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inside rfk is two wolves, the horsehair worm leading him to water and rabies fighting to keep him from drinking it.

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NOOOOO THE POPE DIED

SCREAMING CRYING BEGGING GOD FOR ANOTHRR WAY

He died at 5:35 GMT April 21st at the Vatican with double pneumonia of a stroke

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I said the internet is not of God

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how it feels to spam my mutuals

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Join the NPD tumblr community

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Take two, Dana Wyse

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Minyoung Kim (Korean, born 1989) Sudden Salami, 2023

Acylic on canvas 39 2/5 x 39 2/5 in (100 x 100 cm)

Private collection

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"Empathy is what makes us human" Dawg you caught me I'm secretly a platypus

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had contractors come by and forgot i was wearing this shirt

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i played with that medical training app a little bit

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theyre unlocking new types of guy over on reddit apparently

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KILL DIE THE VIOLENCE GUY

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So imagine that you’re on a beach hanging with your brother and saving the world like always then suddenly there’s another version of you— and he just came out of nowhere and you live in a world filled with dangerous magical creatures so of course this must be some kind of shapeshifter trying to get the better of you. Of course, you attack it and he attacks you and both of you keep claiming to be the real version of you. Classic.

So you laugh it off and you ask your brother for help except he keeps saying that the other you is the real one. And the two of them are ganging up and attacking you so you have no choice but to turn around and go back home until this blows over cause let’s face it, your brother isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and hasn’t always been the best judge of character on your adventures.

So you go home and everything’s just as you left it and it’s a bit of a relief honestly cause the incident on the beach freaked you out. Except your little sibling won’t stop screaming every time they see you. And you can’t taste your favorite foods. And your voice sounds different. And your sense of touch is off. Plus there was a period where you couldn’t hear or speak well on the beach, and all this is starting to accumulate and scare you. And you’re a kid.

So you freak out. You break furniture and you throw around your brother’s good breakfast syrup (cause you’re still angry about him turning against you) and when your brother comes home with the other version of you, still insisting that you’re the monster (which can’t possibly be true. It can’t.) you won’t look him in the eye no matter how angry he gets. But the other you is chill and wants to be your friend or something, which is fine but would be better if he would just give you your bed and your pajamas and your brother back.

So time passes and you begin to accept that you really are the monster after all, because you can’t really deny the fact that you don’t look quite the same. And that you don’t have a digestive tract. And that murder just seems a little more okay than it used to.

So you call yourself by a different name. But it’s still not fair, because before the beach you had a brother and a home and favorite foods and now you don’t have anything. Your brother is more chill now but he’s clearly uncomfortable with you and your little sibling is still scared of you and everybody you’re ever known thinks you’re a stranger. Meanwhile the other you is celebrated as a hero. He’s receiving the love you used to receive and on top of that he’s just better than you at everything. Which is unfair because he is you! And a part of you can’t really let go of the doubt— that maybe you’re the hero and he’s the monster. That maybe he doesn’t deserve all the things he’s taken from you.

So when he lovingly calls you his twin brother, you don’t know how to respond because he’s really a good guy (because YOU’RE a good guy!), and he has your face but you can’t help but hate him deeply, down to the dark depths within you. Those depths tell you to do many many things you would never have done before.

So you trick your other self and seal him in a tomb which feels so so good because you’ve finally gotten the better of him. And you tell him you’ll be back (but you won’t) and you change your voice and your skin so you look even more like him (more like you, this is you) and you start going back home so your brother will FINALLY give you a hug. But he escapes (and isn’t that infuriating cause he really did get the best of you after all) and, worst of all, he kills you. It doesn’t matter that it was an accident. It doesn’t matter that you were going to put your hands around his throat and squeeze and squeeze until he gave everything back. He grinds you to shreds like you were nothing.

So when you’re given a second chance— when a madman revives you and makes you a living weapon, you decide to let the world go to shit. So long as you’re better than your other self, so long as you’re strong enough to make him hurt, really hurt, nothing else matters. You look at him trying to save the world over and over (his voice has changed, he’s grown taller) and you ignore the pain of watching this better version of you who still believes all the things you used to believe before the stupid beach. Your other self tells you he shares the same torment, that you’re two sides of the same coin, but that’s not right because then why does he have everything you want? Why are you the only one who’s so achingly lonely?

And then. He gently walks with you down to your dark depths. And he helps you kill your demon. And you’re you again, finally, all that rage and desire stripped away, and you see that ah, you two really are the same after all. That there never was any monster (except for the demon) and there never was a hero either, you’re both only human. Then you die again. And when your other self cries over you, as you disappear for good, the only thing you ask him is to take you home. You haven’t been back in such a long time.

Anyways if you can imagine all that, then congrats, you know how it feels like to be Fern Adventuretime.

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Saw a post a bit ago that was like "Is it just me or is like every intersex blogger really angry all the time, who pissed in your cereal bro?"

Wow I fucking wonder why we're pissed off. Really. No idea. I wonder if it has to do with having to deal with

Being systematically mutilated legally

If you weren't mutilated, almost nobody has a body like yours

You can't research how your sex organs & hormones function without seeing baby surgery gore and reports of how everybody like you was "fixed"

Having the US president declare us nonexistent

Being told we're freaks all our life and we need fixing

Have a long history of being killed at birth

Slurs for you literally fucking everywhere including in a scientific context and if you point it out people call you dramatic

More slurs for you if you ever dare to try to look at adult material

Any and all fiction that is listed as intersex is all stereotypes and obvious fetish material for perisex people - There is almost no representation.

Whenever you hear about people like you they're referred to as having a sex disorder, never being intersex

People who support the entire framework of your excising and mutilation go in your comments to concern troll about how they don't actually support that

Having almost no research done into our oppression — so there is a lack of statistics about systemic intersex assault/rape/murder — people use this to tell you it isn't happening (despite nearly every intersex person you've met has reported being victimized in some way)

Strangers online think they are entitled to your full medical history

A significant number of people online think you are a porn trope and are shocked to find out tou exist in real life

Your gender identity is erased and ignored because it doesn't make sense to perisex people

You are reduced to a discourse topic

Being considered "rare" (because we are actively being suppressed with violence) — people use that "rarity" to say you don't matter

People thinking its acceptable to sexually harass you and ask you about your genitals just because they find out you're intersex

Getting told that you're exaggerating when you say your group has been the victim of a successful extermination campaign — & that is why we are so invisible

Everyone ignores all of this ^ and tells you that someone else has it worse than you so you should shut up if you ever decide to speak up.

Wow. I wonder.

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hey so it’s march now aka the beginning of endometriosis awareness month and i feel obligated to remind you that debilitatingly painful periods are not normal. if you or someone you know is ending up sick or bedridden every month, you are not crazy and deserve medical attention from someone who will take you seriously