong? are you experiencing the sylvia plath fig tree in your head again?

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google is it too late? google can i still be saved? google will i be okay?

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thinking about how i got excited at small sparrows while walking downtown and he immediately slowed down so he wouldnt scare them off before i was done looking at them

thinking about how i was so happy once that he opened the car door for me and now does it consistently

thinking about how after only 2 months of us seeing each other, he let me drive his car in a parking lot to practice for my driving test. after which he told me that i was only the 2nd person he has let drive his car

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