dont talk to me or my clone or my shadow self or my reflection or my me ever again

Love Begins
RMH
noise dept.
untitled

@theartofmadeline
Mike Driver
YOU ARE THE REASON

gracie abrams
Jules of Nature
ojovivo
EXPECTATIONS
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Not today Justin

shark vs the universe

tannertan36
hello vonnie
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

#extradirty

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@sofiadistracted
dont talk to me or my clone or my shadow self or my reflection or my me ever again

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Hate to do this, but just a heads up - any listings you see for this pattern (which I wrote and have made available FOR FREE on Ravelry) are not authorised by me. I've found two different listing this morning. If you see them, please report them if you can. Really disappointed.
#knittingcommunity #patterntheft #ravelry
I will never shy away from the word goon. goon is the only way to describe a particular type of henchman, lackey, or thug. look at these guys. they're goons.
I always think of the description I saw years ago: Self-imposed deadlines don't help me, because I know the person who set them, and they're full of shit.
Give yourself the treat before you start. I'm serious. And ideally during the task and afterwards too.
Executive dysfunction comes from a lack of available dopamine. Common advice is wrong. You need to provide your own dopamine before you can start. Otherwise you're trying to run your car on empty.
"But what if I still don't do it" well you already weren't getting it done anyway. Now you have a little treat. Try again later.
You deserve kindness and care even when you aren't being productive.
(Also read How to Keep House While Drowning by KC Davis)
I give my students a LOT of techniques for starting writing when it feels overwhelming or daunting, but one of them is exactly this: dopamine load BEFOREHAND. It may sound weird to people on tumblr dot com, but a lot of people seriously struggle with executive dysfunction when it comes to writing literally anything, to the extent that it can cause such symptoms as panic, depression, and AI chatbot use.
I usually suggest this technique as a "Reverse Pomodoro." In the original Pomodoro, you work for 25 minutes and then take a break for 5 minutes (the times vary, but that's the essential ratio). People with executive dysfunction often find this insurmountable, and they get even more frustrated, and then the task seems even more difficult. So instead, flip those times.
FIRST, spend 25 minutes doing something energizing and engaging that you like to do. Not scrolling social media passively, not watching tv, not napping. Try something like colouring, doing yoga, running/walking around the block, talking about your favourite tv show with someone in real time, playing with the dog or cat, making and eating a lovely sandwich, hula hooping, something active. Having a little treat absolutely falls in this category!
(on the subject of little treats: refusing yourself food until you do work is for fucking Puritans and you can be kinder to yourself)
Then, after 25 minutes (or however long it takes to eat the sandwich or finish the yoga routine, it doesn't have to be exact), spend 5 minutes writing (or doing whatever you're struggling to start). Most people can coax themselves into doing something they find difficult for five minutes, if they have already filled up the joy/energy/engagement bucket. You can put a timer on for the 5 minutes if you want, or if you find that annoying, just work for as long as you like.
The other key is: don't push yourself to keep going when you're frustrated or tired—that will just reinforce the negative belief that you already have, which tells you that this task is painful to do, and needs to be avoided. If you've commonly had to force yourself to do this kind of task, that's likely part of why you think of it as painful and have trouble starting it now. Also, you should just, at a basic level, try not to put yourself in pain for the sake of productivity. So just do it till the good feelings run out. Then start hula hooping or colouring again for another 25 minutes. When the tank's refilled, try another 5 minutes of work, if you can. Adjust times to taste.
Not every technique works for everyone, but I've seen this one work for many students who are genuinely and seriously disabled by executive dysfunction. And many people find themselves getting more and more excited and engaged in the "difficult" task—because the good feelings from the hula hooping carry over, and because they're suddenly able to do the task without feeling pain, and feel accomplishment without feeling pain.
I also like mixing fun tasks in with the hard tasks. Fun tasks aren't the reward! They're still work! I still get breaks in between!
So, today, one of my terrible awful tasks was scrubbing a piece of the flooded basement floor. Not fun. Drank tea first, and played on Tumblr after.
But another task was researching the history of familial terms - aunt, uncle, niece, nephew, etc. - so I could make a fun post about omegaverse alternatives. I WANTED to do this. I LOVE linguistic research! But I was doing it to answer someone's question, so it was work that was benefiting others. Painted my nails first, made myself an electrolyte drink after.
This teaches your brain that work doesn't HAVE to be terrible! Slowly, my brain is learning to stop dreading things just because they were classified as work, and instead dread only the things that ACTUALLY suck.
(And it doesn't dread them as much, either! Mopping does, in fact, suck. But the downstairs den has been a pit of doom for a half-dozen years, and now that I had to throw a bunch of stuff out, I am REALLY enjoying looking at all the space. There's a little thrill when I start mopping, because I know I'll be able to stare around proudly after. That DID NOT used to happen!)
as someone who doesnt watch a lot of tv shows but does watch a lot of video essays, there is nothing more exciting than a popular tv show ending badly. its like a whalefall for my youtube recommendations. thank you stranger things also sorry that happened

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If you are here, you need to not be.
The mandatory evacuation zone stretches from Ball Road to the north, Trask Avenue to the south, Valley View Street to the west and Dale Avenue to the east. That includes parts of Garden Grove, Cypress, Stanton, Anaheim, Buena Park and Westminster.
Potential blast zone:
if you put the new harry potter show on my dash in any way it's gonna be an automatic unfollow from me, guys. like. it's 2026. come the fuck on
i know no one on here cares, but it's so wild to watch NASA piloted launch coverage again after years of having to deal with SpaceX. They're explaining minor glitches without bullshitting about weather delays?? There's a guy holding his 2yo kid's model rocket being like "he said I could use this so it's okay. Anyway, the battery for this system is here--"
To everyone in the notes calling me out for saying no one cares, I typed “I know no one here cares” because I am a motorcycle racing rpf fanfiction blog and “here” is “my motorcycle racing rpf blog where this was, at the time, like the 8th post about rockets in a row”

