adhdemonsus - Tumblr blog

[adhdemonsus]

“Yes, I am crying although I am a man. But has not a man eyes? Has not a man hands, limbs, senses, opinions, passions? Is he not fed with the same food, hurt by the same weapons, warmed and cooled by the same summer and winter as a woman is? If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? Why should not a man complain, a soldier cry? Because it is unmanly? Why is it unmanly?”

— August Strindberg, from “The Father”

[adhdemonsus]

sometimes it’s just u and ur oversized jacket against the world

[adhdemonsus]

You are in a café with me, what tea do you order?

1. Rosehip tea: Which book did you love when you were younger? 2. Oolong tea: Which book series could you read again? 3. Rooibos: What is one of you favourite books? 4. Strawberry tea: Tell me about your first kiss, if you had one. 5. Apple tea: Tell me about your first break up, if you had one. 6. Earl Grey: Which countries have you visited? 7. Chai: Where do you want to travel next? 8. Darjeeling: What languages do you speak? 9. Hop tea: Do you have a favourite tea? Which one? 10. Herbal tea: Which person would you chose to travel the world with? 11. Nettle tea: Are you jealous on a person? Why? 12. Ice tea: Do you miss somebody? Why? 13. Yellow tea: What shampoo do you use? 14. Peppermint tea: What is your favourite gif at the moment? 15. Ceylon tea: Do you have a song you like, but have bad memories with? 16. Hibiscus tea: What is a song you can always hear? 17. Flowering tea: What is a movie you can always watch? 18. Pu-erh tea: What is a book you can recommend to others? 19. Turkish tea: What is your favourite cake? 20. Green tea: What was the first movie you saw in a cinema? 21. Blueberry-Muffin tea: Tell me a memory, which makes you smile. 22. Panda tea: Do you have pets? Which one? 23. Butter tea: Show / Tell me about one thing i your room you find awesome. 24. Hot chocolate: Do you have (a) stuffed animal(s) sitting in your room? Which one(s)? 25. 24 flavors: What is your favourite word? 26. Jasmin tea: Can you draw / paint? Wanna show me something? 27. Kombucha: What do you order on a pizza? 28. Cloud tea: Which movie do you want to watch next? 29. Gunpowder tea: If you had the chance: would you go to space? 30. Matcha: Bonus question of you choice! I might answer…

[adhdemonsus]

[adhdemonsus]

Hello, fellow cs major here. I have asked quite a lot of people this year in my university how they study and the prevalent was a mix of time blocking & pomodoro. Can I ask how *you* study effectively for cs-specific courses? Not an overachiever myself so this question stems from curiosity mostly :D

Hey fellow cs major, thank you for your question but I really think I’m not an appropriate person to answer this.. what really makes me productive is the last minute panic and anxiety before an exam and that’s why I have always been the cramming before exam kinda person. But for cs courses what really seemed to work for me is understanding the concepts. I know you probably have heard this so many times but I have honestly seen myself do such much better in exams when I understand the concepts REALLY WELL. So I suggest making notes on a topic twice, the first time in a more formal way and the second time make notes on what you understand of the concept. Solve a lot of practice problems on a topic until you feel confident enough. I have seen my professors changing the algorithms in many ways during exams, and if I didn’t understand the main concept behind it, I wouldn’t be able to notice the slight changes. I feel like this is the most important thing I have learned and I hope this helps you in some way. If you need any more advice or have any more questions, feel free to ask :) best of luck !!

[adhdemonsus]

[adhdemonsus]

[adhdemonsus]

Guard Cat of the Library of Ephesus

[adhdemonsus]

the concept of how sir arthur conan doyle was as a person always sends me into fits. imagine making the most famous literary character of all time but you hate the character so much you try to kill him off. but everyone is so horny for this asshole detective they make you bring him back. even your own mother gets mad when he’s dead because she likes him. raising your prices to ridiculous rates to avoid writing holmes stories backfired and now you’re rich. it’s absolutely a pain because it’s keeping you from your true passion which is spiritualism despite how one of your good friends harry houdini keeps telling you it’s bullshit. you consider your best novels to be historical ones but they’re well over shadowed by the nemesis of your own creation sherlock fucking holmes. some fake photographs from some kids convinced you faeries were real and you wrote a whole book about it. you started writing stories in medical school. and yes, also you are a doctor. after you’re dead, they erect a statue of sherlock holmes across the street from your birthplace, causing you to probably roll over one hundred eighty degrees in your grave and scream into your casket pillow.

[adhdemonsus]

I’m DED.

