i dont wanna wake you

nobody ever talks about how selfless it is to choose, over and over again, to not commit suicide. nobody ever acknowledges the tremendous sacrifice suicidal people make every time we choose not to kill ourselves. when a person who is suffering so horribly that death seems like their best option decides not to take their one way out, and to instead remain in hell, day after day, year after year, because they don’t want to hurt the people they love, they are doing something extraordinary. not killing yourself when it’s all you want to do is the purest act of love i can imagine. dying for someone is easy – you don’t have to deal with any of the consequences, you have your moment of nobility and then it’s all over. but living for someone, when the simple fact of consciousness is literal torture for you? every single suicidal person who ever made a choice to not kill themselves in a moment of misery is a goddamn hero in my eyes. wanting to die and still surviving is an act of titanic courage and self-sacrifice. we deserve more credit for it.

having institutional access never stops feeling sort of crazy to me because you can literally type in any country and time period and find at least a handful of peer reviewed articles somewhere that discuss a specific aspect of people's lives in depth and at length like "what was considered pop culture in late imperial russia" or "how did the textile trade work in northern mali in the 1600s" or "children's toys in pre-colonial philippines" and it's just sitting there but the majority of people on planet earth aren't allowed to read any of it

somebody reblogged this and said something to the effect of "even if they had access they wouldn't read it because most people watch fox news and love conspiracy theories" and you should probably know that most people on planet earth are not republicans from the united states

wish there was an easy and normal way to say “I’m not as sane as you probably assume i am, and when you can see it, will you still try to love me?”

just in case this spreads: i literally mean “not sane” here. I’m not joking about how goofy i am. I mean i have behaviors and symptoms and histories that most people don’t- and ones that have been considered insane. Will you still love me when i tell you I hear things sometimes? Will you still love me when you know I’ve attempted suicide multiple times? Will you still love me when I obsess over things and break down often and can’t promise you i can always be happy?

Being able to draw older people as attractive without reducing or erasing the visual signs of aging, and in fact showing that they're attractive because of those signs, is an artistic skill that should be valued so much more. Honestly, it should earn you an immediate fortune because holy fuck is it a rare commodity. There are so many artists who seem to think attractiveness and aging exist in opposition to each other, so they smooth every wrinkle, erase every crease, and de-age the character until they're basically thirty with silver hair. But when an artist can look at crow's feet, smile lines, weathered skin, deep-set wrinkles, and all the little traces of a life well lived and say, "No, that's what makes them beautiful," that's a level of artistic observation and care I wish we celebrated more often.

i love you archival work. i love you alphabetizing. i love you sorting. i love you reshelving. i love you document restoration. i love you shelf reading. i love you inventorying. i love you analysis. i love you archival work.

Oh God Oh God Oh God The doctor told me words that broke my heart: "If your wife does not receive urgent treatment, we may lose her." She urgently needs two units of blood and treatment that cannot be delayed. Every minute that passes while I stand helpless beside her feels heavier than the one before. Save my wife. Save the mother of my daughters. I stood beside her hospital bed feeling like the ground had disappeared beneath me. I cannot bear the thought of my daughters losing their mother, or losing the woman I love because I could not provide the treatment she needs. At the moment my wife needs help the most, I cannot access the funds from our previous fundraiser, so we were forced to create a new campaign. I am begging you as a husband who is terrified of losing his wife... Please help us before it is too late. Donate or share our Chuffed campaign:

"biblically accurate" is such a pet peeve of mine like it means nothing and don't remind me the bible exists thanks

"none of these words are in the bible" I do not care what is in the bible you're scaring me

I see people outing their shitty companies they worked at in the reblogs and I just want to say KEEP DOING IT

the thing about being bullied for being weird as a kid is that even if you've always embraced being weird your brain is still always looking for the line where it's too much. you can be as proudly and intentionally weird as you want and you can love being weird but your mind is still convinced there's a point where you get too weird and people start treating you like a weird looking bug again. also it feels like you reach that point 500 times a day even if everyone you've spoken to today found you pleasant and likable and even if you're completely alone in your house with nobody looking at you at all.

job interviewer: would you be willing to destroy and betray yourself for nothing?

job interviewer: (reading the room) would you be willing to destroy and betray yourself for a pizza party?