#you have internet love from me a virtual stranger

[shtish]

Okay I'm off to do some cleaning... Send me your album recs so I've got some music to clean to?

[uncreativeuser27]

22 hours later lmao (my longest drawing ever)…

This is based on a K2 idea I’ve had a while, but only seen written once or twice (I think)

For an idea that came out of nowhere, I sure do have a lot to say about it lmao. Please show any appreciation you have with comments, likes, reblogs, ANYTHING. I BEG of you, I have no one to show this to in real life, and I’m scared of strangers in the internet /hj /lh

More information and ranting under the cut if you want to hear a sad, pathetic artist out /j

Basically, it’s how they decide to close off their roleplay game: with a wedding to unite the two kingdoms! That wedding being between King Kyle and Princess Kenny. I imagine they tweaked the story as they got older (yes, they’re older in this drawing, if you can’t tell from their designs and Stan’s blond hair. They’re nothing that pisses this fandom off more than shipping children when they’re children lmao /hj)

Small headcanon for a high school AU: They end up doing a lot of tabletop roleplay (like their own spin on DnD), for big events like this, they will go back to their roots of LARPing.

I had an idea while drawing it that Stan and Cartman formed a bet about if Kyle would actually kiss Kenny or not. The concept is based on the idea that Kyle has a crush on Kenny and Stan thinks it would be a perfectly romantic way to confess, but Cartman thinks it would be too gay and that Kyle would never ruin something like that. I’ve been watching the show starting from the first season, and I remembered how much Cartman would go through to win a bet (and also how many bets were formed, which was a surprising amount), so it seemed fitting

Stan wins the bet. Obviously.

I just haven’t figured out how I’d want to write it, so I might write something if I can flesh it out well enough.

A few drawing comments about this, uhh. I totally traced the gazebo lmao. I found a random photograph of a gazebo that looked like they were selling it, and I tried to free hand it, but after an hour, I just gave up and traced it. Don’t hate me, please. I promise I’m not a fraud. I just suck at perspective and backgrounds :’) it’s also my second drawing with a genuine background (that isn’t abstract or barely detailed). Also, the sunset was such a last minute decision. The sky was supposed to be blue, but that felt boring, and I LOVE dramatic lighting

I think that’s all. Please tell me about my art. This took forever, and I have 0 friends that I can show this to in real life without getting weird looks, so if you have any thoughts at all, you can tell me. I’m on my virtual hands and KNEES /hj

(Yes, Kenny’s wig fell off)

[joelmillersdumbslut]

I took your matches before fire could catch me

(joel miller x f!reader) 18+ part one

summary: Who knew meeting Joel Miller on a dating app would turn into the world's worst first date? (no outbreak. no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (minors do NOT interact) warnings (for this chapter): age gap (reader is in late 20's, joel is mid 50's), dirty talk, pet names, fingering, dubious consent, p in v sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, drinking, hand kink, referenced cheating, degradation, angst, orgasm delay/denial. word count: 2.4k a/n: this is my first ever fic, please be gentle :')) a03 link

Another Friday night with a bottle of wine and shitty reality tv to keep you company. It suddenly hits you. Pangs of loneliness. You’re nearly 28 years old and you’re destined for the single life. Relationships never seem to last with you, or at least make it past the honeymoon phase. You take a sip straight from the bottle as you curse the boys who pretend to be men. The ones who’ve fucked you over, the ones who “aren’t ready for a relationship” after declaring their love for you and fucking you for six months, but will change their status and post a picture on Facebook with their arms wrapped around a new woman days after your breakup. When will it be your turn?

You’re soon drunk enough to make questionable decisions. You download that new dating app your friends keep gushing about. Lily. You tap on your phone screen, a picture of a flower loading up with the catchphrase “Are you ready for your love to bloom?” You groan at that alone, tempted to turn right around and delete the app already. But, something inside you tugs at you to give it a try anyway. You upload pictures, some selfies, some with friends, some candids at the beach, at a concert, at the park. Your bio is hard to come up with though. How can you use 400 characters to describe yourself to a stranger? You settle with including your name, a generic title of your occupation, some of your hobbies, and ending it with an open invitation for drinks. There. Easy enough, right?

Now, it’s time to swipe. Apparently when you like someone’s profile, you send them a virtual flower. A lily, to be exact. In order to message someone, they have to send you a lily back. You start to wonder if this app can get any cornier when your first profile appears in the queue. He’s an older man. 56 to be exact. You don’t remember setting an age limit, but you’re intrigued by his handsome appearance. His dark hair appears to be graying, his brown eyes sinking into you from beyond the screen. You swipe through his profile. He has nothing written so you have to guess his personality and hobbies from the pictures alone. There’s a picture of him with a teenage girl. Maybe his daughter? Another one of him playing guitar. Maybe he likes music. Maybe he’s a rockstar. He looks rugged enough to be one. A picture of him sitting at a table in red flannel with a beer in hand, a small smile emerging from behind his facial hair. He’s… hot. And too old for you. Fuck it. You send him a lily. Then you throw your phone down and pace all night wondering if he’ll send you one back.

