Rioting on the Inside

hey guys im making french toast sticks in the oven. I’m gonna take a quick nap wake me up in 5 minutes so i can flip them over

Randy its been five minutes flip your sticks

snnnnzzzzz

The Gaslighting Magician: This is your card

im swimming at the lake and accidentally kicked a fish. this has never happened in my many years of swimming. sorry man

someone accused me of feigning a sexual attraction to spiders for clout. there's easier ways to get clout, man.....

Someone once called my 22 minute hand sewn 18th century buttonhole tutorial video "Empty, clout driven content" so I think some people will just say anything.

sometimes being a fan of something means not wanting them to make any more of it

I think part of getting better is complete ego death. Like you’re not above setting a timer for 5 minutes and focusing on a task. You’re not above doing a very simple 3 minute workout to start. You’re not above reading for 10 minutes a day when you first get out of your reading slump, even if you used to read for hours. You’re not above starting slow and then building up to where you want to be/where you once were. What you are above is total inertia. Doing something really is better than doing nothing. Radically accept where you are, radically accept your limits, and go from there. Don’t let your ego get in the way.

I suggest applying this logic to using your local library!

they match each other’s freak to a degree that is dangerous to the public

Why do they even make apps for ADHD. You want me to use my 24/7 handheld immediate distraction device? To manage my 'gets distracted too easily' disorder? Ooooh we developed the perfect tool for managing your anemia. Its hosted in Dracula's castle. 👍

Picked up my phone to consult my task list for today and now I'm reblogging this instead, case in point

advertising lemonade is pointless. the human body already knows it needs it

truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.