You're someone to me

these photos were assembled by Maya Barkai (taken and submitted by numerous photographers around the world) for the art project Walking Men Worldwide! :)

"he would not fucking say that" but about injuries. he would not fucking recover that quickly. those scars would not fucking heal like that. he would not be fucking able bodied after that. he would not be fully lucid after that.

Nothing good.

this is a renaissance painting

people who do a PhD are running from something

the job market

anti-doomerism has actually improved the way I handle my depression. I’ll think something like “I have nothing to look forward to, everything is getting worse and it’s not getting better” and then I’ll be like “whoa, cringelord. you sound like an emo 14 year old. you’re not helping anyone or anything with that misanthropic hopeless attitude. grow the fuck up.” and I bully myself back into participating in life, because depression and the associated dark thoughts are so cringe

it would suck being a new immortal. like it’d be 2109 and people would go, “what was it like seeing ancient civilizations rise and fall like that? seeing the pyramids being built? watching the expansion and growth of the new world?” and i’d just be like, “no…no i was born in 1991. so like, wow i’m gonna see some cool stuff, but, i mean i’m not that much older than just a really, really old person, you know? phones were big back then. so big. but only for like ten years, then they got like, as good as they are now. uh. rhinos existed. don’t think i ever saw one in person. cool, good talk.”

even worse, imagine being an immortal who keeps missing stuff. “What was it like seeing the pyramids being built?” “Fuck if I know, I was in Madagascar.” “Oh, okay. Well, how was the Renaissance?” “I fell down a hole in Scotland and people thought I was an enchanted well for four hundred years, it was over by the time I convinced someone to get me out.”

It’s been a decade since we left that comment and you have the best reply anyone’s left to it.

This has been my life since ‘96 😅

This

Talking to allo people who haven’t really interrogated how society has told them to view sex feels like that bit in SpongeBob where Patrick keeps failing to put his hand on the lid

Sex is just a thing. No it’s just an activity. It doesn’t have to be… no listen it’s just an activity. An activity. It’s just a thing. A thing. No it’s not the same for everyone it’s just an activity. No it’s a value neutral activity. An activity. An activity.

[Image ID: Tumblr reply from sorryThatHappened reading: as an allo person why was my first thought "oh so sex is like playing wario land 3" /End ID]

A character trait/dynamic that I'm endlessly compelled by is someone dealing with (or, like, failing to) being the child of people who were too busy being good people to have the time and attention to be good parents. This can be anywhere from 'was a public defender who gave a shit working 60 hour weeks with basically no vacations' to 'left their family behind to join the revolution/war effort and is now a universally beloved martyr-hero who saved/remade the world with their final breath' on the groundedness spectrum. The important thing is a viscerally felt but confused and ugly mess of longing, resentment, and guilt about feeling the resentment.