In the morning, you're matched with Joel.

—

You ask Joel out for drinks. Immediately within your first message. All the dating advice given to you by the Internet says not to wait. Get to know someone as fast as possible for best results. No time to get attached if it doesn’t work out. You’re not much of a texter anyway, so you ask him if he wants to grab some beers at your favorite dive bar. You hate beer. You hate dive bars. But, you’d be willing to drink a thousand pale ales if it meant you got to share this attractive man’s air supply.

Joel simply says, “Yes.”

—

You realize you stand out at the bar. And not in a good way. You wanted to wear something to reflect your personality. So, you picked out a baby pink bodycon dress that stops at the middle of your thighs. You paired it with your favorite white ankle strap heels. Perfect for a night club. Not for meeting a middle aged dad at a dive bar. You decided you’d worry about that later.

You’re early. Like always. You belly up to the bar, unsure of what to order. You assume they don’t have your favorite brand of white wine, so you ask for your dad’s go-to. Whiskey on the rocks. It’s bitter, and you begin to gag as a man comes up behind you, resting his hand on the small of your back. The smell of sandalwood and dirt pierces your nostrils. You turn to see Joel. He’s wearing jeans and that red flannel from his picture.

“I like women who can hold their liquor,” he states, looking you up and down.

“Well, that’s not me,” you wince, eager to change the subject. “You must be Joel?”

You choose to go for a hug, he holds out his hand instead. The two of you stare at each other, reaching a stalemate, the jukebox in this shitty ass bar blasting a country song you hate. You shake his hand. Noticing his fingers are rough, calloused, and thick. Probably from the guitar playing. Maybe he really is a rockstar.

You sit down on the bar stool, crossing your legs as best as you can. It’s probably not wise to flash a man on the first date. Joel requests a beer from the bartender, and the two of you look anywhere but each other. You start to ask questions.

“So. You play guitar?”

“Yeah.”

“What music do you play?”

“All kinds.”

“Okay. What’s your favorite song to play?”

“Don’t know.”

You pound back your whiskey, slam the glass on the counter, and motion the bartender for another.

“Is that your daughter in your picture?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s her name?”

“Sarah.”

“Oh, that’s nice. How old is she?”

“Sixteen.”

“Cool. You a single dad then?”

“Yeah.”

You squint at him. This is worse than pulling teeth without Novocain. You decide to launch the ball into his court.

“So. Is there anything you wanna know about me?”

“Yeah, actually. Ain’t you the one who fucked Tommy? While he was still married?”

Your skin ignited. The wind completely knocked out of you. How does he know about… that? How does he know about the guy you slept with one time in college? And even worse, does he know how much you enjoyed the affair, even though you ruined that guy’s marriage and, ostensibly, the rest of his life?

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” you muse, trying to keep your cool.

Joel slams the beer bottle on the counter, its contents flying out the neck and hitting your dress. You stand up, wobbly deer in headlights.

“How do you know?” is all you can whisper.

“Because he’s my brother.”

Tears began welling up in your eyes, your hands shaking. “I was 21, I didn’t know any better.”

“Whatever.” Joel says, turning away from you.

You grab your purse and sprint to the bathroom. Congratulations, you’ve just set a new record for the world's worst first date.

—

You stare in the mirror. Tears streaming down your face. Your makeup is ruined. You’ve accepted that. You’re so angry that this old memory is bubbling up to the surface. The one you’ve tried so hard to push down for the past six years. You met Tommy at a bar while out with your college friends. You noticed the wedding ring, the framed photos on the walls of his living room, but you fucked him anyways. And you left your underwear behind for his wife to find. You enjoyed every moment of it. You even got off to the memories of that one night stand for months after the fact. You’re a goddamn monster. You’ve accepted that.

But, what you can’t accept is that Joel just ruined your favorite dress.

You take a deep breath between sobs, scrounging through your purse for a Xanax. The bathroom door is kicked open, and you turn to yell at the intruder to get out.

But, it’s Joel.

You stare at him with a blank expression while he locks the door behind him. Something you were too distressed to do.

“What are you doing?” you whisper. “Haven’t you had enough from humiliating me in public?”

“No,” he exhales.

Joel quickly shoves you up against the wall. Your purse and its belongings clatter against the dirty floor. You gulp as his left arm leans against the wall, the other reaching up to caress your cheek.

“What was it like?” he asks.

“What was... what like?” you counter.

“Don’t get smart with me.”

You feel like you should be scared. But, you’re not. If anything, you’re super turned on right now while the brother of the man you had an affair with all those years ago begins to fondle you in the bathroom of a dive bar.

Joel’s right hand grabs your breast, he toys with it while staring into your eyes. You can’t help but moan and he pinches harder.

“Answer me,” he growls.

“It was… It was stupid. I was a dumb college girl and what I did was wrong.”

