have you ever suddenly + involuntarily lost consciousness
yes (fainted)
yes (head trauma)
yes (substance-induced)
yes (lack of oxygen)
yes (blood loss)
yes (multiple)
no
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â

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we're not kids anymore.

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@duamuteffe
have you ever suddenly + involuntarily lost consciousness
yes (fainted)
yes (head trauma)
yes (substance-induced)
yes (lack of oxygen)
yes (blood loss)
yes (multiple)
no

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t-rexâs fifth sentence in panel three is my affirmation in the mirror every single morning
This year for pride month I want trans people to be alive. Thank you.
Every day I handle more money than I will ever make. Every day.
At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and itâs not to watch the shoppers. See, we canât actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.
At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didnât exist in my household. Itâs normal now. Here is something that is not for me.
âWhat the hell, Iâll take another,â says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.
The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.
I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. Heâs not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. Heâs not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadnât spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldnât have spent any. I go home. I donât own a watch.
I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.
I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht.Â
Iâm not worth the cost of a watch.
i wrote this while i was working at orlandoâs walt disney world parks.
i was part of their college program. i moved to the state for it. they legally owned the building i was living in and still charged me rent. i ostensibly was being charged to work for them. it was a 2 bedroom apartment and they placed 6 adult women in it in forced triples.
as many as one in ten disney employees have experienced homelessness while working for the company. despite huge efforts to unionize, strike, or otherwise demand fair treatment; disney has refused to increase employee quality of life.
disney admits publicly that a good portion of their success is because the employees (âcast membersâ) are dedicated, passionate, and selfless. this is never reflected in pay. even âfaceâ characters (ie those that are princesses etc) make barely above a minimum wage.
at the time that i worked there, i made $8.50 an hour. at one point i was asked to create a human shield around a bag because a bomb dog had alerted to it. for eight fucking dollars an hour.
i now work a very cushy office job. i have bought the salmon and cooked it all four ways.
i go to the store. i am nice to the person behind the counter. she looks up at the camera while she counts out my change. there is nothing fundamentally different about her and i.
we are both worth more than the watch, anyway.
Honestly, Tvyek is pretty miraculous. Itâs permeable to water vapor but not to water, itâs nearly impossible to tear, but can be easily cut. Itâs cheap and made entirely without binding chemicals. In addition to being used for wristbands, itâs used to wrap construction sites to keep out water during construction, for tear-resistant envelopes at Fed-Ex, coveralls for mechanics, and my wallet, actually.
Fun tip, though it looks like paper, Tyvek is plastic, and cannot be recycled with paper.
holy fuc
I didnât even know it had a name

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Asdfghjkl her perfectly straight face and even tone throughout should win an AWARD
What beef does the house of Atreus have with frogs?
Shout out to my mom who explains my transition as "Having a daughterpillar turn into a Boyterfly". It doesn't erase the fact I was an adorable little girl, and also affirms my gender now. I love my mother.
Fanfiction is cool because you get to learn what other people's parents taught them the hymen is like
I know that I had somewhat unusually comprehensive sex ed but it still surprises me every time I'm reminded that some people genuinely think that losing your virginity is a capri sun kind of situation.

