Lumine and Aether from Genshin Impact are both nonverbal autistics you cannot change my mind because I am right
this blog:
primarily for me practicing expressing myself through posts.
probably medi support needs s whatever.
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Lumine and Aether from Genshin Impact are both nonverbal autistics you cannot change my mind because I am right
this blog:
primarily for me practicing expressing myself through posts.
probably medi support needs s whatever.

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[EXTREMELY HAUNTED & HOLLOW-EYED LOOK] yeah man i’m doing. Really good
when i was a tiny baby queer (aka a 24-year-old), i went to my first pride festival probably three months after i kicked ex-gay therapy to the curb and came out to my parents. being the people they are, my parents came with me. they weren’t really sure about this whole gay thing, but they loved me and wanted me to be safe and happy and wanted to be involved in what was important to me, so they came along. (i also think my mother still might have thought i might get drugged or murdered or beaten by a protester of which there were plenty.)
anyway i wanted a memento of my first pride, you know, and this one vendor was selling keyrings, and i liked it, so i bought one. do you remember those italian charm bracelets that were all the rage like 10-15 years ago? it was a keychain like that, and it had a rainbow rooster, a rainbow cat, and then just a rainbow, and so I bought it.
i run into my mom a couple of vendors over and she goes oh you bought something? what’d you get? so i showed her, and i was like, “I’m not sure why it’s a rooster and a cat. Seems kind of random. But I liked the rainbows.”
and my mom, who was some form of minister’s wife for most of my childhood and teenagerhood, stares at me like she thinks i’m joking.
“What?” i say.
“…it’s a cock and a pussy, Jules,” she says flatly, and that is the story of how i died at the age of 24 while attending my first pride festival.
I love how every June this one gets dug up and passed around again, lmao.
oh no is this what we’re doing now
…relic…
*crumbles and blows away on the wind*
[Image IDs: Image #1: Tumblr tag from rogue-thirteen reading: happy it’s a cock and a pussy jules month
Image #2: Tumblr tag from laggingBehindReality reading: a relic, iconic post /End IDs]
HUH?
Most cop thing I've ever read. what the fuck are you talking about. The posts you're looking for might be on this website but we won't show them to you???
I'm sure all my settings are set to "yes show me mature content no don't filter anything" what are you TALKING ABOUT
the posts are ON THE WEBSITE. I can't search dirty words?? am I five??? is this club penguin??? when I get you
really don't enjoy the genre of post that's like "it's hard to accept that being physically disabled just inherently means never being able to do any of the activities you want to do or achieve any of your dreams and spending your entire life suffering. but that's how it is and that's okay 💕" like have you guys considered the possibility you are depressed
more thoughts on this... i've noticed these posts are often made by people newly struggling with chronic pain conditions and are often also struggling with the diagnostic process. and like i get it. pain makes you angry and bitter and terrified and makes everything feel like it'll last forever. and if doctors are telling you they can't find the answer or there's nothing wrong with you it can be easy to feel like this is your new reality. maybe posts like that provide some sense of control or comfort. but in saying this is just the inherent experience of being disabled you are 1. excluding a huge part of your community whose disabilities are a different way of experiencing the world and do not involve chronic pain (blindness, d/Deafness, limb difference), 2. telling those who've lived with high needs or chronic pain their entire lives, and in that time have learnt to live around it, that they're doomed to a life of misery, and 3. enforcing a horrible narrative upon others with a similar experience of new chronic pain and diagnostic frustration - that it doesn't get better, that their symptoms will always run their life and that they'd be better off just accepting that. if you're frustrated and want to vent then do your thing, but calling it "positivity" is so so harmful. people with all manner of disabilities lead fulfilling lives and achieve what they want to achieve. if you don't feel like that's possible for you then that's not "okay 💕". fucking fight for it

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im just so happy i live in a time period where actual meaningful biological transition is possible. even if we lose rights or the ability to exist in public, nothing can turn back the clock on that, and just by having any sort of access to that our lives are made immensely better. millions of our sisters throughout history would never have dreamed of a day where they could have what HRT does for us.
please don't lose the plot of this. if you're a trans person on HRT you're a living miracle, the dream of hundreds of millions of your ancestors. your lives are all deeply meaningful no matter what anyone says.
A prayer by Kalonymus b. Kalonymus ben Meir that appears in his poem ספר אבן בוחן, יג Sefer Even Boḥan (§13), describing the author's wish t
Cursed be the one who announced to my father: “It’s a boy!"... ...How could he twist the course of the stars so much? How could he have erred so in his astrology? A lying tongue, a fool’s mouth it had given him For he foolishly transformed justice to poison He altered the law and transposed the lines
Oh, but had the artisan who made me created me instead – a worthy woman... ...I would say "how lucky am I"
Father in heaven who did miracles for our ancestors with fire and water... ...Who would then transform me from a man to woman? Were I only to have merited this being so graced by goodness...
