#and we should be talking about it

[patience-knowledge-focus]

After looking through several days of syscourse, you know what:

There is no point in spending thousands of words arguing about the validity of experience. It's pointless.

You can scream from the rooftops that the ICD/DSM/DIDresearch/Your Uncle says some experience isn't possible. And people are going to keep having it all the same. And they will give it whatever label fits.

Much more interesting are some of the bounds and conditions.

Did you know (from purely anecdotal evidence of reading #plurality tags for the last years) that people of all labeled origins tend to describe very similar experiences? Whatever is happening in the brain, is occurring in ways that share common language. This is fascinating.

Did you know that most systems on Tumblr stumble onto their systems rather than create them (again, regardless of origin)?

Or that most systems view their headmates in a generally positive light? Even when sharing frustrations about them and about the disorder (for those who are disordered). People who talk about spiritual origins, including possession, also discuss their experiences with generally positive words.

Did you know that some people introject fictives wholesale, and others seem to create and introject particular qualities or archetypes? And that those introjects often speak to the system's real-world influences, often from their childhood?

Did you know that a fair few people discuss a particular experience of being two, often complementary, beings? Specifically, two, often of different genders, often perceiving themselves as close friends, person+imaginary friend, or siblings? And I have no idea why. If this isn't cool, I don't know what is.

What I want is to see more people be interested in the details and less worried about policing each other's lived experience. I want to know what that means? Why does the brain do it that way vs. some other way? What does this mean for personality development?

Look, all I'm saying is that, arguing about whether someone is or isn't a system isn't going to get you anywhere. Whereas discussing shared experiences is a fascinating glimpse into how people understand themselves, how brains work, and how spirituality is closely connected to physical experience. These are remarkable things to dive into. That's what I want to see discussed more.

[lazylittledragon]

can't believe we're all adults being forced into the club penguin level of censorship in 2024

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hey now, Let her cook!

[science-lings]

my dad saw ao3 open on my computer and asked if that was like my writing club and just so you know that's what fanfic writers are now, we're all in the same writing club where we all write about the same media and show each other our little stories and that's kind of cool actually

[holdoncallfailed]

i'll never get over the way brooklyn 99 woobified the literal NYPD what the hell was that. and everybody ate it up with a spoon too

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

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

[eirawashere]

Look at them look how peaceful they are I'm sure no zombie apocalypse-like thingy will get to them

[un-ionizetheradlab]

It makes me so uncomfortable to see people post blatantly anti-Jewish content and then turn right around and stan Jewish historical figures. Like, do they hate us or love us?

[lesbinewren]

truly do not understand people looking at something with dynamic, colorful, beautifully stylized animation and going “okay that’s cool but what if it just looked like real life instead”

[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.

[machinerot]

[homkamiro]

me ultimate hc that sniper can perfectly mimick animal sounds (bird whistling for example helped him attract predators back when he was a hunter!!)

[afrenomes]

Women have every right to label this a misogyny issue without having to put several asterisks on it

[weepynymph]

they just like pushing them around

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Flower Empowered.

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[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

anyone else have multiple traumatic memories associated specifically with holidays/family vacations? because that is a topic I never see discussed in all the So You Had A Shitty Childhood, Now What? self-help books i've been reading. but for me, it was a significant thing. and the more i think about it the more it seems like this would be an (unfortunately) common experience. would be grateful to hear if this matches other peoples' experiences...