October can’t come soon enough
IT IS AUGUST
This has been in my likes since last year. It is time.
This is the 21st night of September skeleton. He only appears once a year.
October can’t come soon enough
IT IS AUGUST
This has been in my likes since last year. It is time.
This is the 21st night of September skeleton. He only appears once a year.
God, anyone else remember when everyone understood that the correct feminist position about sports was that women should be allowed to compete with men because they're just as capable? When it was a trope in media to have the mysterious star athlete who just blew everyone else out of the water to take off her helmet and reveal that she was a woman the whole time?
Now people are rabidly arguing that supposed "men" (trans women) have inherent insurmountable biological advantages in literally every single possible activity and cis women are too weak and dainty and unskilled to ever compete and must be protected, and then they try to call themselves feminists who are being silenced as if that's not just the mainstream sexist patriarchal opinion
Anyway, desegregate sports. There was never any reason to separate them by gender in the first place
I had a dream that unless the teacher told us class was over, we were forbidden from going out the door. Our teacher was very forgetful, and maybe even malicious. After being forced to stay past sunset many days, my class decided we were going to break out every night. Eventually our attempts led us to discovering rifts in space-time where we could warp. So we never used the door. Checkmate.
the window
what? you going to critique my dreams? my subconscious creations, that I did by accident, while asleep? the chemicals in my brain? are you going to use your foul eyes and dissect all of the plotholes in my dreams? you going to critique the weather? harass the clouds? make fun of thunder for being off key? remind me to come to your house and shred your shoes
the human body is an engineering marvel. I sneeze in bright light. if I dont get enough sunlight on my skin I get tired and sad and have to drink a lot of milk to fix it. standing too much hurts, but sitting too much also hurts. if I get a virus, my body will increase its temperature in an attempt to cook it, which also cooks my brain cells. toenails exist. I have to turn the radio down to see better when I drive. there are 17 genes dictating what my hair texture is, but it completely changes when the air is too humid. yawning is contagious. there are more species of bacteria living in my body than there are species of birds in the entire world. every few months I grievously injure my neck by "sleeping on it weird." it took seven million years of human evolution to form me, and now I'm afraid of phone calls.
“umm arts not a real job ://“ show me a stock. put a stock. into my hands. you cannot do that can you? but you know what i can do? i can draw you giant furry boobs and place that gentley into your palms. who of us is the truer man. who of us provides at the end of the day. look me in the eyes
boys can have thousands of coming of age movies, perv on girls, make jokes about finding their underwear and bras, but a kids movie mentioning periods (something very young girls will get and have to adjust to) is somehow dirty and taboo.
if you see a piece of media referencing a natural part of us growing up as sexual, that’s YOU being sick in the head, not us.
i'm thinking about charlotte brontë spending her last years editing and publishing her sisters' writings and about christopher tolkien dedicating his life to the protection and meticulous reconstruction his father's life's work and about johanna van gogh publishing the letters between vincent and theo that would propel vincent van gogh into fame because she knew how much her husband had loved his brother, and about how so often art isn't just a reflection of the artist's mind and skills but a testament to the fact that they were loved