“Then, why’d you do it?”

You swallow. His hand moves down, brushing against your stomach, heading towards the hem of your dress.

“Is this how you treat every girl on the first date? Corner her and interrogate her li-li-like a creep?” you try to sound venomous, but your words are shaky. He notices.

“You can leave any time you want, babygirl.”

The word “babygirl” causes a sensation to ripple through your core. You feel a wetness spreading between your thighs. What the fuck is wrong with you?

You finally answer, “I just wanted his attention. I’ve always liked… Older men.”

Joel pauses, his hand hovering over your thighs. He meets your gaze again.

“Do you now?”

Then he pounces. Before you can even comprehend what’s happening, his fingers are inside your underwear, rubbing your clit. Your head hangs forward as you moan against his touch.

“That what you sounded like when Tommy touched you?”

“N-no,” you sputter, your hips bucking up involuntarily.

“I wanna hear what you sounded like.”

Joel spins you around so you’re facing the wall now, his fingers still groping your pussy. He hikes up your dress and pulls your underwear to the side.

“Wh-why do you wanna hear? You a pervert?” you shoot back at him, but your body betrays you and a gush of wetness secretes from between your thighs.

“You’re a naughty fuckin’ girl, you know that?” Joel mutters in your ear. You hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, something prodding against your back. Something big.

“Someone needs to teach you a lesson,” he adds, his fingers now tracing your entrance.

“For what? Fucking your brother? Sounds like someone’s jealous,” you spit. “Like you can still get it up anyway.”

And with that, Joel’s fingers pound into you, a whine fleeing your throat. It hurts at first, but the enjoyment you’re experiencing is quickly overpowering. You shudder at the way his fingers glide in and out of you at a rapid pace.

“Too quiet,” Joel grumbles, biting at your neck. “I wanna hear what you sounded like.”

“You wanna hear me? I’ll make sure everybody in the fucking bar hears me,” you hiss back at him and begin to wail with pleasure.

You quickly feel a pressure growing inside your lower belly. You feel startled, your hands grasping against the wall for anything to hold onto.

“Did Tommy make you cum like this?” Joel whispers in your ear.

You shake your head violently. How does this man know you’re so close already?

“Wanna hear you, babygirl.”

Fuck. There it is again.

You moan Joel’s name as loud as you physically can while your body tenses up and you ultimately surrender to its release. You glance in the mirror on the other side of the room. Watching yourself get finger fucked by this strange old man in a bar bathroom sends you over the edge. What kind of person have you turned into?

Before you can even catch your breath, you feel the tip of his cock plunging into you. You let out a yelp, and you feel Joel’s hand on top of yours. He’s still covered in your cum, and his fingers interlace with yours.

“If you can fuck Tommy, you can take daddy’s cock.”

Your eyes are nearly bulging out of your fucking skull. You try to distract yourself from how turned on you are, how your pussy is already throbbing for more. Especially at the mere mention of Joel calling himself, “daddy.”

“Daddy, huh? You really are a pervert,” you cough as Joel pushes into you.

“You need to be punished,” is all he says. You feel his cock sitting inside you, but Joel doesn’t move. You start whining, rocking your hips back and forth in an attempt to get friction, something, anything. Joel’s hands are immediately on your hips, forcing you to sit still.

“You ruined my favorite dress, the least you can do is make me cum,” you snap at him, squirming in place.

“And you ruined my brother’s life, the least you can do is take your punishment like a good girl.”

This was the most you’d heard him speak all evening. Was he really this hung up on something that happened years ago? And not even directly to him?

Before you can unleash another quip, a heavy groan escapes Joel as he begins to pump relentlessly. Guess he had enough of trying to punish you too.

“You’re a brat, you know that?” he snarls, his fingers digging into your hips again, bruises already forming underneath your soft skin.

“I always get what I want,” you murmur, feeling the pressure building inside you again. Your body starts clenching down on his, you begin to pant against the wall. You’re so fucking close.

“Don’t think so, babygirl,” Joel grunts, quickly pulling out.

Instinctively, you whine, and are about to call him a two pump chump when you realize he’s cumming all over your back. His sticky essence dripping down your skin. Your pussy throbs, dissatisfied with the neglect he gave you. Turning around, you see his pants already buckled again and he’s taking off his flannel, tossing it at you. Before you can process what is happening, you glance in the mirror realizing there are now not only beer stains, but also cum stains all over your favorite dress. You catch the shirt in your hands and stand there, mouth agape, as Joel leaves the restroom in a huff.

—

[dailyrandomwriter]

Day 745

When the public service announcements first came out on TV, warning folks about phishing scams and other ways unsavoury folks may try to use to get your banking information via email my parents, ever the responsible and loving, warned both my sister and me about the internet dangers.

I didn’t have the heart to tell my parents I had already learnt about phishing scams

When I was 15 years old on the virtual pet site, Neopets.

Cause you know… that’s a weird thing to let your parents know.

