#and very personal

[artilaz]

The absolute visceral urge to play with Gale's hair. I love beautiful, well-maintained hair anyway, it's been like that ever since I can remember. I love love love running my fingers through a significant other's hair, I love the feeling and the texture, I love to brush it, and even help them wash it, and the current brainrot isn't making it any better.

I bet Gale would have the smoothest, silkiest hair you could imagine. This man keeps himself as clean as the circumstances allow, so he probably takes really good care of it, and I just wanna do that for him. I want to take a bath with him, climb into his lap, and just give him the best hair wash and head massage he's ever had until he was moaning and sighing from relaxation, and the fact that I can't do that should be considered a human rights violation.

[identityconfusioncentral]

Still wondering whether this is DID, OSDD, or polyfragmented. (Long rant ahead, sorry)

Like, are we (the “frequent fronters”) a sub- or side system? Because we share most memories and have mostly non-possessive switches. And it seems like none of us remember the “worse” trauma. Some of us hold the emotional memories, but still don’t seem to remember stuff I don’t. Obviously they could be hiding what they know from me.

Anyways, I feel like there’s a lot hidden still. And I don’t know if it’s a side system or just a couple alters that aren’t ready to be acknowledged yet. But it just feels like whoever is in charge is hiding in the dark.

It’s really just a feeling and I don’t want to read too much into it. I just see posts about polyfragmented systems and I have no clue if we fit the criteria.

I just feel so fake because I don’t lose time very often, and I feel like my own memories are just as blurry as memories that belong to other alters from when they fronted.

I guess I’m just worried that we’re never gonna heal because there’s stuff hidden. I kinda expected an alter to just take my hand and explain everything to me, but that hasn’t happened. And like I don’t want to be polyfragmented, I don’t want things to be more complicated. I’d love to just have a clear, relatively short alter list. But I can’t help but feel like I’m not getting the whole story.

Like I’m not expecting to be shown super traumatic memories, it’d just be nice for someone to be like, “I know what’s going on. I know how our system works and why it exists.”

Everyone I’ve met seems just as clueless as me. So have I not met everyone? (I know I haven’t, I wrote down over 40 names and only actually know like 10. I don’t even know if all the names are alters or whether someone was just messing with me and saying random names)

I think, not knowing what kind of system we are, or what kind of trauma we have (in addition to the minor stuff I remember), just worries me. What am I missing. And again, how do I heal from something I (and every alter I know) don’t remember? How do we process trauma that none of us have memories of? I can only guess at what’s traumatized us, and I wish whoever holds the memories could get the therapy they deserve. But they’re not ready I guess.

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[nando161mando]

There are now over 15 million empty homes in the US, and 650,000 homeless per the very bias official numbers, or 23 houses per person

[aesethewitch]

When I was a kid, we moved into a house that had a huge lilac tree out front. It was mostly rotten, and it needed to be taken down before it fell. It took a while, but eventually, it was gone.

Mostly. A couple years later, little lilac babies popped out of the ground in its place. My mom was determined to get rid of them, because she'd planted a beautiful flower garden there, and the lilac trees would overshadow and kill the whole garden. I insisted on saving at least a few saplings. She said fine, but I had to dig them out and put them in pots myself.

So, I did. I spent days digging little lilac bushes out of the ground and putting them into pots. Some couldn't be saved, but some could. When all was said and done, I had five brand-new lilac saplings. Seven or eight years old, and it was my absolute pride and joy.

Three died due to sun scorching, severe drought that no amount of watering could save, and perhaps just being moved from their place in the ground. But two survived, and I was awfully proud of them! I'd go out and talk to them every single day. I watered them by hand and made sure they were fertilized properly. I learned all about their favored environments, and I was determined to make sure they lived.

One of my mom's friends saw what I was doing with the lilacs. She asked if she could have one to put in her backyard, and I agreed on the condition that she take very, very good care of it.

It's now fucking enormous. I'm talking ten feet tall and bursting with beautiful purple flowers every spring. My mom still gets updates each year as they start to bloom, which she forwards to me. And all I can think is, "That's my friend! Thriving some twenty years on, there it is."

The other tree nearly died, too. It lived in a pot for far, far too long. I wanted to plant it somewhere in my parents' yard, but my mom was reluctant. Eventually, we agreed to put it in the far back garden. It grew okay for many years, despite the shade, but in all these years, it's never bloomed.

Last year, the massive tree casting massive shadows over the lilac and the garden cracked in half and fell. It tumbled into the garden, crushing part of the nearby shed and destroying a few plants beneath it.

It missed my lilac by inches.

The clean-up is long done. The rest of the tree has been cut down, and my lilac has full sunlight for the first time in fifteen years. It won't bloom this year, I know. But it's got new shoots up. It's taller than ever. I spent half an hour a few weeks ago praising it for surviving all this time, dreaming about its future and telling it how I believe it'll become the tall beauty it's always been meant to be.

I think next year, I'll see flowers.

[wildbasil]

things haven't been great but i think they will be. eventually 🌻🌼🩷

[ukrainian-groove-metal]

I love the "came back wrong" trope but from the opposite side.