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if you are a parent, or may become one, or you are otherwise likely to arrive in the situation of caring for a child while they eat, promise me this: if a child doesn't like a certain food or food group, you will ask them WHY. and specifically, you will pay attention to either confirming or ruling out "it makes my mouth itch" or "it makes my stomach hurt," both of which are medically important info that children may not provide unprompted. which i know because this PSA has been brought to you by "i spent my entire childhood and much of my early teens eating peas and lentils while wondering why everyone else liked the Violently Itchy Mouth Sensation so much, like were they a bunch of legume masochists or something, before i finally realized that Violently Itchy Mouth Sensation was in fact a sinister demon appearing only to me, and her true demonic name was: Legume Allergy"
Do not let your child suffer from spicy bananas!
Once when I was in undergrad, someone described something as âproblematicâ in class and our professor was like, âThatâs cool, but âproblematicâ doesnât really mean anything. It means that the thing youâre describing has a problem, and in and of itself thatâs not bad. Art, especially, should always have problems, or else itâs not interesting and not art, either. It sounds like youâre trying to say that this is bad, but you donât want to say âbad.â Is that right?â
So from then on whenever one of us called something problematic, he would make us talk it out until we could name the âbadâ thing we were hinting at. In this particular class, 7/10 it was some type of oppression, and the remainder was like, âIâm uncomfortable because this is very new/confusing/pushing boundaries that made me feel safe.â
Once we stopped calling things âproblematicâ and stopping at that, class got way more interesting and... we all had to say, like, âthatâs racistâ or âthatâs misogynisticâ or âew capitalism grossâ out loud, which a lot of us had never done in a classroom before. Or we had to be like, âUhhh... Iâm not sure whatâs so bad?â and confront our own beliefs and that was maybe even more useful.
Anyway. Whenever I see the word problematic, I canât help but think of this professor being like, âGood starting point, now letâs get specific.â I think when we have to commit to saying âthatâs ___â it requires a lot more careful thought about the truth and impact and complexities of whatever weâre claiming. Sometimes there really is some bullshit afoot, and also sometimes itâs art, and it should be full of problems, because thatâs what art is.
#'this is present in the text' is often a good first step #but those second and third ones (naming it; describing its function) are vital (via @elucubrare)
has no one submitted the no parking signs on I-95 just outside of St. Augustine for the 22nd??
Official ominous sign sign sign sign sign sign sign si
The sheer energy. The beauty of this woman. The women hugging in the background. The man in rainbow parachute pants. This whole video is art.
XXI. The World
This is what world peace looks like

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here is the art energy iâm wanting! and why i call my stuff eyecrimes. draw it! post it! enjoy! be freeeeeeeeeee!
And donât let yourself be held back by choice of art medium. Iâve made some damn fine wordcrimes in my time and I will make more. My game design can be occasionally described as a braincrime. I am sure a few of you out there can put up a solid earcrime.
You nosecrime peopleâŚwell, do your own thing, just do it a little bit further away, okay?
After some years of HRT I've been left with this deep, low simmering rage. Because what do you mean it was always this easy to be happy
I take a shot once a week, and even if that was too much, I could do it as pills, and so many of my problems just evaporated overnight.
And not one person thought to bring it up.
When I was talking about how horrifying puberty felt. When I was cutting myself. When I was in inpatient care. When I attempted suicide. When I talked for YEARS in therapy about how dissociated and trapped I felt in my body. When I felt like I never truly fixed something that was deeply wrong about me that started at puberty.
Not one person said it was a possibility. No one thought "hey, maybe this kid should go to someone trained to identify dysphoria". No one mentioned that trans people weren't some weird other group of people. It didn't have to be pressure. It didn't have to be "forcing" me. Just mentioning that trans people exist and it could be me. That it was possible and it was easy. No pushing, just laying the option out there.
HRT is treated like this last ditch option. This horrific, mutilating thing that I GUESS we can give to you if you have NO OTHER options. Because did you know it's permanent? Did you know you'll be on it for the rest of your life? Did you know the health risks? Did you know it'll make you infertile? Did you know that it's deviant? Did you know that it's an alternative lifestyle for other people?
No one said it was okay to WANT it to be permanent. Or noted that most people are reliant on the medical system in one way or the other anyways (and it's not even necessary for HRT). Or that the health risks are the normal parts of having that hormone, even in cis people of your gender. Or said it was okay to not want kids, or mention that you can just freeze gametes. Or acknowledged that the "deviant" people are just people, living their lives, that have been violently pushed out of "normal" society.
I grew up in an area that Republicans mock for being a kind of "woke central". And even then it's just. Not treated as an easy option. It was never on the table if you don't specifically already know you're going through gender stuff, and no one will help you get to that point. At which point, it's still treated like the last ditch option. Did you know you can be a feminine man? Did you know you can slap a "she/her" in your twitter bio and be done with it? Did you know that you're oh-so-valid without it? Did you know that you shouldn't take HRT? Maybe don't take HRT? Don't take HRT? Don't take HRT? Don't ta-
When you've been in it a while, HRT is the easiest, most casual thing in the world. Just pop a shot on a Saturday as part of your "everything shower" routine and you're done.
Anyways. Support trans kids always and forever.
And if anyone comes swinging in here with "but Sierra you don't have to take HRT to be trans this is toxic" I'm going to fucking scream, because that is the status quo. "Just do this without doing this" has become a "give them an inch" refrain when making ourselves "acceptable" to the cis. Of COURSE you don't need to take HRT. I'm only reminded of it a dozen times a day.