tankerfishthesimp

[tankerfishthesimp]

I took my little brother (autistic, mostly non verbal) out and he was using his voice keyboard to tell me something, and this little boy (maybe 4 or 5?) heard him and asked me "Is he a robot??" I tried to explain to him that no, he isn't a robot, he just communicates differently, but my darling brother was in the background max volume "I am robot I am robot I am robot I am robot"

[tankerfishthesimp]

"How can you hate loud noises yet have your headphones on a high volume?"

Because I can control the volume of my headphones and choose what I want to listen to, but I cannot control the volume of external noises nor choose to just turn them off

[tankerfishthesimp]

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I fell asleep in my friends' arms. It was eleven at night, we were tired, curled up in a small pile on my tiny bed. I had my head buried in my roommate's side, and one of my closest friend's hand on my shoulder, steadying me. It was quiet and nothingness and peace and their heartbeats in my ears, my hands in their hair.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

We pack four people to that little bed, you know. Laps used as footrests, collarbones as pillows, little lights like moonlight in rustic yellow bathed on their faces. The TV plays an anime. The words are repeated by my dear friend on my shoulder, curled close. My legs are asleep; my roommate may be, too.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

The cat curls on top of our criss cross mess of legs and arms and heads on chests to absorb the warmth of us all. She purrs in contented peace. When my roommate and I are left alone in the quiet, she cries, and watches the door for our friends' return.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I will never kiss them but the top of their heads. I will never touch but the warmth of their arms. I will never take more than what's freely given, and in return I put my glasses on the bedside table fashioned from a guitar amp, and when I lean into their sides, I pick up my vulnerability and place it in their capable, tender hands.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I sing for them. I cry for them. I work and I run and I withstand the worst of the world for them, because some days I get to cradle their forehead on my shoulder and some days I get to see their shining eyes.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Maybe to you. But look beyond explanation. I love them. With my heart in my unsteady hands, with my nose pressed to the side of their head, with the buzzing in my feet and the warmth all around Iike the sunset pushing into the window.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Is it enough to say I love them? With no strings attached? With reckless abandon and utter devotion and freedom and kindness and fear?

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I cannot explain it any clearer. I love my friends. There is no more to say.

[tankerfishthesimp]

Watercolour shrooms!

(botw)

[tankerfishthesimp]

Who needs a partner when you can live in your best friend and her partner’s basement forever

[tankerfishthesimp]

[tankerfishthesimp]

cried so hard i now have triple eyelids

[tankerfishthesimp]

Keep the flame going for those we have lost to suicide. 

[tankerfishthesimp]

[tankerfishthesimp]

why revise for an exam if you can cry for three hours and have a nightmare then fail it

[tankerfishthesimp]

i’m so tired can i sleep for the next three months

[tankerfishthesimp]

fucking hate it when the stuff everybody says "actually works" does actually work.

hate exercising and realizing i've let go of a lot of anxiety and anger because i've overturned my fight-or-flight response.

hate eating right and eating enough and eating 3 times a day and realizing i'm less anxious and i have more energy

hate journaling in my stupid notebook with my stupid bic ballpoint and realizing that i've actually started healing about something once i'm able to externalize it

hate forgiving myself hate complimenting myself more often hate treating myself with kindness hate taking a gratitude inventory hate having patience hate talking to myself gently

hate turning my little face up to the sun and taking deep breaths and looking at nature and grounding myself and realizing that i feel less burdened and more hopeful, more actually-here, that i am able to see the good sides of myself more clearly, that i am able to see not only how far i have to grow - but also how much growth i have already done & how much of my life i truly fill with light and laughter and love

horrible horrible horrible. hate it but i'm gonna do it tho

[tankerfishthesimp]

You know that Ada Limón poem where she’s like “i can’t help it i love the way men love”? my dad recently confessed to me that he became a shoemaker because they buried my grandma shoeless

oh…………………………………

[tankerfishthesimp]

something that drives me insane on a relatively regular basis as a body jewelry understander is talking to people who have sensitive skin who are like "oh well I just can't wear any earrings without my ears getting inflamed" and I say "well what have you tried" and they say "well I've tried sterling silver and I've tried gold..." and it's like. ok. I don't know how gold and sterling somehow got spun by the jewelry industry as being especially good for sensitive skin but whenever I'm like "well have you tried implant grade titanium" they're always like "no....... but I've tried sterling silver... and it didn't work ..." like. I don't know how this narrative about sterling silver somehow got so strong but when they put pins in your fucking legs when you snap your leg in half are those pins made of sterling silver or are they made of implant grade titanium or surgical steel????????? HELLO. HI. YOU MIGHT BENEFIT FROM TRYING IMPLANT GRADE TITANIUM I AM JUST SAYING

[tankerfishthesimp]

Collection

[tankerfishthesimp]

yeah i am spiralling

[tankerfishthesimp]

yeah i am spiralling