Imagine you are dead. And then you are RIPPED from the embrace of decay into the world of the living again. Your memories are hazy and you don't recognize any of these people, but they act like they're close to you? Like they love you? So you try to get your memories back, to act like you belong here, but everybody tries to forget you died. And you can't. It is omnipresent. And just trying to grapple with that fact pushes the people who "love" you away, and they're incapable of understanding, and they're so confused, what's wrong N̶̄̀O̶͛͗T̷̉́ ̷͋͝Y̴̎̌Ȍ̴̈U̸̓R NÄM̴̃͑E̵̾̇? And you just need them to understand, you aren't that person! You aren't! You don't know who that person is! You don't know why any of this is happening, but they're unwilling to bend, they keep insisting you are that person, your memories will come back, everything will be normal again, and you want to scream and cry and claw yourself open to show them you're different. Your existence as a being wholly separate from whoever you "used to be" is a sin unto itself. All you can do is scrabble for life and to them, you're killing whoever they loved to do it.

just. lots of fun in that concept, you know?

[vpyre]

Hrrrm I’m struggling. There’s a lot that’s wrong with me but one thing in particular is fucking me over lately. And in combination with my current situation, it is a fucking nightmare of confusing feelings. I’m probably gonna overshare (i have no one to talk to about this other than the two people involved, so I’m turning to tumblr to vomit my feelings. I just need this OUT of me), so I’ll continue under the cut

Long story short, I might be poly, but my partner is definitely monogamous.

We have an agreement that, as long as I get permission from them first, I can fuck other people. Just no full-blown relationships. I’ve never actually needed to ask, cus nobody has caught my eye (and I’m probably on the ace spectrum somewhere. Or just socially inept), but I’ve always been worried about what would happen if I got emotionally attached to someone else. If I fell in love, basically. I consider love to be a boundless thing, able to be shared infinitely with people without diminishing the love I’ve already given to others, so it’s killing me a little bit that my partner is unlikely to allow me to have full relationships with others. Obviously, their feelings on this matter too and I’d never push them into something that makes them uncomfortable, but that’s also killing me. I don’t know how to honor their boundaries without sacrificing an important part of how I love. I’ll do it for them, but it hurts.

And to make all this shit worse, I think I’m catching feelings for someone. Key word is “think”. I am NOTORIOUSLY bad at deciphering how I feel about others, so for all I know, it could be a hyperfixation, it could be a crush, it could be me mistaking platonic feelings or the excitement of meeting someone I really like for romantic/sexual ones, or a secret fourth thing that I will not disclose cus then I might give myself away (I seriously doubt they’ll see this post, but I’m not chancing it). I haven’t told this person anything yet cus I still don’t even know what I’m feeling for sure. I just know that I care for them probably way more than they care about me. Way more than I probably should, considering that we’ve not known each other long at all.

That’s what the problem I was talking about is. One of the things that’s wrong with me is that I latch on to people I really like and I get obsessive. Not the possessive, invasive type of obsessive, but the kind of obsessive where I think about them 24/7 and want to be with them and talk to them all day every day. It doesn’t feel super great to think about how I’m THIS invested and they probably just see me as some mildly entertaining guy they happened across that keeps fucking pestering them all day, or at best, someone they enjoy talking to and thinking about every so often, but don’t care much more than that. And it wouldn’t be fair to expect them to feel exactly the same as me, especially considering how intense my feelings are and that they don’t know me super well yet, but it still hurts a bit to think about. God. I’ve always had a problem with caring way WAY more about people I considered friends than they did about me, and it’s a little lonely. It makes me sad.

Anyway. Emotion vomit over

[hejanic]

t4t bunnies

[professor-pants]

Genre of character: submissive like a guard dog is submissive

[symphonyofsilence]

Let the poor man rest.

[liones-s]

a big lesson for me was learning that most things are not as fragile as I’d believed. missing a class, or turning in a bad assignment, won’t instantly destroy your professor’s opinion of you. accidentally saying something harsh won’t make your friend want to end the friendship. it takes work to repair these things - it takes effort and research and sometimes a sincere apology - but you can do that because they’re not irreparably broken. what you’ve worked to build, in academia and in relationships and in life, is stronger and more enduring that your mind may teach you to believe. don’t let imagined fragility lead you to giving up

[kedreeva]

There's some dude (derogatory) on FB who is PISSED people are pricing their farm fresh eggs at $2 and $3 a dozen instead of $4+, saying it's "disrespectful" and "undignified" and "I'm trying to feed my kids" like Sir, you are on a Facebook group page bitching about your neighbors egg prices because your pet chickens aren't earning you a living wage and you think it's your neighbors' fault, you do not have a leg to stand on here wrt dignity.

Also half the answers are like "I give them to friends and family free" or "I donate them to food banks" or "I'm making them affordable to folks who might not otherwise be able to get them now that they're so expensive in the store" and "if you think you're going to turn a profit keeping backyard chickens you have been wildly misled" and so on, and so forth, and I'm so living for it.

and I can tell you right now, he did NOT like my answer of "if you're trying to feed your kids, I hear eggs are edible."

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hey now, Let her cook!

[ciderjacks]

contracts written in blood

+

[jakeperalta]

I'm curious. what job would you do if money was no object (you just automatically had an income you could live comfortably on)? including work like volunteering, studying etc. please share in the tags :)