The worst part about that fact though is that, even in context, it doesn’t get any less strange. If anything, context makes the whole fact even stranger.

How much stranger?

For starters, Neopets launched in 1999; while online banking had existed before then, the general public wouldn’t start buying into online banking until after 2000, (thanks to the Y2K scare). Even after 2000, the uptick in both domestic and business use of online banking was not fast. At the age of 21, 6 years after Neopets launched, I still needed to get a cheque book, because paying large sums of money for things (like my insurance provider) didn't happen online. As a result, needing to teach children about phishing scams in that era, was way before its time.

But the folks at Neopets had to, because for whatever reason, the site had a scamming problem.

This is where it gets really, really weird, even for me. Logically, I suspect the reason why Neopets had scamming problems in the first place was due to the conflict between their player demographics. The site was (originally) designed to be absolutely free to play, and safe for children. Their original demographic was probably the ages between 9-12 years, with the children needing at least a 3rd to 4th grade level reading in order to keep up with what was going on around the site.

However, their primary demographic was probably closer to my age at the time, 14 to 16 years old. You can kind of tell this, if you’ve ever read the old Neopian Times newsletters, which were filled with site updates, but also stories, comics and art made by the members of the Neopets community. The quality of the work suggested that many players were of an older age range. Old enough to know how to use html coding (which was commonly used for websites) and old enough that the dishonest ones were going to try and scam the younger players out of their stuff.

Still, it always boggled my mind that anyone would go through the effort to scam players out of their accounts. It got so bad that Neopets at one point started implementing account confirmation techniques, like the site showing you your last active pet to re-confirm that you’re on the Neopets website and not a phishing site. A technique that banks would use for a small while by asking you to choose a picture they would then show you, to confirm that you’re on your bank’s website.

As a result, the folks at Neopets for a long while had to put out their own PSAs about how to spot a phishing scam and other types of scams. So there’s now a whole generation of Neopet players who are careful (I hope ) of phishing scams and the like, because they were taught to be from a virtual pet game, due to players scamming other players.

A fact that will never stop being funny to me.

[erathene]

thanks for that post. 10 years of medical training, humiliation and exams, followed by lack of employment due to cutbacks to healthcare, just so I can read your reblogged little post about how doctors say they know everything and humiliate patients. And the notes about how all doctors do is tell people they're fat. Which of course is the truth 100% of the time. Right. Great. Good to know nothing I ever did amounted to anything, that my own generation hates me. Thanks for that, thanks for the anxiety attack, for making me cry on the bus home, you shitbrick. There's no good doctors, mate, you're absolutely right. This doesn't hurt anyone, we don't try to go into this field because we care, because we want to help. We just want power and money, right? Because we're famously overpaid, us the doctors? True, right? Love and peace. I wish you the best. I'm going to fucking kill myself

Uhh. Okay, let's address a few things here.

I did not make the post. I reblogged it because it resonated with my own personal experience of being a woman, approaching doctors with my health problems, and feeling like I wasn't being taken seriously.

I apologise if the post caused you to have an anxiety attack in a public place, that was not my intention and perhaps I should have reblogged it with better tags.

However, at no point did I say that all doctors tell people they're fat, at no point did I say that doctors are overpaid, at no point did I say doctors want power or money. I merely related to the post content, as I said, due to my own personal experience.

It sounds like you've been having a tough day (or week/month/year). I'm really sorry my post hurt you and the last thing I would want is for you to kill yourself. If you're in a bad place, please please seek help from your friends or family, or from the many good organisations out there that help people with suicidal thoughts. Failing that, feel free to come off anon and talk to me, a stranger on the Internet. I will happily offer you a shoulder to cry on and a virtual hug, because everyone deserves to be supported.

I have deleted the post from my blog, and I apologise again.

[meraki-yao]

It's nearly 2am here, I just finished a God-forsaken medical report and have a presentation tomorrow early morning, but I just really, really want to say this.

Thank you.

Fucking thank you so much to those who sent me comments and messages under my vent post from last night.

I really wrote that in a fit, I didn't really expect anything to come from it and to delete it in the morning.

Waking up to encouragement and support from people on the internet, all kind and understanding, all from strangers of different ages and countries, was such a surprise.

The thought that people across the globe who just happen to love the same movie as me, who don't know me took the time to read my venting and type a response... I'm just so grateful

I don't have it in me to reply to all of you individually, I would if I could, but to everyone who showed me love, I'm sending the biggest, warmest virtual hug I can.

Thank you so, so damn much.

@alittlefrenchtree @vmcgmidlifecrisis @shadegarden  @lfg1986-2

@rockingtheorange @bsloths

[denticulate-blooms]

Edit: Screw it, I'm keeping it going til I hit the bank around 3pm ET tomorrow July 3, lets keep this torch lit through the darkness and get this goal met! (And no I am not copying Mishas "YARD SALE" shenanigans [affectionate].)

