one of my favorite artists got ran off twitter for "fetishizing" his own disability on an 18+ personal account by a fucking 15 year old, and in light of that, i just want to say if you fucking police what disabled people do/think about our own bodies you can go fuck yourself.
you arent entitled to anyones backstory, anyones "reason" why they're disabled, and making bullshit claims about how they DID IT TO THEMSELVES is ableism 101. im so furious right now i can't see straight.
this fucking wave of puritanical anti-sex fear-mongering NEEDS TO END. you're hurting REAL PEOPLE over ART! over FICTION! the kind of fiction that's been created since humans started existing!
reevaluate yourselves and your own relationship with sex before coming for ANYONE ELSE.
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happy valentine's day to all my fellow fems and butches 💖💕💝
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making my own post bc i don't wanna derail a post specifically about trans people
we need to use the phrase "identifies as" less. when someone is Identifying As something, they just,,,, are that thing. whether it's man, woman, enby, dog, cat, lizard, dragon, etc., they ARE that. just say that.
i want less 'pup identifies as a dog' and more 'pup is a dog'
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(this doesn't apply if they personally prefer using 'identify as' type language to describe themselves btw)
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SYMPATH
Elevate your heart rate. Stare into the headlights.
Cool for: Escape artists. Prey animals. Panic Attackers.
If Half-Light emphasizes aggression, Sympath emphasizes
evasion. Your neurons fire warning shots in times of peace.
Your body maintains a consistent baseline anxiety that may
keep you cautious, however persists despite your best
efforts.
At high levels, you will not want to be here. You cannot
stand to be here. You will remove yourself as best you can.
As far away as you go, you find that you cannot ever leave.
At low levels, you won't feel fear. You can wake up and not
be drowned in a constant crushing dread. You will not worry
about the vague impending doom. You also will not fear in
times that demand your survival. You will not know the
danger until you're in it.
Another fake skill. I had a difficult week and thought about how if I had skills, I'd probably have a high Half-Light. This is what it looks like for me.
My other skills can be found here: ALLUSION PANOPTIC
This is sort of meant to be vent art. This one may seem harsh and possibly upsetting but I felt like I had to get it out for myself. I got my neurotransmitters REALLY scrambled this week and found my GAD surfacing in times I didn't want it to. It feels silly talking about this. Also: SYMPATH refers to the sympathetic nervous system, the controller of the fight/flight response. I kept thinking about the band AJJ and how they have to regularly specify at live shows that they got their physiology knowledge wrong when writing "People II The Reckoning." Fun fact: part of my username is derived from AJJ lyrics.
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yknow it occurs to me that my high school art class experience was not normal at all because every time i tell a story about it the person i’m telling suddenly has ten thousand more questions. like. i don’t know where the dead rat in a jar came from or how long it’s been here, brenda, it’s been the class pet longer than anybody’s attended or taught here
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the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again
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i have started asking myself “how can i make this more fun?” in regards to the things i have to do and it is such a small difference but it brings me so much delight
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quick psa bc apparently it still needs to be said
DO NOT REPOST ART
idk in which language i have to say this for y’all to understand
DO NOT REPOST ART
i dont CARE if you credited the artist i dont CARE if u found it on pinterest i don’t CARE if you found it on instagram i don’t CARE if u found it laying in the corner of the sidewalk i don’t give a shit. it’s simply not yours to take and post without permission
repeat with me. you can repost only. and i mean ONLY. if the artist has given you explicit permission BEFOREHAND, asking them after you reposted does absolutely nothing. nada. nisba. niente. zero. it’s even worse.
(and permissions to repost are not blanket statements. if an artist is ok with reposting it doesn’t mean that another artist will be too, if you have the go-ahead to repost a certain art doesn’t mean that the permission extends to the rest of the artist’s work as well. “oh but i thought—“ i don’t cARE. ASK EVERY TIME.)
PLEASE begging to show even a crumb of respect for artists/writers/creators and their work it really is not that difficult
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in summer of 2021 i got my first shot of the covid vaccine in a rural vaccination centre. the person working there was very respectful and asked how to gender me correctly. it was a very small interaction but it stuck with me, especially after i got misgendered a bunch at my city's vaccination centre when i got shot #2. in summer of 2022 i talked with some people at a trans meet up and one of them told me that their transfem friend worked at that rural vaccination centre and had briefed the rest of the staff on trans identity. i have such a fondness for this trans stranger whose efforts impacted me in this small way and made my experience getting vaccinated a positive one. and it gives me hope that the work i do when i educate cis people around me might have a positive impact on trans people i will never meet
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I can feel myself becoming more heterophobic with every second I spend trying to have a conversation w my dad
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you empaths need to realize that getting pissed at low/no empathy people for… being the way we are isn’t gonna magically give us empathy. it’s actually gonna make us less inclined to even learn how to feel it LOL
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no comment pisses me off as much as consistently as "i couldnt tell youre autistic" does. we've gotten it on several occasions after sharing that we're autistic and its always said like its a compliment. something positive. its not. not to us.
there's a couple situations in which this comment will come up. someone new who we've known for a short amount of time, a few hours at most, who we've been masking around the whole time. masking takes effort that is tiring. our masking isn't perfect, but it gets the job done. its not a compliment here because we are putting so much effort in to keep them comfortable. we dont want to do this. "i couldnt tell" means "you're masking adequately and i will expect you to keep this up forever to keep this view of you in my mind perfect".
someone we haven't bothered to mask around much or at all. new or not. "i couldnt tell" means "i have a singular view of autism probably influenced by a singular autistic child, most likely a family member. you dont act lik my nine year old autistic nephew so i think you dont act autistic." if this isnt a new person, there's a high chance this person has commented on us "acting weird" before. one instance of this was someone who, about two minutes prior in the same conversation, had also said she "admires that [we] can be [myself]" in reference to how we dress and act. the reasoning given for not being able to tell we're autistic? "you're so well-spoken!" something that stems from our autism.
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i think a lot about hot sauce and jeannemary. two young girls so ready to kill and to die. a comparison made all the worse when you recall that hot sauce lost all her family to the cohort, that she can specifically recall fourth style necromancy (using corpses as bombs). a fourteen and thirteen year old that could easily have been on opposite sides of the same front line.
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holding your gay lover ash wednesday afternoon is like. the myth of the ancient martyr wouldn't understand us but I'd die for love too, I would. and I will, we all will.
I'll take my pink eyeshadow off in a couple hours, to be replaced with a smeared cross, a bigger love, a love I'll die into. I'll wash it off when I get home so I won't break out (and so it won't get on my pillow) and it'll still be there when I look in the mirror out of the corner of my eye.
either life or death will separate my butch and I—whether God leads us diverging ways or Sister Death claims us one by one first, I only get this for now.
but God asks us to live for now, to love for however long we get to, and to remember the whole way how fragile it all is. I don't pretend to know the why, but I hope I never forget the way my hand is warmer in another's.
I understand the rib story now, y'know? not in a way that triumphs over the love for my sister or my friend or my grandfather, but in a side ache that means we're slowly becoming made out of each other. I would be complete without it (I have been all along)—and also: the more people I love, the more faces God lives in.
I don't presume to know how love exists after death, but I hope—I know—we all return to the same dust. till death do us part, to become something else that can love easier and forever.
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tfw you get a mortal to sign your contract (you get their soul)
(based on 0:57-1:08 from this clip from Its Always Sunny)
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