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there's literally nothing more radical in 2026 than believing that humanity can become good news for each other and the only world we'll ever share.
Saving the tags.
I picked a fight today with a judge about the meaning of Lord of the Flies in defense of “people are good.” He admitted defeat.
i will get my freedom.
current fan creation landscape is kinda like if you went to a party with a homemade cake and everyone takes a slice and silently thumbs up at you with no attempt to start a conversation except for occasionally some guy sits in the corner with a tape recorder critiquing the cake as though he was a restaurant critic and another guy is handing the cake to an uber driver like "yeah i need you to find a restaurant that makes cake like this so i can have more of it" and the only person that's talked to you in 30 minutes is a very sweet little guy who was like "hey i liked your cake" and then ran away apologizing for bothering you the moment you said thank you.
someone brought a cake analysis robot to feed the cake into to determine the exact ingredients and supposedly it can spit out the exact same cake. and if you're like dude. what. then they're like well if it bothers you you should have made more cake. i'm hungry and i deserve cake. and you're like dude we're at a party.
Three months later you find out that fifty people locked themselves in a room to discuss how much they loved your cake and how they wished you made more. None of them ever told you.
so for the love of god. please tell people you liked their cake and don’t feel embarrassed about it. because then they will make more cake.
context according to instagram:
original image from the magazine:
Found a scan of this issue on the Internet Archive (it's the back cover). This scan is 4000x6000 for all your high resolution needs!
La Domenica Del Corriere v60 n29 July 20 1958, Milan, Italy, 36 pages, 40 lira.Front and rear covers by Walter Molino.
The caption reads: "Defeated by roses. Near Turin's Lingotto station, along a lonely path, Miss Guida Concetta Rinino, 28 years old, who was bringing a nice bunch of roses to a relative, was accosted by an unknown young man. The young woman, rather than losing heart, defended herself with extraordinary energy, using the bunch of flowers as a weapon. So it was that the scoundrel, his face all scratched up, had to flee. (Drawing by Walter Molino.)"
Incredible. At a distance I understand how the woman might appear to be the abuser and the man the sympathetic victim, but the second you zoom into the man’s face the pink-cheeked rage- not remorse, or rejection, or embarrassment- not heartbreak or despair- but RAGE- the deeper story speaks itself into your suspicions.
And the bit where they’re HER roses? Almost a relief, but also sadder, as she will arrive at whatever event without them, or with them destroyed.
Do you think when the righteous anger and anxiety and annoyance fade, when she arrives at her destination- will her loved ones applaud her? Will she be proud? Will her hands shake? Will she walk home with company from then out, and for how long?
In this moment, she is provoked into anger. Anger is good- it appears strong. But look at his face. Would you put it past him to linger there after dark, in case she returns alone?
What story will HE tell, of ‘I was perfectly polite, but she didn’t even give me a chance- women like that, they’d swoon for a jerk in a heartbeat, but kind and flattering men like me?…”
I love this piece. It paints both stories while illustrating the power dynamics and struggles at play. This should be shown in art classes
This is what a rigged economy looks like.

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The real risk for American broadcasters is not that dissent will be visible. It is that audiences will start assuming anything they do not s
“The irony is that the Olympics themselves are built around the idea that sport can exist alongside political tension without pretending it does not exist. The International Olympic Committee’s own language – athletes should not be punished for governments’ actions – implicitly acknowledges that governments are part of the Olympic theater whether organizers like it or not.
“Friday night illustrated that perfectly. American athletes were cheered, their enormous contingent given one of the most full-throated receptions of the night. The political emissaries were not universally welcomed. Both things can be true at once.”
#thank you for loving our athletes and hating our politicians#thank you everyone who cheered for our athletes and booed for Vance#all the athletes from all countries should be celebrated
My father is a classic layabout lazy bastard. He's the guy that people try to stereotype people on benefits as when they call them "dole bludgers". Sits in a filthy house all day whining that his wife won't clean it up, gets a great idea for a new business every few months and gives up after two weeks when it becomes clear that starting a business is hard, does everything he can to avoid doing a single scrap of work in life, uselessly drags his feet when the government forces him to actually do some.
Or at least, he was, until about three years ago, when he was sent off to do mandatory Work for the Dole at a volunteer organisation. He'd done a lot of Work for the Dole in the past, of course, and like most people who are forced to do a shitty job under the threat of starvation, was neither enthusiastic nor particularly useful. But in this particular place, he was given a job that he could do better than anyone else (he was one of 2 men working with a legion of elderly women, and the only person able to easily haul around the heavy goods that the organisation works with). He quickly found himself with a job he could understand, he could see the clear utility in, and that his coworkers greatly valued him for. He started arriving on time every day, putting in the effort, getting shit done. He started caring about the results. And when his Work for the Dole time was up, he kept volunteering.
He's one of two people paid to work in that warehouse now (the other person being the manager), and he's a lynchpin of activity there, their sole regular and reliable source of physical labour. When he takes holidays, they have to plan around it, because his consistent hard work has become such a critical asset to their work. And he's not taking nearly as many holidays as he should -- he works extra unpaid hours, lifts loads that are somewhat heavier than he should be lifting, shoulders the work of others when they need breaks, and we all have to urge him to take more days off for his health since he's not a young man any more. For my entire life this man has been a pile of old mud in the shape of a human, and the instant he found a job that fulfils his needs, he won't fucking stop. He's gonna die in that warehouse and die happy.