#conversee

[luvqbri]

love my blackout conversee

[kicktagious]

Hand painted the whole shoe. That’s some talent. 🖼 . Artist: @king_gludd_customz . . #kicktagious #converses #conversect2 #converse70s #converseonestar #converseacdc #converseblack #conversebundle #conversebr #conversedepok #conversedeckstar #conversediskon #conversedecorados #conversedenim #converseecuador #conversee #converseeyewear #converseerx #converseexclusiveforbershka #conversefetish #conversefashion #converseforminsk #conversefastbreak #conversefamily (at Charlotte, North Carolina) https://www.instagram.com/p/BsX7lzhD9De/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=3sj81sp5kvnd

[kickonfires-blog]

Off-White x Conversee Chuck Taylor

http://www.kickonfires.com/offwhite-x-conversee-chuck-taylor-p-2775.html

[kaapstadmk]

One of the many factors leading to me getting my ADHD diagnosis and my realization I'm likely autistic was exactly what you're saying.

I assumed that everyone struggled exactly to the same degree as I did, to manage their demands and tasks, because I always heard everyone grumble about it from their own perspective and my experience felt similar. I worked to reign in my distractibility, but I thought that was something everybody had to deal with.

Same thing for the autism questions regarding conversations and social skills:

Do I struggle with eye contact? No, not really. I've figured out exactly how much eye contact to give, so that my conversee feels heard and not creeped out by a dead stare.

Do I have trouble with nonverbal cues? No, I've pretty much figured out the patterns for most Anglo folks and can make a good extrapolation for the rest

Do I hold conversations abnormally? No, I've learned how most people expect conversations to flow and have learned to follow the conventions for best results

Do I have friends? Okay, this one, actually, gets me, because I have many acquaintances and work friends, but few close, personal friends.

I feel like I would have been diagnosed with OCD a lot earlier if the vast majority of screening questions (for mental illnesses in general) weren't based on the person's perception of their own behavior, in isolation. and what i mean by that is asking someone with OCD "do you wash your hands excessively?" is not a good question.

a person with OCD believes they are washing their hands the correct number of times. it's not excessive. we believe we're exhibiting best practices and helping to keep everything clean.

better questions might be, "does it seem like you wash your hands a lot more than your friends or family?" "do you get dry patches or cuts on your hands from washing your hands?" "do you find it deeply distressing, more so than how you've seen other people react, when you get something on your hands that you can't clean off right away?"

being asked "are you overly preoccupied with bugs, symmetry, and contamination?" also got "no" responses from me years ago in my life. what they didn't ask for, and didn't know, was what *exactly* I was doing in my day to day life that genuinely ate up my time and mental space to a concerning degree, but I *didn't know* that other people don't do this.

"do you spend a lot of time cleaning?" -> no, it's not a lot. it's a good amount. why?

"do you become frustrated because it seems like no one else meets your organizational and cleanliness standards - do you often 'take over' for other people because they can't do it right - do new friends seem surprised by how strict you can be about your living space?" -> oh. yeah. yeah I get it now.

[gayern-munchen]