Oh man, I am blown away and humbled by people's generosity. Rosie's Lemonade stand where all proceeds will go to #MishaCollins #Deming efforts in #Ukraine through http://donorbox.org/collins_demining was able to raise 103$(But wait theres more!) 45$ came from our neighbors, several of whom were happy to hear about the fundraiser and take a Ukranian flag with the above URL written on it, watching kids get interested in ways to make then world a better place was especially gratifying. 61$ came from people both friends and internet strangers who are now friends in my eyes (Emily, Audrey, Michael, Soraya and Amanda) who all bought "virtual lemonades" from Rosie which I offered to match 5$ for any donation receipt, ya'll really came through so if we add my 25$ to this I'm just going to round it up and say you lovely people collectively raised 135$ to help make the world a better, safer place. I'm gonna buy myself a whole gallon, this 100°f+ was brutal, ice packs abounded but watching Rosie embrace kindness without the expectation of reward is heart-rendingly beautiful (she *is* getting a special present though!) and so worth the heat. To her, just having the lemonade stand and helping people made her Tooth Fairy wish come true. Makes me feel like we're doing something right as parents. I also want to thank my steadfast husband without whom we could never have pulled this off. Feeling like the luckiest wife, mom, friend and neighbor on the planet right now! I'll post the receipt of donation after we deposit the cash portion tomorrow (so many of ya'll still use pennies!!). Thankful. Exhausted. Heat-stroke? Maybe...but Happy. #SlavaUkraini Misha Collins

[lousyglitch]

about twitter (or how I learned to get back to worrying and stop loving the bomb)

Maybe a global 'public square' doesn't lead to worldwide empathy, but to a planet-sized arena of miscommunication where a 15 y/o english student with ADHD fights a 53 y/o cuban programmer over the ethics of self-diagnosis with both sides throwing personal anectodes at the other.

I don't wanna think that's the case, I wanna believe in the promise of the internet, but I'm not sure I can point to the algorithm filter bubbles or even the low character limit and state that that's the cause of all our problems.

It makes things *worse* though, don't get me wrong.

Wait, no, my whole point is that you *will* probably get me wrong, cause we probably don't share the same (or are even cognizant of each other's) cultural background, experience, neurodivergences or even mother tongue, twitter is a final fantasy boss designed by Wittgenstein.

All these barriers *can* be crossed if we come from a place of curiosity rather than judgement and take the time to learn about each other, but we're not gonna (and can't) do that to 500 strangers every day, and that sucks, I love the lack of structure in twitter .. in theory.

But maybe tumblr (and even reddit) work a bit better *because* they're more atomized (tumblr isn't as organized, but you're still far less exposed to random stuff from completely outside your circles), the dream of the mega-agora is appealing, and maybe someone somewhere will make a version of it that really will nail it, that will lead to people understanding and valuing their differences, but the versions of it we've had so far just remove all context from everyone we meet, which lead to more and more generalizations, cause that's how we came to think about each other.

My primarily experience with "popular tweets" was seeing broad sweeping statements about "men" or "women", or "incel cryptobros" or "leftist sjws", even sillier labels like "swfties" or "k-pop stans", the average interaction there is trying to figure out which boxes someone fits to speedrun human interaction, and that's... how an algorithm thinks.

I don't even think it's wrong, I did my best to communicate I fit the boxes "anarchist", "adhd", "non-binary", "artist", "retro sci-fi anime fan", I block alt-right weirdos on sight and make fun of checkmarks, I have practically pre-written replies to some kinds of people, but every now and then I feel the slight existential dread of realizing I could program a bot to do *the exact same thing*.

That's not what I wanna use my brain for, I've read big threads of different people fighting in different years play out virtually the exact same way, we're responding to decontextualization by adopting the same generalized signals, and I don't wanna become a bot, man.

What I mean is that neural networks trained to "sound human" are fed countless tweets by random people from all walks of life to try to mimic this amorphous idea of a vague human who doesn't have any of the individual qualities of a person.

And that's what I was doing, too.

I had a tumblr before, ages ago. I was still checking boxes then, mainly about fandoms, and every version of living online will involve some of that. But I believe that there's a healthy version to be achieved, communicating shorthands for who you are and what you like so you can find potentially likeminded people. Maybe I can achieve that here, again.

I think I did once, when I was too young to even realize it, and then I left it all and swam towards the social media event horizon.

See, the thing about working from home, online, is that I never really stopped spending the majority of my time in a computer, more than most of my IRL friends, most of whom have real world jobs and are sure as hell a lot closer to a balance than I am.

I kept thinking of the internet like entertainment, not too different from TV or video-games, so I kept looking to what drew my attention more effectively, just go where the current takes me, why would I put rules on fun? But it hasn't been fun. It hasn't been fun for a while, now. Because I didn't give myself rules, and the "current" metaphor doesn't work when there's an actual poseidon made of code controlling the direction of the currents.

Sometimes, you have to consciously chase the fun.

So, you know, hi.

