whimsical martini

obsessed with the idea of angels seeing the first human death. 

angels see a human die for the first time and be like “thats wild lmao wyd after this?”

I am reminded of a film about a young man who comes upon a rat in the streets of Paris. This rat is special; he has been gifted with a talent for the culinary arts. He transcends his station as vermin. Yet he is cursed to live a half life, his greatest talent confined to the kitchen in which he will never be welcome. Yet he strives to live; he conducts himself through the young man, concealed within the chef’s toque. The man becomes marionette to the rat - yet the rat himself is puppet to the whims of his own ability, unable to find significance in the simplicity of his species’ station. In the end, it is only the food which escapes the cruel influence of obligation. It is constituted not by what it must do, but only by what it has always been. Tell me, Will, are you the rat? The young man, controlled? Or are you, perhaps… the food?

Not diagnosing a child doesn't mean they won't notice they're different. It just means that instead of thinking "I'm struggling because I have autism/adhd/anxiety/depression/schizophrenia", they will just conclude that they are struggling because they are stupid, weak, annoying, unlovable, etc.

hi just wondering if i were an otter and you were an otter and we were sleeping would you hold my paw so we wouldn't drift away from each other. just wondering