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@randomsideblogtime

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Meltdown Imminent
Throws my 'Donnie goes to Raph if he can't control his meltdown' headcannon at you with extreme aggression
(This autism thing is kicking my ass right now, my body feels weird, nothing I draw looks right, I want to throw up, throw something, or throw myself out of a window - and he's my comfort character for a reason. Allow me to vent, if you will~)
Thinking about "You're have no immediate family. You dont even have a dog." And like duh thats devestating, but theres also the fact that the people telling him this are people hes been working with for 4 years at this point. Theres this quiet implication thats not just "you have no family no pets and no partners therefore you have no one to leave behind" its also "we, your coworkers who you might have called friends and who have been at your side while we all save the world for close to half a decade, are not close enough to you to even be mentioned in Stratts little speech. We will not stop this, we wont even protest or apologize. You have no friends at you side in your final moments." And i think thats even more heartbreaking honestly.
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 it’s not to watch the shoppers. See, we can’t 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 didn’t exist in my household. It’s normal now. Here is something that is not for me.
“What the hell, I’ll take another,” 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. He’s not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. He’s not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadn’t spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldn’t have spent any. I go home. I don’t 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.
I’m not worth the cost of a watch.
i wrote this while i was working at orlando’s 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 (“cast members”) are dedicated, passionate, and selfless. this is never reflected in pay. even “face” 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.

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Mikey: “I made a game for everyone!”
Donnie: “That’s a wall.”
Mikey: “A FUN wall.”
Mikey got bored, grabbed some spray paint, and somehow turned a rooftop wall into a word search.
Anyway, good luck finding all the words! 🐢✨
princeton university press is having a 50% off sale and i limited myself to just three books but the temptation to go back and browse for more is extremely strong
so i'm telling you all about it instead. it goes until june 9!
Abdel Kader Haidara, the librarian who saved Timbuktu´s ancient cultural treasures from al-qaeda
This reminded me of a short story I wrote a few years ago, after reading an article in Smithsonian magazine. Saved By Bud Koenemund A 100 Word Story Inspired by “The Salvation of Mosul” by Joshua Hammer, Smithsonian magazine, October 2017 I used to visit the museum, before all this. The purge… The war… I hated this painting; the dull colors, the awkward gaze, the lazy brushstrokes. Sometimes, I’d stare at it for an hour, wondering what people see in it. Other times, I’d avoid the hall where it hung. But, when they started closing libraries, and burning books, I knew it wouldn’t be long before they came for everything else. I had to save it… The art… Whatever I could… Even as flames destroyed the building. I rescued this. Someday, I’ll give it back. Maybe it will help people remember. http://thechimesatmidnight.blogspot.com/2017/11/saved.html

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original by clairetablizo
@sepiamestus is this how it's supposed to be done
oh. oh dear.
uhm. yeah that.. that explains it.
This is an awesome use of what is probably a master's degree if not a doctorate and I am 100% thrilled that she shared it even though it was embarrassing and she squeaked.
The Philadelphia Inquirer, Pennsylvania, July 29, 1904
Well that’s not so crazy I mean how much could–
OH
tiny chapel

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Just watched a short that helped me get a better idea of how schizophrenia works
I thought it was interesting and I like the way the doctor explains it, so I want to share
This video explains so much about how my brain works. I’m inappropriately tagging things as important when they’re not and then trying to explain that importance with what ends up being delusion. Boom. That did so much for my understanding of schizophrenia.
He’s having a pedicure