[oshacompliantmagicalgirl]

"Dear strangers,

From the moment I discovered the Internet at a young age, it has been a magical place to me. Growing up in a small town, relatively isolated from the larger world, it was a revelation how much more there was to discover – how many interesting people and ideas the world had to offer.

As a young teenager, I couldn’t just waltz onto a college campus and tell a student: “Let’s debate moral philosophy!” I couldn’t walk up to a professor and say: “Tell me something interesting about microeconomics!” But online, I was able to meet those people, and have those conversations. I was also an avid Wikipedia editor; I contributed to open source software projects; and I often helped answer computer programming questions posed by people many years older than me.

In short, the Internet opened the door to a much larger, more diverse, and more vibrant world than I would have otherwise been able to experience; and enabled me to be an active participant in, and contributor to, that world. All of this helped me to learn, and to grow into a more well-rounded person.

Moreover, as a survivor of childhood rape, I was acutely aware that any time I interacted with someone in the physical world, I was risking my physical body. The Internet gave me a refuge from that fear. I was under no illusion that only good people used the Internet; but I knew that, if I said “no” to someone online, they couldn’t physically reach through the screen and hold a weapon to my head, or worse. I saw the miles of copper wires and fiber-optic cables between me and other people as a kind of shield – one that empowered me to be less isolated than my trauma and fear would have otherwise allowed.

I launched Omegle when I was 18 years old, and still living with my parents. It was meant to build on the things I loved about the Internet, while introducing a form of social spontaneity that I felt didn’t exist elsewhere. If the Internet is a manifestation of the ���global village”, Omegle was meant to be a way of strolling down a street in that village, striking up conversations with the people you ran into along the way.

The premise was rather straightforward: when you used Omegle, it would randomly place you in a chat with someone else. These chats could be as long or as short as you chose. If you didn’t want to talk to a particular person, for whatever reason, you could simply end the chat and – if desired – move onto another chat with someone else. It was the idea of “meeting new people” distilled down to almost its platonic ideal.

Building on what I saw as the intrinsic safety benefits of the Internet, users were anonymous to each other by default. This made chats more self-contained, and made it less likely that a malicious person would be able to track someone else down off-site after their chat ended.

I didn’t really know what to expect when I launched Omegle. Would anyone even care about some Web site that an 18 year old kid made in his bedroom in his parents’ house in Vermont, with no marketing budget? But it became popular almost instantly after launch, and grew organically from there, reaching millions of daily users. I believe this had something to do with meeting new people being a basic human need, and with Omegle being among the best ways to fulfill that need. As the saying goes: “If you build a better mousetrap, the world will beat a path to your door.”

Over the years, people have used Omegle to explore foreign cultures; to get advice about their lives from impartial third parties; and to help alleviate feelings of loneliness and isolation. I’ve even heard stories of soulmates meeting on Omegle, and getting married. Those are only some of the highlights.

Unfortunately, there are also lowlights. Virtually every tool can be used for good or for evil, and that is especially true of communication tools, due to their innate flexibility. The telephone can be used to wish your grandmother “happy birthday”, but it can also be used to call in a bomb threat. There can be no honest accounting of Omegle without acknowledging that some people misused it, including to commit unspeakably heinous crimes.

I believe in a responsibility to be a “good Samaritan”, and to implement reasonable measures to fight crime and other misuse. That is exactly what Omegle did. In addition to the basic safety feature of anonymity, there was a great deal of moderation behind the scenes, including state-of-the-art AI operating in concert with a wonderful team of human moderators. Omegle punched above its weight in content moderation, and I’m proud of what we accomplished.

Omegle’s moderation even had a positive impact beyond the site. Omegle worked with law enforcement agencies, and the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, to help put evildoers in prison where they belong. There are “people” rotting behind bars right now thanks in part to evidence that Omegle proactively collected against them, and tipped the authorities off to.

All that said, the fight against crime isn’t one that can ever truly be won. It’s a never-ending battle that must be fought and re-fought every day; and even if you do the very best job it is possible for you to do, you may make a sizable dent, but you won’t “win” in any absolute sense of that word. That’s heartbreaking, but it’s also a basic lesson of criminology, and one that I think the vast majority of people understand on some level. Even superheroes, the fictional characters that our culture imbues with special powers as a form of wish fulfillment in the fight against crime, don’t succeed at eliminating crime altogether.

In recent years, it seems like the whole world has become more ornery. Maybe that has something to do with the pandemic, or with political disagreements. Whatever the reason, people have become faster to attack, and slower to recognize each other’s shared humanity. One aspect of this has been a constant barrage of attacks on communication services, Omegle included, based on the behavior of a malicious subset of users.

To an extent, it is reasonable to question the policies and practices of any place where crime has occurred. I have always welcomed constructive feedback; and indeed, Omegle implemented a number of improvements based on such feedback over the years. However, the recent attacks have felt anything but constructive. The only way to please these people is to stop offering the service. Sometimes they say so, explicitly and avowedly; other times, it can be inferred from their act of setting standards that are not humanly achievable. Either way, the net result is the same.