I was tagged by @mrtslv @tonismadrid and @rmafangirl to do this thank you so much I love you all so much❤❤ coke or pepsi: coke disney or dreamworks: idk I can't choose coffee or tea: coffee I'm like an addict books or movies: in past times I would have said books but nowadays i never read so honestly movies windows or mac: mac dc or marvel: idk man xbox or playstation: playstation dragon age or mass effect: idk what this is lol night owl or early riser: BOTH AT THE SAME TIME I HATE MY LIFE cards or chess: cards chocolate or vanilla: if its ice cream then chocolate but otherwise vanilla vans or converse: conversee lavellan, trevelyan, cadash, or adaar: what fluff or angst: fluff I say as I am drowning in angsty fics and all I know how to fucking write is angst beach or forest: beaaach dogs or cats: dogs clear skies or rain: clear skies omg I hate rain with my entire life cooking or eating out: eating out I can't cook for SHIT spicy food or mild food: spicy halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: CHRISTMAS MY ONE TRUE LOVE would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: too hot I would rather die than spent my life a little too cold If you could have a superpower, what would it be: understand any languages or tele transportation or flying animation or live action: uh idk paragon or renegade: idk what this is baths or showers: I mean having a bath all the time must be great but showering is easy idk team cap or team ironman: i love both but in the most recent movies team cap fantasy or sci-fi: fantasy all the way do you have three or four favourite quotes? If so what are they? 1. It's better to burn out than to fade away 2. Keep your nose out the sky, keep your heart to god, and keep your face to the raising sun 3. Nowadays I walk over things I used to trip on 4. When thinking about life, remember this: no amount of guilt can change the past, and no amount of anxiety can change the future. youtube or netflix: both I refuse to choose harry potter or percy jackson: Harry Potter obvi when do you feel accomplished: when someone is proud and gives me approval star wars or star trek: I have only watch one Star Trek movie and never watched Star Wars so Star Trek I guess paperback books or hardback books: paperback horror or rom-com? rom com I usually cry with horror lmao to live in a world without literature or music: oh shit literature bc music is everything pastel colors or dark colors: both.. neither.. idk tv shows or movies: showsss city or countryside: city >>> If any other zodiac sign could describe you, what would it be: maybe if there was a mixture of gemini/Aries it could be sort of me If you could only listen to one album for the rest of your life what would it be? so hard omfg I'm just gonna say More Life by drake bc I'm currently fucking obsessed cinema or theatre? cinema If you could be any fictional character’s best friend, who’d you be? omfg idk maybe Stiles from teen wolf smiling or smirking? smiling but I smirk a lot when I'm being a bitch lol are you an ‘all or nothing’ type or are you more consistent? All or nothing I have never in my life been consistent with anything playlists or your whole library on shuffle? playlist my whole library is such a mess of genres travelling or staying at home? traveling always always always I hate being at home If you could have a meal with three people, alive and dead, who would you choose? Wow ok Tupac Shakur, Kendrick Lamar and Kurt Cobain not at the same time or anything just some big idols Favourite sports team? Fc Barcelona, Liverpool, Bayern, Arsenal, Juventus, NY Yankees, Navegantes del Magallanes fjsjah Paris or London? neither are my fav cities but I'd rather live in Paris I tag: @bayern-xo @emremcr @james-rodriquez @loriskariius21 @lucasleiva @satan-dowski @quepasamarcandre

[arlindogrund]

Millie Bobby Brown assina coleção para a Conversee

Millie Bobby Brown assina coleção para a Conversee

Com o sucesso da estreia da terceira temporada de ‘Stranger Things’, Millie Bobby Brown sai do mundo invertido direto para o da moda. 

A estrela da série desenvolveu uma coleção de sneakers em parceria com a Converse que tem tudo a ver com seu estilo jovem, moderno e divertido. Chamada ‘Millie By You’, ela conta com três novas versões do modelo Chuck Taylor All Star em 10 combinações de cores e…

[she---dreams]

I caught myself thinking about you again today. We both knew how cocky you were. Your Dutch ways were “incomparable and almighty”. You were the world’s most beloved pothead, although you swore left to right that you weren’t a pothead–just a typical weed-smoking Dutchy. Even though I never said it, you were my favorite. 

I remember the night you were high before the morning you got home. You said, “Look! I did this.” You turned around and pulled your drawstrings down. It made it look like you had a tail because you had your sweatpants on backward. I couldn’t catch my breath because I was laughing so hard. You were such a goof that I adored you miraculously. We were opposites, but you know how they say we attract, you and I. 

Then there was the time you impatiently waited to see me, but I wasn’t ready yet. You know how I take my time. You eventually said, “Hurry up!” I sat and stared blankly nowhere in particular and said nonchalantly, “But I’m not even Russian.” You had your signature smirk on your face when you said, “Alright. I’ll give you ten extra seconds for that one.” I would always try so hard to keep a straight face just so you couldn’t indulge in satisfactory of knowing that you could always sentence me to a fit of laughter. I could never hold back. I never wanted to, so I’m glad I never did. I just couldn’t stand it whenever I’d laugh and you’d say, “I love that laugh.” My insides would catch on fire. You made me comfortably vulnerable. I didn’t have to tell you that I liked you because you always knew. 