What shall I say? why cry or be bitter? If my father in heaven has decreed upon me and has maimed me with an immutable deformity then I do not wish to remove it. the sorrow of the impossible is a human pain that nothing will cure and for which no comfort can be found. So, I will bear and suffer until I die and wither in the ground. Since I have learned from our tradition that we bless both, the good and the bitter I will bless in a voice hushed and weak: blessed are you [HaShem] who has not made me a woman.
I think I'm gonna go lay down for a little while.
Some small additional context - the final line is part of a longer set of prayers that are variations on 'blessed are you who has ___" and men use that line when praying, I forget what women use in substitition. But it would have been a line this rabbi would have recited over and over again, possibly daily....and had a lot to think about from it.
are you sensitive to the heat? heatwave tips ahead from your resident bedbound blogger. obviously drink water and get fresh air yadda yadda we already know that. but ALSO:
wear light colours, they basically bounce light n heat away whereas dark clothes absorb heat. also wear looser clothes
apply cold packs on the back of the neck, wrists, and ur stomach which is where your biggest artery is. if you cool the blood you cool the body
try positions where each limb is in minimal contact with other limbs if that makes sense. think starfish, open palms, spacious. you want to minmise the amount of skin touching other skin. ur own body tends to warm itself up whether you want it to or not
check more frequently for pressure sores if youre a wheelchair user, couchbound, or bedbound. sweat is a risk factor for pressure injuries
eat foods with high water content
splash water on the back of the neck and wrists
if the air temperature is above 35c /95f then a fan will NOT help you. try other cooling measures
if it’s humid like if you’re in the uk like me then try a dehumidifier. the humidity is part of what makes uk heat dangerous even when the temperature isn’t that high
It really annoys me when people tell me I type fast when I’m using my communication device. Or that I’m really good at using it. They mean well but it feels very patronizing. Part of me wants to say that they talk really well. I have to type really fast if I don’t want to be constantly skipped over in conversations especially in groups. I know some people aren’t able to be as fast as me regardless of how hard they try. But it still pisses me off that non disabled people create situations where I have to type super fast to be heard and then patronize me when I do sometimes manage to meet the requirements for contributing that were always meant to exclude me, intentionally or not.
Not to be former Catholic-blogging on main but Chicago Pope can WRITE, y'all
Breaking the chains of new forms of slavery 173. This distorted view of the human person is reflected today in various forms of servitude directly linked to the digital economy. Nothing in the world of AI is immaterial or magical. Every seemingly immediate and flawless response is the result of a long chain of mediation, involving vast networks of natural resources, energy infrastructure and, above all, people. A significant part of the digital economy’s functioning relies on the silent work of millions of people engaged in essential yet largely unseen activities, such as data labeling, model training and content moderation, often involving disturbing material. In many cases, these workers are young people, predominantly women, working under demanding conditions for minimal wages. Added to this invisible labor is the even harsher work of extracting the resources required for the production of the devices and microprocessors on which AI depends. In some regions of the world, children and adolescents work in dangerous conditions, crushing the materials from which rare earth elements are extracted. The bodies of these people are scarred, injured and worn down so that computational flow may continue uninterruptedly. Furthermore, criminal networks use online platforms, messaging systems, anonymous payment methods and profiling techniques in order to recruit, control and transport victims of trafficking — very often minors — reducing men and women to “data” to be tracked and “packages” to be moved around within the same digital circuits that support much of the global economy. This reality deeply challenges the moral conscience of our time. It is not enough to invoke efficiency, nor to celebrate the benefits of innovation, if they are built on a chain of exploitation that remains deliberately hidden. If technology promises emancipation, yet produces new forms of global subordination, it stands in contradiction to the fundamental principle of human dignity.
MAGNIFICA HUMANITAS OF HIS HOLINESS POPE LEO XIV ON SAFEGUARDING THE HUMAN PERSON IN THE TIME OF ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE
This reality deeply challenges the moral conscience of our time. It is not enough to invoke efficiency, nor to celebrate the benefits of innovation, if they are built on a chain of exploitation that remains deliberately hidden. If technology promises emancipation, yet produces new forms of global subordination, it stands in contradiction to the fundamental principle of human dignity.
i went and read/skimmed through the encyclical and damn. bangers all around:

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re ehrc guidance. which is not legally binding.
