#Conditions of Life

[wanologic]

sorry danny, sam will never think you’re cool

[uncanny-tranny]

Not to sound like a person who actually cares about children, but it's so alarming that there's this tendency and trend of not telling kids about their medical conditions that are in their charts.

I'm finding out as an adult that they (though it's not documented who) diagnosed me with a life-long, chronic condition without telling me when I was a teenager. I found out recently when I got curious about my medical charts, and otherwise, I would not have known what's wrong with me. I've been left with more questions than answers, and I feel like a private investigator investigating my own damn health and life.

Is this medical malpractice? Yes. However, I think it also speaks to a broader point of how children are seen to not be entitled to their own lives in any capacity, to the point where they are (intentionally or not) made ignorant about things that are or will affect them.

[daisywords]

One of my biggest nitpicks in fiction concerns the feeding of babies. Mothers dying during/shortly after childbirth or the baby being separated form the mother shortly after birth is pretty common in fiction. It is/was also common enough in real life, which is why I think a lot of writers/readers don't think too hard about this. however. Historically, the only reason the vast majority of babies survived being separated from their mother was because there was at least one other woman around to breastfeed them. Before modern formula, yes, people did use other substitutes, but they were rarely, if ever, nutritionally sufficient.

Newborns can't eat adult food. They can't really survive on animal milk. If your story takes place in a world before/without formula, a baby separated from its mother is going to either be nursed by someone else, or starve.

It doesn't have to be a huge plot point, but idk at least don't explicitly describe the situation as excluding the possibility of a wetnurse. "The father or the great grandmother or the neighbor man or the older sibling took and raised the baby completely alone in a cave for a year." Nope. That baby is dead I'm sorry. "The baby was kidnapped shortly after birth by a wizard and hidden away in a secret tower" um quick question was the wizard lactating? "The mother refused to see or touch her child after birth so the baby was left to the care of the ailing grandfather" the grandfather who made the necessary arrangements with women in the neighborhood, right? right? OR THAT GREAT OFFENDER "A newborn baby was left on the doorstep and they brought it in and took care of it no issues" What Are You Going to Feed That Baby. Hello?

Like. It's not impossible, but arrangements are going to have to be made. There are some logistics.

[batsyheere]

Duke, who is tired of being bullied for still having only a few spots checked off on vigilante bingo, decides to get even when family game night includes Never Have I Ever. Danny, who is either a friend or basically adopted family at this point, was invited.

He brings up the fact that he has never died and been brought back to life. Multiple fingers are put down, groans and complaints are made, and then they all turn to Danny when he just stares at the ground.

"If it happened more than once, do I put more fingers down? Or just the one?" he asks. The room falls silent for a few seconds before the flood of questions start.

[coonazz74]

I was given a name 9f a condition for why parts of my body hurt at 23. Just the name of the condition. No treatment. No referral. Just the title of the terms and conditions for my life.

My 20s were bitter with the research into what the condition was. Doctors didn't even accept the condition was real.

My 30s were spent trying to get the correct meds working for the physical and mental issues the condition causes.

My 40s have been more accepting of the conditions of my body along with tweaking meds that work for me.

Terms and Conditions of life can kiss my ass.

Some days, I've made peace with my disabilities. I've accepted that this is my life, and my symptoms will likely never go away.

Other days, I'm filled with rage that /this is my life and my symptoms will likely never go away/ and no amount of crying in doctors offices and various medications will fix me.

I'm enraged that medical professionals seem to think that because my blood work is normal, there's nothing more they can do.

Some days, I can be happy with the few tasks I can still do, or that I can still work part time.

Other days, I'm furious that life just /isn't fair/.

Today though, I'm just sad. Sad that doctors seem to not care about the invisible illness. They don't seem to care about people with chronic pain with no evident cause.

I'm just sad.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Just your average male living space.

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[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

i think everyone who's ever had migraines should be financially compensated forever btw

[arinrowan]

My maternal grandmother could crochet.

Nothing complicated. Basic granny squares and double crochet, but she was the one in the family who made blankets for her kids and grandchildren. Dementia hit in her nineties but she still remembered how to make granny squares and made dozens. I asked her for one last blanket but by that point the dementia had taken how to join the squares. They were stacked in piles around the dining room table and when she went into care, into a plastic box for storage.

When she died, I asked for them. By that point I could crochet but didn't know how to join, and figured, someday, I'd learn.