[adhdemonsus]

2019 Fashion year in review. (via @rover_thecat)

[adhdemonsus]

Clare Turlay Newberry (1903-1970)

Cat Napping,  before 1940

[adhdemonsus]

paint me like one of your studio ghibli background sceneries

[adhdemonsus]

thoughts on the friendzone

when i was 5 years old my best friend was a boy named kyle who didn’t know how to knock on doors so he made dinosaur noises outside my window to wake me up in the summer until i demonstrated how to ball his fists and slam them against my doors.  we collected caterpillars in my trailer park and built them houses while we traded pokemon cards.  he wasn’t the only one.  there was ben, and mitch, and noah—but kyle’s the only one who hurt me, because when he tried to kiss me and i asked him why, he told me “because you’re a girl and i’m a boy, shouldn’t we like each other?”

i missed him so much and i wondered why he couldn’t just be my friend like he always was

in the first grade there was rich and joseph and i got sent to detention with them almost every day with a smile on my face.  we built block towers and sang to my teacher’s lion king soundtracks when she’d turn the lights off during lunch time.  one day they got in a fist fight over me at recess, and i wondered why they felt they needed to share my friendship, like it was something they owned.

in the second grade zach and i played yu gi oh under our desks during free time and i got moved for talking to him constantly.  everyone in the class would tease him and i for talking, asking when we were going to date already, asking him if he’d kissed me, and he stopped being my friend.

when i was 11 i met a chubby boy with the name of a colour who wore puffy vests and unwashed t-shirts, with greasy hair and bright blue eyes and a smile that hid hurt behind it.  people didn’t like him because he was silly, but i liked him, because i was also silly.  he became my friend the day he bought me 5 giant roses and asked me to be his girlfriend, and i politely declined but promised him i’d be his best friend because i’d always wanted a best guy friend that stuck around. we burnt our feet on the concrete during the summer and walked home with the sunset silhouetting us.  he talked often about how he loved me, but never blamed me for being me, even though he refused to move on. that boy dyed his hair jet black and sat on the end of my bed playing songs to me on guitar, and all that pent up rage from before didn’t show until the first time he slapped me across the face and called me a dumb cunt.

in the 7th grade there was a boy named ryan who sat next to me on the bus and talked to me about manga.  he’d ask me personal invasive questions but i didn’t mind because it was attention and i liked attention.  i was dating another guitarist with curly brown hair, one who was much more kind-tempered than the other, and ryan mentioned how much of an asshole he was every day.  i wondered, why, why does he think the love of my life is an asshole?  but whenever i asked him, he just told me, “girls only date assholes.  there’s no room for nice guys like me.”

i wondered, if he was so nice, why did he say such mean things?

he never stopped with me, taking me to movies, hanging out with me, you know.  being friendly.  i thought we were friends.  but then, how many times had i thought that before?

how many times had i bonded with a boy, thought they got me, only for them to ask me if i wanted to make out?

how come when i told ryan i was coming out as a lesbian, he stopped being my friend, and said “damnit, the one girl i really want to pound into a mattress, and she’s only interested in chicks!”

there was a boy my junior year who stayed up all night with me until the sun rose, talking about life, past loves, hopes, dreams.  beneath a million twinkling stars spanning forever, he brushed long brown hair out of his eyes and listened to me talk about the history that made me. then he asked me if i’d ever consider dating a guy, and complained about how he’d never get laid.

when i told him no a couple hundred times, he found new girls to listen to.

i would sit on the couch and play zelda with dakota, and he’d talk about all my favourite games with me.  he was the closest thing to support i had, and the letters and poems he wrote me were always so kind and friendly.  but he’d put his arms around me on the couch, and no matter how many times i told him i was uncomfortable, he’d still come over every day and do it.

“don’t you know how it feels to love someone and not have them love you back?  don’t you know what it feels like to be friendzoned?”

when i meet guys who talk about the friendzone, who talk about the girls who don’t give “nice guys” like them i chance, i always want to just say

when i was 10 years old i met a girl whose brown hair fell across her shoulders and whos eyes sparkled when the sunlight hit them, whose voice was like velvet and whose scent was like mountain smoke, who made me dizzier than a fly climbing a sugar hill.  and i’m 18 years old, and i still love her, and she knows, and she doesn’t love me.

but my first thoughts upon hearing her rejection were not “what a bitch,” were not “she just wants a douchebag and not a nice girl like me!” were not “im going to keep pushing her until she dates me,”

they were

“she is the best friend i have ever had, and i am the best she’s ever had, and i would hate to take that away from her.”

so before you play the victim, mr. Nice Guy, before you angrily throw your fedora on the ground and blame the girl you claim to adore so much:

put yourself in the shoes of a girl who thought she made a wonderful friend, only to find out that he just wanted her for sex.  that he just wanted her for a relationship.  a girl who was just an object to win, a prize.  a girl who’s trust you’ve just shattered.

maybe she friendzoned you.  but you girlfriendzoned her, first.

[adhdemonsus]

my dream looks exactly like that

[adhdemonsus]

i like my room quite a bit // ig

[adhdemonsus]

me, decomposing on my bed: sending you all good vibes :)