Your keen sense of intelligence was just a gem on you too. You were one of those successful “not a pothead” potheads that really knew your sh*t. (sorry for the explicitness). Even though you skipped 106 days of class, you managed to be so knowledgeable of everything. Never once did you answer with, “I don’t know.” It was almost always, “Here’s the way Jasper The Great sees it..” I’d brace myself for the least bonafide BS that was bound to happen next. You explained time travel to me once. I was so mesmerized even hours later. You had such a profound sense of wonder that it gave way to my undying admiration of you. I loved being around you. You were my favorite co-conversee at 2 PM and again at 2AM. 

You told me that you were Jewish-Dutch after two years. It was so ironic because you’d always say you were “führer”. But, nothing you said could ever be taken as offensive because you were always so warmly lighthearted. Nobody had me in the palms of their hands quite like you did. You always brought the best puns out of me. When you told me you were of Jewish descent, I had to pop, “I always knew you were Jewcy.” My goodness. Your laughter melted me on the spot. It became my favorite sound for the longest. Your chin dimpled whenever you laughed. I just wanted to keep that smile on your face for always. You were like warmth on the coldest day of the year. 

I’ll never forget the night you looked at me and said, “Leah? Can I ask you something?” I remember the way my heart beat wildly outside of my chest–you had to have heard it–when I looked at you and said, “You can always ask me anything.” You asked, “Do you like me?” I could see the fearful child hiding behind your eyes. I wanted with all my heart to just wrap you up in the warmest embrace because I could feel how afraid you were of what my answer might be. For a moment I silently asked, “My goodness. Who hurt you? How could they?” But, I understand how rejection is something we are all fearful of, but a fool is what I be if I hadn’t liked you. Jasper, I was in love with you. Similarly to you though, I was afraid of all the uncontrollable emotions I felt when it came to you. You made me feel everything all at once–it was all so overwhelming at times–but I was happy. I wanted you in every single way there is to want a person. 

“Just have a little more confidence in yourself, Princess. You’d be queen of the world if only you had the confidence you deserve.” Goodness. You sent the butterflies in my stomach soaring every time you’d call me “Princess”. It’s such an overused nickname, but you gave it to me. You made me feel precious to you. I’ll never forget the way you could pull me from the saddest of thoughts with one stupid, cheesy nickname. God, you always had a way with me.

You always said I played “hard-to-get”. No, you were just another victim of my deception. Little did you know that you were all I could see. I’m still finding you in the middle of every line of every song I’ve ever loved. I still get the urge to call you and tell you about the crazy thing I did today. Good or bad, I had to tell you everything because I wanted you to know that I wanted you in my life, and I wish with all my heart that you could have stayed.

It’s 3 AM right now, and I’m reminiscing the time you flattered yourself when I said that if I ever had a son, I’d name him Jasper. You teased, “Who’s the daddy?” I could see you climbing that high horse of yours, so I said, “James Deen,” with tons of pleasure. Verbally drop-kicking you was my favorite.

I  remember how envious you were of my writing. You loved reading some of the things I wrote. It’s funny because normally whenever someone would try to read something of mine, I’d snatch the paper from them or hastily close my laptop. But, you weren’t just a somebody to me. Having had you as my one and only admirer meant a lot to me. You remarked that you wish you could write what you felt in such a way that I could. I should have told you that you were your very own emotion. You were like the rush of a roller coaster mixed with the warmth of a summer night spent with your favorite people in the entire world. You’re the kind of someone that could make anyone happy to be alive. You’re something I cherished in this world. You were a jewel.

