.

never take for granted the moments when you’re not nauseous

im a protected species you fucking asshole

I'm gonna say it, I do think that even the laziest person imaginable should have a roof over their head, food in their stomach, and access to healthcare

The situation in Gaza is still incredibly dire. Israel is attacking the people in the strip despite the 'ceasefire'. Gazans access to food, medical care, and evacuation is poor.

I think it's incredibly important to support people in their times of need. Please consider donating or reblogging to support his campaign. One good action can make a world of difference for another person.

The situation in Gaza is dire due to shortages of food, medicine, and medical equipment. Hundreds of thousands of wounded and sick people are suffering because of the siege, and my father is one of them. He suffers from many problems: arteriosclerosis, high blood pressure, back pain, and cancer. My father is fighting for his life under the siege and the lack of all medical supplies. I don't want to see my father die before my eyes because of this Please donate now

Please continue to help and support Nader

partially-managed mental illness is so fucking funny i'll be sitting around doing my job and suddenly think "wow i hate myself" and immediately get confused because, like, that's not TRUE! i love myself so much. who are you to talk to me like that

We really went from "free the nipple" to "um the public didn't consent to you wearing a choker"

Sending love to those desperately trying to reignite their spark.

one time I went over to a friend's house and their housemate was making paper in the living room, and we saw this big tub full of water they were using to dissolve old scrap paper into a slurry, and everyone was immediately like "oh, you need scrap paper?" and started turning out their jacket pockets and producing expired coupons and bus tickets and crumpled receipts and old shopping lists and whatever else they'd been carrying round with them for no good reason, and passing it all to the paper-making housemate to make sure it was suitable before it got torn up and dropped into the tub, while people took turns stirring the slurry with a big wooden stick. it was strangely ritualistic, like presenting an offering to some kind of temple elder for inspection before placing it in a watery shrine to be devoured and reformed. pulp for the pulp god.

This is painfully American

when we say "it is functionally impossible to parody Americans in a way that will actually insult them" this is the sort of thing you're up against. is your sick burn funnier than corporation burger clown sing national anthem baseball game? no?? of course it isn't.

I like clingy. I like attention. I like affection. I like double texts. I like random calls. I like paragraphs.

Every time a trans man comes out, the world becomes brighter.