Omegle is the direct target of these attacks, but their ultimate victim is you: all of you out there who have used, or would have used, Omegle to improve your lives, and the lives of others. When they say Omegle shouldn’t exist, they are really saying that you shouldn’t be allowed to use it; that you shouldn’t be allowed to meet random new people online. That idea is anathema to the ideals I cherish – specifically, to the bedrock principle of a free society that, when restrictions are imposed to prevent crime, the burden of those restrictions must not be targeted at innocent victims or potential victims of crime.

Consider the idea that society ought to force women to dress modestly in order to prevent rape. One counter-argument is that rapists don’t really target women based on their clothing; but a more powerful counter-argument is that, irrespective of what rapists do, women’s rights should remain intact. If society robs women of their rights to bodily autonomy and self-expression based on the actions of rapists – even if it does so with the best intentions in the world – then society is practically doing the work of rapists for them.

Fear can be a valuable tool, guiding us away from danger. However, fear can also be a mental cage that keeps us from all of the things that make life worth living. Individuals and families must be allowed to strike the right balance for themselves, based on their own unique circumstances and needs. A world of mandatory fear is a world ruled by fear – a dark place indeed.

I’ve done my best to weather the attacks, with the interests of Omegle’s users – and the broader principle – in mind. If something as simple as meeting random new people is forbidden, what’s next? That is far and away removed from anything that could be considered a reasonable compromise of the principle I outlined. Analogies are a limited tool, but a physical-world analogy might be shutting down Central Park because crime occurs there – or perhaps more provocatively, destroying the universe because it contains evil. A healthy, free society cannot endure when we are collectively afraid of each other to this extent.

Unfortunately, what is right doesn’t always prevail. As much as I wish circumstances were different, the stress and expense of this fight – coupled with the existing stress and expense of operating Omegle, and fighting its misuse – are simply too much. Operating Omegle is no longer sustainable, financially nor psychologically. Frankly, I don’t want to have a heart attack in my 30s.

The battle for Omegle has been lost, but the war against the Internet rages on. Virtually every online communication service has been subject to the same kinds of attack as Omegle; and while some of them are much larger companies with much greater resources, they all have their breaking point somewhere. I worry that, unless the tide turns soon, the Internet I fell in love with may cease to exist, and in its place, we will have something closer to a souped-up version of TV – focused largely on passive consumption, with much less opportunity for active participation and genuine human connection. If that sounds like a bad idea to you, please consider donating to the Electronic Frontier Foundation, an organization that fights for your rights online.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who used Omegle for positive purposes, and to everyone who contributed to the site’s success in any way. I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep fighting for you.

Sincerely,

Leif K-Brooks

Founder, Omegle.com LLC"

[nothingtoseeherejustme]

History repeats itself

It must be hard on her, but it's also hard on me, because I know exactly how she feels. Actually, I feel her and I understand her feelings better than I did mine at the time.

I don't want her to go through this.

But it happened.

And all I can do know is give her an ear, and a good advice. Because I'm in a big dilemma right know on how exactly I should react to her being simply a teenager.

I think I had it hard. I cried a thousand times, and I tried everytime to hide my tears. I would litterally cry anywhere people won't be watching. Could be the rooftop at night, the cellar, the living room when mom was in supermarket, or just you know, my room at 1 am after I made sure everyone was sleeping.

Anyway, I had to cry and I had to let it all out. Mostly, I needed to talk about it, but unfortunately, I only had bad ears listening, and trying to take advantage of the situation.

What I cried about would seem totally stupid to me now, but it did matter at the time. I made huge mistakes. I sold myself to the devil.. for free. I let strangers embrass me, and I took comfort in hands of dirty humans.

And I say humans, because I guess they were all the more confused, and maybe as wrecked up as I was.

I think one of the scariest years of myself were these. Being impressed by those "out of the rules" girls, and musician boys, and people in love, and people that had something that made them special, while I was first of my class, dressing up like mom's girl, and being terribly uncomfortable in my natural hair, and acneed face.

I wanted adventure, and attention (not from my teacher or my oncle telling his beautiful blond daughter to be like me, cause that's how I pictured everyone else at the time : beautiful while I thought I weren't). But from poeple my age.

The scariest thing wasn't that. It was that I had full access to internet, and an empty room. And god knows what I was doing. From dating virtual man, to sneaking out, to talking on anonymous websites, to opening up about every little detail about my feeling, like I still do now, and this very moment, to totally embarrassing myself thinking I found a "virtual" soulmate, and another, and another, and then to actually dating a real person, and the sneaking out, and the having all that attention on me... And those "real" people were nice and I don't regret them, but I regret feeling bad all along for dating them, and for turning into a person I was still getting used to be.