It's at least a decade later. I'm the one who makes blankets for my nephews, for my cousin's children, for pregnant coworkers. Last year I made seven blankets, three for Project Linus, the rest for family and a friend. I can follow crochet charts, filet crochet, do clusters, fans, basic lace, amigurumi.

The world, as is its wont, is on fire. Tonight, I have opened the plastic container for the first time in a decade. I'm sorting them into piles by color. I know now how to look at them and see where her memory slipped or areas I'll need to repair. There's no printed pattern but if I need more I have the skills to copy the pattern.

Each square is 5 inches. Blanket size for Project Linus is 40x60. I'll see how many people I can give her last crochet legacy to.

[pikatik]

I just like drawing them talking

(Long haired Aziraphale again :D)

[redfirefox-55]

I love Moon so much she’s such a cutie

I’ve been brainrotting about Rain World AUs for a few weeks and I love the ones where an iterator dies and experiences the cycle, ending up back in the past, but I wanted a Moon centric one, so that’s what this is based on

[crescentfool]

my longest friend and companion

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[secretloverfun]

How to become more addicted to porn and ruin your silly brain 💞

How to become more addicted to porn and ruin your silly brain 💞

1 - Stop cumming. Full orgasms makes you feel like you 'had enough'. You should never have enough, you need to be kept in the edge.

2 - Stop being picky. Good girls don't choose. Watch every single porn that shows on your feed/timeline/search results.

3 - Stop skipping. The video timeline should not exist for you, you should watch from beginning to end in normal speed and without pauses.

4 - Edge for every single video/image. It doesn't matter it you liked it or not.

5 - Always watch porn when you feel sad. This will make your brain see porn as a method of escapism and it will slowly gets more needy for it.

6 - Any horny thought should lead to watching porn.

7 - Get used to it. Stop watching porn only on your bed or bedroom, watch it as you would to any youtube video.

8 - Expand your fetish list. Start to try slightly different porn categories and gradually develop a wide taste.

9 - Use as much porn plataforms as you can. Video streaming platforms are not the only way to consume porn. Use twitter, tumblr, image folders, etc.

10 - Punish yourself for not watching it. You spend a day without porn? Then the next time you watch you wont be allowed to touch yourself, and so on.

11 - Start to save it. Download the files you most like and watch them everyday.

12 - Lose hope. Stop wondering about recovery, this is for normal people, not dirty sluts.

[buddhisms-theory-of-happiness]

[Why do some people stay in your life for long but not others?]

“We come together when conditions bring us together, and part when conditions separate us.”

This is a quote from Master Shinran in Section 6 of Tannisho. Your parents, grandparents, siblings, lovers, husbands, wives, children, friends, bosses, subordinates - you met these people because you had the conditions for you to meet.

Some people may have already left your life, such as people you haven't seen since graduation, people you dated briefly but fell out with and broke up with, or people whose time on this Earth has come to an end. In this quote, Master Shinran said you were separated from them because you had the conditions to be separated.

“To be or not to be with someone depends on conditions.”

There are people that you don't really try to spend time with, but for some reason they are always in your sight. In the workplace, that’ll be someone who you find yourself working with a lot for some reason. Conversely, you may have worked with someone for many years at the same workplace, but only remember their face and name. You’ve never had a good conversation with them and you don't really know what kind of person they are.

“Conditions” are a mysterious thing. Because of them, there’s no guarantee you can stay with someone just because you like them, and no guarantee you can leave someone just because you don't like them either. No matter how much you love someone, if there is the condition for you to leave them, you will have to leave them. There are also people who you want to stay away from because they stress you out, but for some reason, they are always around and involved in your life in some way.

A “condition” can be a very fleeting yet irreplaceable thing, while at other times it can be heavy and troublesome. If possible, we all want to live a life in which we are blessed with good conditions and can be grateful for all the conditions we have had.

It was Master Shinran who taught us of the radical transformation of mind that fills our lives with brightness and inspires within us deep gratitude for all the conditions that surround us.

Three points I talk about in this video are :

1. "Animate and inanimate conditions" 2. "Were a husband and a wife enemies a long time ago?" 3. "Shingyobo"

Hope you enjoy the video. Thank you.

[wachtmeister4art]

Turb-o-lence (2023)

New Media Art | Vector Graphic | Art Print Edition | © 2023 Bernd Wachtmeister

[duckysprouts]

somehow i ended up on horrid henry twitter after years of forgetting it existed and i remembered how messed up his home life is. true british suburban horror