I often think back to the night we listened to “Day Tripper” by The Beatles. That’s when you Johnny Lennoned me for the first time ever. You said, “You remind me of this quote about dreamers by a good friend of many named John. Yoko would have hated you.” I wanted to punch you so badly for making me blush. I still wonder if you ever told anybody back home about me. I know well enough that you kept to yourself more than anything. I was more than likely a secret with the potential of being told, but I wouldn’t be offended if you hadn’t told anyone. Some people keep their treasures hidden. But, for me, you weren’t a treasure. You were like solid ground after flying for the first time. You were the feeling of happiness and warmth bundled into a being, and they named you Jasper.  For someone I knew for three years in comparison to some of the people I’ve known all my life, you were the one who felt like home. That’s what has made it so hard for me to let you go. You smiled every time you saw me–”There’s that face I don’t ever get to see nearly enough,”– and we could have built a life on that. 

I’m not sure what happened to you. I don’t know exactly why you left me in the way you did, but I can’t be angry with you. I understand you far too much, even in the absence of an explanation. You were my best friend, and for a myriad of reasons, you were my soul mate too. I hope that you think of me whenever you listen to the Red Hot Chili Peppers or see the silhouette of a curly-headed girl because everything in my world binds you to the surface of thoughts. I still believe that there’s telepathy between hearts. In the years we spent getting to know each other, I knew that I found someone worth opening up my heart to. You weren’t as much of an open book as I was, but that only made me adore the rare moments where you’d give me a glimpse of what it was really like inside your world. The best compliment you ever gave me was when you said I was someone you felt comfortable around. I should have told you how precious our friendship was to me–perhaps we could have had a little more time together–but I was afraid of overwhelming you. I feel everything so wildly beyond my control. It’s both a blessing and a curse to feel as much as I do. I wanted so much to be like snow–beautiful but cold–but then you came into view and made me realize that I’m softhearted for a reason.

You never said goodbye (I’ll never tell you how much I cried that day). I’m guessing it’s because it wouldn’t have been the kind of goodbye that effortlessly rolls off your tongue. Instead, it would have been the kind that catches and chokes in the back of your throat and tastes like sadness and regret–the kind that aches as if all those butterflies that were fluttering around inside you just died all at once–the kind of goodbye you should never say to someone you care about. 

I know that if you were still here, you’d try to persuade me to move on like you did the time you told me, “..but you could do so much better than me.” Little did you know that your heart shimmered with gold.

I’m surprised that it’s been a year and that I’ve made it this far. I’m shocked to be alive still because you damn near killed me. The night it happened was absolute hell for me. Every time I closed my eyes to try to stop the pain, you were all I could see. My heart would immediately shatter because I knew you were gone, not  gone for now, but gone for good. I may never know why you left me, but I can’t linger on the endless reasons why. They were all beginning to tear me apart. I’m not making up excuses for you, but I know that you had no intentions on breaking my heart, just like I had no intentions on falling for you (What a pleasure it was though because there was nobody else I would’ve rather my heart broken by). Isn’t it funny how life doesn’t care how much of a pure and honest heart you have?

You helped show me what I need to feel to know when I’m in love. Being soulmates is something we always joked about, but I know that you believed for a moment that we were. Now I understand why many people spend their lives in search of a soulmate because when you realize that you’ve found a soulmate, no other feeling can compete. In that moment, every heartache and every smile–the universe itself-finally makes sense. You brought so much depth and happiness to my world without meaning to.  You gave the the warmest sensation that made my heart yearn for more. Just know that it was you all along who had a hold on my heart.

–

I know what an amazing lawyer you’re on your way to be right now. I loved talking about the future with you. I could listen to you go on for hours because your ambitions were so profound and hilarious even. I tried not to picture myself in yours, so I always saw you in mine instead. Every doctor needs a lawyer and vice versa, right? Dreaming was the only way I saw it happen. I guess I know now you didn’t mean it, but whenever you’d fantasize about the two of us living under the same roof of some wonderful townhouse apartment, I’d get excited. You would have been a wonderful partner, and I’m sure you still are. You and I wouldn’t have gotten anything accomplished because we’d be fighting over your “penne” panini* sandwiches. Of course you’d automatically win because you were Dutch–just like you would always say. I still can’t believe that none of this is ever going to happen. It’s funny because back then, you never felt out of reach, but now we’re just some strangers with memories. I wish I knew what happened, but even with you not here, you’re still trying to protect me. But, I hope you know that what you did wasn’t fair to me. You should’ve told me goodbye so I could have proper closure instead of trying to tough it out on my own. I know that as time continues on, my pain will continue to subside, but I won’t ever forget how crazy I was about you or about your dryly sarcastic heart of gold. 

