Spins the Smoke

The Library Is a Magical Place and You Should Fucking Go There

Certified Library Post

It’s almost Halloween! Time to reblog the kitty 🐈‍⬛

the man who owns and runs the thai restaurant in my town knows me by name. he is one of the kindest and most thoughtful men i know. i started ordering from his place back in january, which was when i got my fibromyalgia diagnosis. back then i was using a walker, had limited mobility in my entire body but especially my hands, and was very visibly in pain. i always ordered the same thing: yellow curry with no meat, potatoes and carrots only (i have texture and other dietary issues). he always made it a point to make sure i could get out the door and carry the food safely. he had his workers package the food so that it was easier for me to open. as i kept coming back and i told him a little bit about my health status, he would always encourage me to keep going. he told me about how the spices he used were good for inflammation and began to edit the recipe just for me so that spices that were even better for fighting inflammation were used. he’d give me extra portions and despite the fact that i would tip every time, i realized later that he never charged my card for them. as time went on and my condition began to get better, he would make encouraging remarks and tell me how happy he was for me. the day i came in without my walker, he practically jumped for joy, and despite my insistence, he gave me my meal for free that day. i continue to make progress with my conditions and i continue to go to the thai place. this man who does not know me personally and who i hardly know anything about is one of my favorite people. it’s interactions with humans like these that make loving life easier. and his curry really does help my chronic condition. it’s comfort food taken to the next level.

i am shrunken down and brought to the gnome world and when i attempt to assimilate to their culture I use an acorn cap as a hat and they all laugh cheerfully at my silly mistake of wearing what they use as a bowl like a cap and though this is a transgression that would have humiliated me in my human life I am instead laughing alongside them at my humorous misunderstanding

they ask me what I would like to eat and knowing that gnomes enjoy fruit i ask for my favorite fruit, an apple, and they all laugh raucously and say that i must be very hungry indeed to desire an entire apple rather than just a small chunk, and i go along with their joke and say that while my body may have shrank my stomach has not! and they all guffaw with delight until their faces turn red and see that my request is met and we all sit around a toadstool and share many apple slices together

over my time spent with the gnomes, my antics are still regarded with much delight. though i am past the age in which i am confused by their customs and norms, i occasionally pretend to be clueless about simple and easily understood things, such as shock at how toads are as tall as I am. they all continue to laugh at my feigned surprise, and sometimes join in, asking me if I need any help distinguishing what berries are for eating and which are for painting. i laugh, too. there is a sense of grace that comes with my shortcomings amongst the gnomes. they are entertained by my misunderstandings, yes, because life is to short to not be jolly.