#help me please someone help me

[hotchs-big-hands]

I- this picture is so 🫣

Hand on your head, guiding you back and forth

[stoopidstapler]

SO IVE BEEN GOIN INSANE SINCE THIS TRAILER DROPPED. JUST. SIMON. SIMON. SIMON.

[lucidloving]

@inanotherunivrse // You're On Your Own, Kid— Taylor Swift // @inkskinned // Richard Siken, Crush // @lilcowgirl7-deactivated20210223 // Heather Havrilesky, How to Be a Person in the World // Zoe Heller, "Everything You Know" // Atticus

[ivynotpoisonous]

Bears are so right about hibernation

[swamp-chicken]

listening to docs stream. the topics have gone

etho on onlyfans would get so much money just showing his desk set up -> no etho would never do onlyfans he's too pure -> which hermits would you like to see do onlyfans? -> anyone who said gem is now banned -> you guys are all perverts and freaks -> this is why you write fanfiction -> no i've never read fanfiction -> ren is hot -> i would like to cuddle ren

[tsukii0002]

Lucifer: That is not how things work Mc...

Mc: Why not??!!

Lucifer: *sighs* I'm not going to consume your soul for something like this...

Mc: But demons always accept anything in exchange for a soul!!!

Lucifer: At this point Mc? You know us, we don't do those things... How desperate you are?

Mc: Please Luci!!! *almost crying* Let me make a deal with the devil (you).

Lucifer: For the last time Mc, I will not accept your soul in exchange for doing your thesis.

Mc: Luciiiii pleaseeeeee!!!!

.

.

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[crismakesstuff]

cast out of paradise

[scribbsyscribs]

Angel: Well heya, Hot Stuff. What's poppin'?

Husk: My joints.

Angel: Oh.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Don't Wormy About Me.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[404leafclover]

my favorite part of the finale was when they kissed

[momentomori24]

THEY ARE SO INSUFFERABLE AND HORRIFIC AND AWFUL BUT SO AMAZING AND DORKY AND THIS PART IS SO UNFAIRLY FUNNY AND CUTE AND WHOLESOME-- PLEASE, PLEASE HAVE MORE SCREENTIME IN S2. PLEASE LET THEM TAKE OVER THE SHOW. I KNOW THEY'RE HORRIBLE PEOPLE BUT I NEED MORE OF THE VEES.

And the most important scene of them all (to me):

First of all, how is Vox doing that. Second, you just know that these two douchebags are going to bang so hard with Alastor getting his ass kicked replaying in the background after this. I hate them so much.

[inafever]

[willgrahamscock]

So turns out, if you eat moldy bread and take expired medication you do end up developing severe intestinal issues! It’s not the update I wanted to give, but it turns out I am not invincible and in fact, I am incredibly unwell. Stay tuned.

[dantesmelancholicshitpost]

I was just now debating who should receive my therapy bills for the kiss scene in ep6...

Ofc there is David Tennant, full of desperation, grasping at straws. We cannot see his eyes, but we know damn well that they are watery and full of fear and awareness that this may be his last chance.

But then there is Michael Sheen whose conflicted attitude already prompted me to write a (not so) short analysis in my notes. Aziraphale whose yearning and longing for Crowley is so palpable, whose hands look for some sort of contact and embrace, whose pain we can see so clearly when he pushes Crowley away and whose entire body language is just filled with dilemmas, with antonyms, whose internal conflict is so tangible.

And then there is Neil, the mastermind. The one who is there pulling the strings. The one who made this scene a parallel of the scene from s1 where Crowley pushes Aziraphale to the wall, saying "I'm not nice", but this time he just wants him to understand, that Aziraphale is nice, more than nice, moreover that Crowley MAY BE nice, but they are just not fit for Heaven, they belong only in eachother. And the hurt after Aziraphale doesn't accept this unspoken but so clearly communicated argument...

In conclusion, they should just split it

[inkskinned]

in recent years, there's been a push in therapeutic circles to shift the language from "attention-seeking" to "connection-seeking" behavior.

i was an attention-seeker. i was the textbook example of an attention-seeker. i was a troublemaker. i would self-harm. i destroyed my own relationships. i was uncontrolled, dramatic, sensitive. i took everything personally. i had "nothing" to be depressed "about," but made a big show of how sad i was nonetheless. i was really unsafe about myself in a lot of ways.

the strange thing about that is: it meant others could ignore me. the prevailing wisdom behind knowing something is "attention seeking" is to say: well, since you want it that bad, you're not getting any. it meant i was lower-on-the-list of concern. it meant an eye-roll.

the belief was that: since i was obviously doing these things on purpose, it would be bad behavioral training if i was "rewarded" for it. it would "teach me" that i simply had to make enough fuss, and i'd finally get all that missing attention and love. no, it was better to ignore that stuff.

i was suffering. and it felt like - oh, it doesn't matter how loudly i am in pain, nobody gives a shit about if i'm living or dying.

awhile ago, i went through my journals from that time. a lot of them read the same thing. in them, i am convinced i am invisible. that nobody wants to hear me, to see me. that i could die or vanish and nobody would even notice. i didn't even want attention - not really - because it was always dismissive, mocking. nothing i ever did would be good enough to get someone to actually-worry about me.

that's a terrifying thing for me to read as an adult. that is a child who fully has no problem committing. that is a child who has no concept of feeling loved. the most basic human instinct is missing from her life.

i needed help. i didn't know how to ask for it. i was a kid. i was a kid in a bad home, and whenever i thought things couldn't get worse there - they almost always did.

and the ways i showed that - the ways i tried to deal with that - they made others dismiss me. i wasn't suffering prettily. after all, if i was really in trouble, why wouldn't i just march into the first counselor's office and ask someone to help me? i had the opportunities, right? what did i think would happen, exactly? that someone would finally stand up and do something? who even wants that kind of responsibility?

i heard connection-seeking for the first time about three months ago. my therapist mentioned it when we were talking about my history. it rang some kind of horrible bell, deep inside me. i don't know what she said in the rest of her sentence. i just started... crying.

"oh no", i said to her. "i think i just realized: i have no idea how to forgive them for minimizing the ways i was hurting."

how many other kids, though. how many other kids were out there drowning, snatching around for a lifevest, some kind of rope - how many were straight-up ignored.

how many of those kids aren't gonna get old.