[ID: a bluesky post by 'robottom', reading "if you're cis and you are asked by your management to police bathrooms, "can you confirm in writing that you are ordering me to approach customers to discuss their sex?" is an email no manager wants to reply to". A repost by 'innes mck' reads "this is what I mean when I say "don't let orgs and managers see discriminating against trans folk as the path of least resistance". transphobes are persistent and annoying. be just as annoying. show them compliance is going to be a legal nightmare". /End ID]
I don’t know a word of Korean, but I love how I can tell the chat is clearly cracking up at this.
“LOL I’M DRIVING” is a universal experience
The chat going absolutely apeshit is my favourite part of this video.
People who are making posts telling us what is happening over on threads, twitter, and Instagram are like war correspondents sending us reports from the front.
hold my soft little fox body. yes. feel it tremble, feel my heart beating in your arms…
i’m getting dunked…
[Image ID: Tumblr tags reading: above me is the basketball goal. i know what i must do, i am truly sorry /End ID]
i was forced into syscovery by an endo system when i was extremely young and in an unsafe environment. almost immediately, they pushed me into using pluralkit. they treated my alters like circus freaks and got annoyed whenever i expressed discomfort.
for the longest time, i felt completely alone in my experiences because i didn't match what they insisted was "normal." i didn't consistently have a headspace. my gatekeepers couldn't just summon alters to front at will the way theirs supposedly could. everyone around me seemed to experience things in the same neat & tidy way while i felt pressured into pretending that i was just like them to avoid scrutiny.
i had to redo my syscovery from scratch last year because so much of what they taught me (& what the community normalized in general) felt harmful and incorrect.
you know what happened once i did that? i could actually see experiences similar to mine reflected in medical texts, rather than feeling like i was forcing myself to fit some standard. funny, isn't it? somehow, i was more of a "faker" in their community than i ever was in ours.
so yes, i am anti-endo, and i do believe endogenics are harmful to our community. i was a victim of that environment. there's a lot more i could say, and i know i'm not alone in this.

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the number 1 rule of fanfic is have fun and be yourself. the number 2 rule is the average healthy adult male can lose roughly 2 liters of blood before dying.
The FBI cut the phone lines during the 1977 disability rights sit-in. Then they turned off the hot water.
They locked the doors from the outside. One hundred and fifty people were trapped on the fourth floor. Half of them used wheelchairs. The government assumed they would leave.
Kitty Cone was thirty-three. She had muscular dystrophy. Her muscles were failing, but her logistics were flawless. She knew how to organize people.
The federal government had promised to sign regulations protecting disabled Americans from discrimination. The policy was known as Section 504. They printed the promise on paper. Then they stalled. Without a signature, it was just typography.
The protesters entered the regional Health, Education, and Welfare building in San Francisco on a Tuesday morning. They took the elevators to the director's office. They brought sleeping bags and catheters. They informed the staff they were not leaving until the law was signed.
By sunset, the police surrounded the exits. Kitty sat near the windows. She organized the floor plan. She assigned committees for security and sanitation. She kept her medication in a small cooler.
According to federal memorandums released decades later, the strategy to end the occupation relied on medical attrition. The building was not equipped for long-term habitation. The FBI calculated that a population requiring ventilators, specialized diets, and daily medical aides would voluntarily evacuate if the environment became sufficiently hostile. They instituted a blockade.
The blockade went into effect immediately. No food deliveries allowed. No medical supplies permitted through the lobby. Guards stood at the main doors checking identification.
Kitty's muscles deteriorated faster under the physical strain. She couldn't walk. When the phone lines went dead, the fourth floor lost contact with the press. The government waited for the quiet.
Kitty dropped to the floor. She realized the barricades were designed for standing adults. The police had blocked the hallways at waist height. They hadn't blocked the linoleum.
The floors were covered in cigarette ash and spilled coffee. She dragged her body through it. She crawled under the barricades to reach the restricted elevator shafts and unguarded offices.
She carried notes in her pockets. She found a single working payphone the FBI missed. She called the local news desks. She called the mayor's office.
She crawled back. When her arms failed, someone pulled her by her ankles. The Black Panthers heard the news reports. They crossed the police lines with hot meals. The FBI could not stop them without a riot.
They shut off the elevators, so she crawled.
The occupation lasted twenty-five days. It remains the longest non-violent occupation of a federal building in American history. On April 28, the Secretary of HEW signed the regulations without a single alteration.
The protesters left the building the next morning. They went back to their apartments. The Rehabilitation Act regulations laid the groundwork for every accessibility law that followed. The HEW building still stands on United Nations Plaza. The elevators run on a schedule. The doors are heavy glass.
Kitty Cone: the woman who crawled under the barricades.
Source: Kitty Cone's oral history, Bancroft Library.
Verified via: National Museum of American History.
(Some details summarized for brevity.)
[id: black n white picture of Kitty Cone. text read “The FBI shut off the water. The elevators were locked. She dropped to the floor.” end id]