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strikkster · 1 month
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strikkster · 1 month
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First time posting my knitting to tumblr. Look at my Bug Son
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strikkster · 1 month
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strikkster · 4 months
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“In 1404, King Taejong fell from his horse during a hunting expedition. Embarrassed, looking to his left and right, he commanded, “Do not let the historian find out about this.” To his disappointment, the historian accompanying the hunting party included these words in the annals, in addition to a description of the king’s fall.“
LMFAOOOOOO rip to that guy
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strikkster · 4 months
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I'm watching You. I'm enjoying it as a psychological horror, but viewing it through an aromantic lens is a trip.
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strikkster · 7 months
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strikkster · 7 months
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“Winter is the only true season of touching. In winters, no matter how efficiently you dress up, a raindrop will find you. Fogs will enshroud you and leave their wetness on your face. Dry, cold air will crack your lips. As you inhale, mist will touch your nostrils and the inside of your throat. You will feel winter’s touch on the backs of your ears. Winter’s physicality reaches everywhere.”
— Nikita Arora, A history of botany and colonialism touched off by a moss bed (via halcynth)
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strikkster · 7 months
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When a person with ADHD complains of severe anxiety, I recommend that the clinician not immediately accept the patient’s label for her emotional experience. A clinician should say, “Tell me more about your baseless, apprehensive fear,” which is the definition of anxiety. More times than not, a person with ADHD hyperarousal will give a quizzical look and respond, “I never said I was afraid.” If the patient can drop the label long enough to describe what the feeling is like, a clinician will likely hear, “I am always tense; I can’t relax enough to sit and watch a movie or TV program. I always feel like I have to go do something.” The patients are describing the inner experience of hyperactivity when it is not being expressed physically.
At the same time, people with ADHD also have fears that are based on real events in their lives. People with ADHD nervous systems are consistently inconsistent. The person is never sure that her abilities and intellect will show up when they are needed. Not being able to measure up at the job or at school, or in social circles is humiliating. It is understandable that people with ADHD live with persistent fear. These fears are real, so they do not indicate an anxiety disorder.
holy SHIT
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strikkster · 7 months
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strikkster · 7 months
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i made a uquiz to figure out which greek god you share vibes with
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strikkster · 8 months
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“Someone can be madly in love with you and still not be ready. They can love you in a way you have never been loved and still not join you on the bridge. And whatever their reasons you must leave. Because you never ever have to inspire anyone to meet you on the bridge. You never ever have to convince someone to do the work to be ready. There is more extraordinary love, more love that you have never seen, out here in this wide and wild universe. And there is the love that will be ready.”
— Nayyirah Waheed
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strikkster · 8 months
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Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient // Waving Through a Window—Ben Platt & Original Broadway Cast of Dear Evan Hansen // Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart // @iimememe on Twitter // Alice Oseman, Radio Silence // Marie Howe, "The Landing"
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strikkster · 8 months
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One morning, Mike woke up to discover that things had suddenly gone a bit German. He took a look around his Schlafzimmer and everything seemed to be the same, but he could feel that everything was just slightly . . . off. He took a shower, got dressed, machte Frühstück, and began his morning commute. The train was exactly five minutes late, which war seltsam, weil there hadn't been a train or a Bahnhof there yesterday. With a shrug, he bought a ticket and a bottle of water and headed towards the train that seemed to lead to his office. Die Flasche Wasser koste fünf Euro, which struck Mike as außergewöhnlich weil er in Florida liebte.
,,Was zum Fuck ist los?" sagte Mike. ,,Ich war gestern in Gottverdamm't Florida!"
Aber er versteht es nicht.
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strikkster · 8 months
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My personal brand of aromanticism is when Crass said:
"They ask us why we don't write love songs. Why is it we sing, then? Our love of life is total; everything that we DO is an expression of that. Everything that we write is a love song."
That line has lived in my head ever since I first heard it as a teenager, before I'd even heard the word "aromantic." It was an Awakening.
Around that time, I had a poster in my room that I made, with that Che quote about true revolutionaries being guided by a great sense of love. Now, I have the Crass quote on a poster I made. I'm bitterly stifled and confused by romance, but I'm a little obsessed with love.
I don't do romance because romantic love isn't special. It feels fake to pretend I love any individual person more than I love the first snow, new grass in spring, a stranger who confesses their trauma to me at a bus stop late at night, a good sunset, the ideal of freedom, or a stray dog I met in the street on my way to work this morning. I'll express love differently, but it all feels the same. Any of it can overwhelm me if I let it. Putting it into little boxes and making rules for each one is baffling, infuriating, even. It's all just love to me; everything is.
They ask why I don't fall in love. Why am I alive, then? My love of life is total; everything that I do is an expression of that. I can't "fall" in love because I'm always already there.
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strikkster · 8 months
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A co-worker of mine was standing outside with me during a break from customers to share a cigarette with me, and told me about how he had lost his brother that he was close with some years ago. He told me about how they used to be in a band together with some friends, and how ever since he'd died, he hadn't played any music because he'd been too scared and anxious. I told him about how I'd lost my brother to suicide some years ago.
I went home and pulled out an old tiny wooden box my brother had given me before he'd died. I'd been using it to store guitar picks I'd collected over the years, including one guitar pick that used to be his. I haven't played the guitar since he'd died, my hands are too small to play some of the chords, so I play bass and piano instead.
I went to work the next day and gifted my brothers old guitar pick to my co-worker. I told him that it'd been sitting in a box for ten years unused, and would probably sit there for longer if I kept it there. Told him that I thought he deserved to have it, because I bet he could put it to better use than I ever would. Told him I didn't feel like it was coincidence that me and him would cross paths with each other in our lives, and that it seemed suiting that we had these similar experiences but split in two halves. That somehow, I felt like he was meant to have the guitar pick. I told him that I knew he'd not played guitar since his brother died, but that if he ever decided to play again one of these days, maybe he'd be able to honor both of our brothers by using that guitar pick.
He almost cried. He thanked me. Then he went home that night and for the first time in years he played the guitar.
I don't know what the meaning of life is or what my purpose is, but I do believe that love and human connection is one of the most important things in life. It's finding ways to tell strangers you love them and share experiences with others. I think it's all just about love.
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strikkster · 8 months
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wait people sleep with their doors closed????
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strikkster · 8 months
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Super fucked up that I can’t be a master-level expert in knitting AND woodworking AND silversmithing AND embroidery AND soap making AND spinning AND -
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