I hope the girl of your dreams knows how lucky she is to have you making her sides hurt from too much laughter, as well as making her one too many “penne” panini* bread sandwiches. I’m still laughing at your sandwich seriousness. I have a feeling she’ll be grateful, but just in case she forgets, let her know how lucky she is. You always made conceitedness look attractive anyways.

I hope you always remember our ironically lovable yet mostly playful mechanisms to flipping each other off too. I would have never admitted to this either, but I loved when you put me in my place. You always did it so smoothly and made me agree with you, most importantly. You grounded me, and I softened you. I know I aggravated you with my indecisiveness, but you would always say, “Don’t worry. I couldn’t ever be mad at you.” Goodness. I miss you more than I can bear to stand right now. It’d be really heart-warming to hear you say, “F*ck you, too,” with your soft Dutch accent. I hope you also remember the time you got me to say “paard” (Dutch for horse) only to laugh at me as soon as I said it! You said, “It’s funny because you sounded just like the Northern Dutch do. They’re weird, but then again, so are you.” I could have drop-kicked you to Africa. – The time we shared, it was precious to me. 

Our time together was short. Three years wasn’t long enough. We were never anything but friends, but there was always something more that I felt. We weren’t in love (together), but I believe with all my heart that we could have been. Knowing that we could have been is what hurts the most.

I’ve promised myself that this time will be the last time I stay up all night writing about you anymore, and I plan on keeping it this time because my eyes and heart are both drained. Moving on from you has been a constant battle.

I know that our paths probably won’t ever cross again. But, someone once said that it’s a mark of maturity when we try to understand those who’ve hurt us. I just hope the universe lets you know that I miss you unfathomably. You will forever feel like a winning lottery ticket to me.   And yes, I know that there shall be others. The most ironic thing is that years from now, I’ll probably stay up late just to tell my futuristic mchottie about you. He’ll probably be really aggravated or jealous during the length of my babble ‘bout you, but I’m thinking that most of all, he’ll be happy that you let go of me.

–

“I hope you don’t mind that I put into words how wonderful life is with you in my world.”

—-   

I’m sharing this for a multitude of reasons; one is to be an example for those whose hearts are broken just like mine was and for those who may not have any idea what to do now. To quote the wonderful Olivia Newton-John, “Guess mine is not the first heart broken,” and neither is yours. I’m not here to lecture and say that he or she isn’t worth the heartache. Pretending not to care only sets you up for prolonged nights spent lying awake on a tear-drenched pillow. Don’t bottle these things up inside. Let it all out. I believe that there’s therapy in crying. What therapist tells you to stop crying? None. They whip out the boxes of tissues. Crying is your body’s way of reacting to something that is completely natural–an overwhelming array of feelings. Don’t forget that we sometimes cry when we’re happy too. But if you’d rather not sit in your bedroom with Coldplay on repeat, you can talk to people. Talk their ears off–it doesn’t have to be about what’s weighing on your heart heavily. I like to talk about weird things like Tumblr posts that send me to the hospital because I’ve been laughing too much that I can’t breathe. My favorite is to grab a helium balloon and suck the life out of it and then spit some words. I personally like to imitate Donald Trump with my helium induced vocals. Most importantly, don’t give up. Whether you knew this person for two weeks or eight years, it doesn’t matter. When a relationship ends, it hurts. It might feel like the end of the world, but you can choose to look at it as the beginning of something amazing. Never stop believing that something wonderful is about to happen. 

[kaapstadmk]

All good thoughts mentioned so far.

A couple other things I want to add/reiterate

The aspect of "everyone else can do it, so I should be able to as well" hits hard. I didn't think to ask for help, often, because I didn't see others asking for help

Another aspect goes down to communication. In my experience, I've had a lot of frustrating situations in which I've given a task to someone else and they either did not do it the way I wanted, or I wasted both of our times and emotional energy backseat driving/micro-managing, to make sure it was done to my satisfaction. So, to spare everyone, I'll just do it myself, instead.

