where the wild things went

We took the drunk train home.

They were all absolutely infatuated with him and whispering about how much they wanted to pet him and then shushing each other saying “no that’s rude you can’t! just leave him alone!” so I told them they can pet him if they want and they were absolutely overwhelmed with happiness, while simultaneously being very concerned for his well-being, continually asking if I was very sure that it was okay and that I should please please tell them if I need them to leave him alone.

like, that friend who you can talk to about a specific fandom you're both in and absolutely nothing else.

that friend you can go out to lunch with maybe once a month and have a great time but any more and it's just Too Much.

that friend who's helped you through some really difficult emotional shit but whom you can never, ever discuss politics with without having it end in tears.

...When you're a full-time wheelchair user.

Like: thanks. But what am I supposed to do with the advice to take a five-minute walk every half hour?

In my head I know there are probably other exercises I could substitute for that -- like arm stretches and reverse sit ups.

taking a piece of text that someone probably put their heart and soul into creating and using it as your raw material, cutting out everything that you deem irrelevant to the point you want to make

i mean imagine cutting up a painting and using it to make a collage, or taking a marble sculpture and carving pieces out of it to make a different sculpture