Sunny Skies, Sunfish Flies

Fuck personality tests. Who comes to your mind when I say “Michael”

i’m so glad goncharov happened pre ai slop era

#weird way to describe 1973 but i guess it’s accurate

Reblog to give a trans person a shockingly high resolution mango

now THIS is the spirit of Halloween

"You know what's harder than Getting Better? Living Like That" is just the thesis for my whole shit going on right now honestly. You know what's harder than doing my physical therapy? Hurting All The Time. You know what's harder than addressing my gender dysphoria? Hurting All The Time

I'm Doing The Hard Thing and it's *easier* than how I was living before. If you make yourself feel better you will have more energy to spend on Getting Better. Nice inch nails - the upward spiral. Crawl out of your grave Thursday

quarterly reminder that if i reblog something ai-generated it is 110% and always an accident and for the love of god please tell me so i can delete it from my blog

ok every time this post comes by i resist geeking out on it but NO LONGER so these women are probably the same woman and that woman is monet’s wife camille doncieux. he painted her a LOT. but fun fact: monet had this asshole friend named ernest hochede, and ernest racked up some debts, and like an asshole he basically just fled the country, leaving his wife alice and their six kiddos behind. monet immediately got alice and kids to move in with him, camille, and their two kids. at this point, monet, alice, and camille became my favorite probably historic poly threesome. they lived together, taking care of the kids. they were so poor that alice and camille took turns wearing the nice dress so they could go out with monet. when camille got uterine cancer and began dying, alice helped monet cope and took care of things while he painted camille over and over. when camille died, alice is the reason monet was able to survive. when ernest finally died, monet and alice married, and remained married until alice died. at that point, blanche, the oldest daughter, took care of monet until he died. anyway, the point is, the umbrella ladies are probably the same ladies, but as far as i’m concerned, there WAS a historically queer poly family in that household and they were wonderful.

this is a fucking joy

it is past time we jettisoned the useless false dichotomy of introversion vs. extroversion and just accepted that everybody has a minimum amount of social interaction, failing which, they get really weird. and everybody has a maximum amount of social interaction, exceeding which, they get really weird. these levels are different for everyone, for a variety of reasons, and have no moral dimension. and that is all.

why would you come to this club and just shoot Myers & Briggs like this

IMO, it’s healthier to conceptualize it this way. So instead of being like “why am I being so weird? I’m an introvert, I like being alone!” you say, “Ah, I must be supergluing googly eyes to my bathroom faucet because I haven’t met my minimum threshold of social interaction and I’m trying to fill that void with these tiny pieces of plastic. Maybe I should invite someone over for dinner. They sure will be surprised by all these eyes watching them while they poop.”

unfortunately very true. Doing Better does not always mean never being upset or never being triggered or never having trouble. often Doing Better means experiencing those things and being able to keep going/cope healthily/move on. if you’re in a bubble with no sensation, if you’re numbing yourself out, that’s not what recovering really is. it won’t help you have a happier life it’ll just make your world smaller and smaller until you can’t fit anywhere anymore. gotta learn to make peace with the hard stuff too, that’s the only way to keep going

You just hate me because the patterns on my clothes move around like they do on chowder and yours don’t