An aspect of this that bites me in the ass often is another flavor of the latter, wherein, after one question from my conversee, I begin to systematically detail my train of thought or accumulated knowledge connections, because I can't just give a simple answer 🤦🏼‍♂️

The effect of this is either being perceived as mansplaining or assuming my conversee is ignorant.

Totally a theory of mind issue, but yeah

I realized the other day that the reason I didn't watch much TV as a teenager (and why I'm only now catching up on late aughts/early teens media that I missed), is because I literally didn't understand how to use our TV. My parents got a new system, and it had three remotes with a Venn diagram of functions. If someone left the TV on an unfamiliar mode, I didn't know how to get back to where I wanted to be, so I just stopped watching TV on my own altogether.

I explained all this to my therapist, because I didn't know if this was more related to my then-unnoticed autism, or to my relationship with my parents at the time (we had issues less/unrelated to neurodivergency). She told me something interesting.

In children's autism assessments, a common test is to give them a straightforward task that they cannot reasonably perform, like opening an overtight jar. The "real" test is to see, when they realize that they cannot do it on their own, if they approach a caregiver for help. Children that do not seek help are more likely to be autistic than those that do.

This aligns with the compulsory independence I've noticed to be common in autistic adults, particularly articulated by those with lower support needs and/or who were evaluated later in life. It just genuinely does not occur to us to ask for help, to the point that we abandon many tasks that we could easily perform with minor assistance. I had assumed it was due to a shared common social trauma (ie bad experiences with asking for help in the past), but the fact that this trait is a childhood test metric hints at something deeper.

My therapist told me that the extremely pathologizing main theory is that this has something to do with theory of mind, that is doesn't occur to us that other people may have skills that we do not. I can't speak for my early childhood self, or for all autistic people, but I don't buy this. Even if I'm aware that someone else has knowledge that I do not (as with my parents understanding of our TV), asking for help still doesn't present itself as an option. Why?

My best guess, using only myself as a model, is due to the static wall of a communication barrier. I struggle a lot to make myself understood, to articulate the thing in my brain well enough that it will appear identically (or at least close enough) in somebody else's brain. I need to be actively aware of myself and my audience. I need to know the correct words, the correct sentence structure, and a close-enough tone, cadence, and body language. I need draft scripts to react to possible responses, because if I get caught too off guard, I may need several minutes to construct an appropriate response. In simple day-to-day interactions, I can get by okay. In a few very specific situations, I can excel. When given the opportunity, I can write more clearly than I am ever capable of speaking.

When I'm in a situation where I need help, I don't have many of my components of communication. I don't always know what my audience knows. I don't have sufficient vocabulary to explain what I need. I don't know what information is relevant to convey, and the order in which I should convey it. I don't often understand the degree of help I need, so I can come across inappropriately urgent or overly relaxed. I have no ability to preplan scripts because I don't even know the basic plot of the situation.

I can stumble though with one or two deficiencies, but if I'm missing too much, me and the potential helper become mutually unintelligible. I have learned the limits of what I can expect from myself, and it is conceptualized as a real and physical barrier. I am not a runner, so running a 5k tomorrow does not present itself as an option to me. In the same way, if I have subconscious knowledge that an interaction is beyond my capability, it does not present itself as an option to me. It's the minimum communication requirements that prevent me from asking for help, not anything to do with the concept of help itself.

Maybe. This is the theory of one person. I'm curious if anyone else vibes with this at all.

[stephanyp-c]

Outfit

[itsbeenawhilesinceweflowlast]

Outfit unter We Heart It.

[tobysbliss]

i loove red conversee. best shoes fr

i now own 3 pairs of red converse. theyre like my signature shoes at this point

[goodvibespositivemind]

[0give-me-love0]

Outfit na We Heart It - http://weheartit.com/entry/128258485

[hibouchoustyle]

Outfit sur We Heart It.

[happy-wanderluster-blog]

[maaartusiaa]

Outfit na We Heart It - http://weheartit.com/entry/128258485