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throuple t-shirt.

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More Trees from Cape Perpetua

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pocket puppies

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my pet mold spores

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animals are so right about nuzzling your face into things

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Saw the meme and had to do the thing

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Roasted chicken, ginger, daikon, shiitake mushroom soup with lime, cilantro, broccoli sprouts, and rice noodles

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The problem is that America has beaten down its people for decades and gotten them weak and desperate and now promises a way out, a way to transcend and rise above, through selling out their fellow man. They encourage contempt and hatred as one way ticket to not being included with the masses being death marched to poverty or imprisonment or whatever other bitter end surely awaits the people they’re told are beneath them. An embarrassingly large chunk of white men are just straight up nazis these days as a way to dissociate from the rest of the carnage around them, even if they’re broke and uneducated and from an impoverished background themselves. They’ll vote for and align themselves with anything for a taste of power and control that makes them feel a little less helpless. The same goes for minorities. They’ll punch down if they think it’ll get them somewhere, even if in reality they’re punching sideways. I don’t know what else to say, really. Everybody is so incredibly hateful. We are a loveless, disrespectful nation. We are so spread thin by our government that we would sell each other out in a heartbeat for an ounce of relief. This is what we’ve come to.

It’s not even about Trump at this point. He’s gonna get in office and do whatever he does and it’s gonna be a mess but whatever. This is indicative of deeper problem. This is just the ugly consequence of the already present reality in this country that we all just despise each other. There is no solidarity and there is no love. Trump being in office or not doesn’t change the fact that America is a breeding ground for violent hatred. Trump has given people a shining example of how to give in to the worst parts of your human nature and make it the problem of everyone around them. I don’t even know what we’re supposed to do about that. I don’t know if that’s something we can come back from. And if anything COULD be done about it, Trump certainly wouldn’t do it. Honestly, Kamala probably wouldn’t have either. We are so deeply fucked.

However, I must say, if you voted for Trump, I hope that peace never finds you. Instead, I hope clarity strikes you someday like a clap of lightning and you have to live the rest of your life with the knowledge and guilt of what you’ve done and who you are as a person.

Love yall. Shit is so bleak but the world keeps spinning until it doesn’t, I guess. We can’t count on the government for literally even a shred of progress or hope so just keep up the good fight in your own personal lives. That’s literally the only thing to be done at this point. Stay safe out there. Maybe buy a gun.

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election day

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lesbians Calico Jack and Izzy

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An embroidery of the Wikipedia page for embroidery.

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In the gay sex dungeon doing my crossword with a coffee, occasionally looking up with mild interest

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the only time of the year this can be posted

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When I was a child I loved pickles. Not a normal amount. I loved pickles so much that my mother had to institute a pickle limit. I have no idea how many pickles it takes to make a very absentee parent set a pickle limit but as I was a child of excess let’s assume I craved an unholy bacchanal of pure pickle madness.

After the Pickle Rationing began I was like a poor wartime child deprived of sweets but the sweets were pickles. I’d piteously beg for more than my daily allotment and when the regime of two pickles a day stayed firmly in place I began to develop a system. A pickle system.

I couldn’t get more pickles. But I could draw out the pickle eating experience to hitherto unknown lengths to wring as much joy from each one as possible. The first pickle I ate in a fairly reasonable manner, if more slowly then a regular pickle experience. The second pickle though. The second pickle resembled the first only in the first bite or so. And then I’d take each bite and carefully chew it. And chew it. And chew it. But never swallow. As it began to lose flavor I would carefully dole nibbles of what was left, each fresh burst of pickleness sparking a fraction of the joy of a real bite. But as long as I was chewing, I was eating a pickle.

I could spend hours chewing. Every infinitesimal bit of flavor was systemically worked out of every shred until I was chewing a pickle adjacent cud every day. It took a while for my mom to figure out why I always seemed to be chewing. It could last from lunch to dinner, really, and if I could have saved my disgusting facsimile to resume chewing after dinner I would have.

My mom tried to ban this behavior but ran into my overwhelming stubbornness and autism. I would not be swayed. If there were not more pickles then I would insist on this perverse charade of getting to enjoy them for as long as I could torture their spirits with my mouth.

So my mom lifted the Pickle Ration and I ate myself sick for a week and never mummified a pickle in my mouth again.

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I don't mind being a girl but sometimes I look at other girls and I think about how we are not the same gender

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i love you polyamory i love you open relationships i love you situationships i love you queer platonic relationships i love you friends with benefits i love you uncommon demonstrations of love i love you complexity of the human emotion and experience

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Really crazy that you can be like "yeah I'm just not interested in actively pursuing romantic relationships right now" and people will try to like. Argue with you about it. Why do you care