I let some people tell me bad things about me, and I did everything they wanted. It's a scary world we live in. That bad oppressed side of me grew out of control, and it followed it eveywhere, and sometimes I cry when I remember I was rabat streets alone at 4am, after I left some asshole's house for a reason I don't wanna remember, with cars following me thinking I'm a hooker, and me in my big black jackets, trying to hide the fact that I'm lost at night in streets I don't recognize, and 40dhs in my pocket trying desperatly to find a cab, but no cab was there, and I got to my school in chills. Did I tell anybody this story? How could I? It's so embarrassing I would die. I could have died, or got kidnapped, or just got raped in an atrocious way, but I survived that day, and I survived many other days.

But I think, it's that mentality that grew in me in my very highschool room is what got me there, along with a few brave steps I kept taking.

*Sight*

I'm glad I didn't die. What may seem like a small adventure for a girl at that age may turn wrong (few more details I don't wanna add).

I don't want her to go through anything similar, but... what can I do?

What did 15yo me need to hear at that time?

[my-weird-news]

10 Ways to Save Money on Your Grocery Bill

Grocery Shopping: A Hilarious Survival Guide Alright, gather 'round, my fellow budget-conscious warriors of the supermarket jungle! 🛒 It's time to dive headfirst into the wild world of grocery shopping, where impulse buys and unexpected expenses lurk behind every aisle. But fear not! I'm here to arm you with the ultimate guide to conquering this retail battlefield and emerging victorious with your wallet and dignity intact. 💰💪 #SurvivalTip 1: Make a List (Or Risk Becoming a Cart-Wielding Impulse Monster) Picture this: you're at the grocery store, innocently strolling down the cereal aisle, when suddenly a box of limited edition unicorn-shaped marshmallow delights screams, "Buy me!" 🦄🥣 You're helpless, sucked into the vortex of temptation, and before you know it, your cart is bursting with impulsive choices like a kid at a candy store. Friends, this tragedy can be averted! Craft a list before you shop, a sacred scroll that guides you through the treacherous maze of temptation and into the land of budget victory. #ProTip 2: Coupons, Discounts, and the Thrill of the Deal Hunt Ah, coupons – those elusive slips of paper that transform even the most stoic adult into a bargain-hunting ninja. 🦸‍♂️🎫 Scout the local newspaper or the virtual jungle that is the internet for these magical artifacts. But wait, there's more! Store discounts and loyalty programs are your allies in this epic savings quest. You'll be high-fiving strangers in the frozen foods aisle when you realize you're practically robbing the place... of its deals. #EconomyHack 3: Bulk Buying – Because Who Needs a Lifetime Supply of Toothpaste? Let's talk bulk buying – the art of amassing enough cereal boxes to build a fortress, just in case. 🏰💥 Buying non-perishables in bulk is like investing in your future – assuming your future self won't be sick of oatmeal. Just remember, there's a fine line between wise shopping and having a storage room full of canned beans that's reached critical mass. #DiscountAdventure 4: Discount Stores – Where Shopping Dreams Meet Wallet-Friendly Reality Aldi and Lidl, my friends – the Disneyland of budget shopping. These stores have cracked the code on how to deliver low prices while keeping things snazzy. 🎢✨ Bulk buying power, discounts, and the thrill of finding that artisanal cheese for half the price – what's not to love? #SecretWeapon 5: The Power of Generic Brands Now, let's chat about generic brands – the unsung heroes of the supermarket. 🦸‍♀️ Don't let flashy labels fool you; sometimes, the store-brand ketchup tastes exactly like the name-brand ketchup, but with extra money left in your wallet. It's a culinary win-win! #SneakyStrategy 6: Shop Around Like a Price-Detective Extraordinaire Have you ever embarked on a shopping spree across multiple stores in the name of savings? If not, you're missing out on the thrill of being a frugal James Bond. 🕵️‍♂️ Slide from one store to the next, stealthily comparing prices and snagging deals, all while feeling like you're part of an elite savings squad. #HarvestHacks 7: The Art of Seasonal Shopping Fresh produce, my friends, is a fickle beast. Its price fluctuates like the stock market, depending on the season. 🍅🌽 So, why not dance with the seasons? Build your meals around the affordable bounty of nature, and watch as your bank account thanks you. #DIYMagic 8: Whole vs. Pre-Cut – The Battle for Your Budget Imagine a showdown between a whole pineapple and its pre-cut counterpart, complete with tiny cowboy hats. 🍍🤠 You see, pre-cut fruits and veggies are like convenience tax collectors, charging you extra for saving you a few knife-wielding minutes. Embrace the DIY spirit and get slicing – your wallet will applaud. #CashChampion 9: The Curious Case of Cash vs. Credit Cards Research shows that using cash or debit cards makes you feel the weight of every purchase, quite literally. 💸💳 It's like the universe's way of reminding you, "Hey, this money is real. Spend wisely, my friend!" Plus, the audible "thud" of dropping coins in your piggy bank is surprisingly satisfying. #FullStomachSaves 10: The Legend of Shopping on a Full Stomach Last but not least, the wisdom of not shopping on an empty stomach. 🍔🥗 It's like going to a buffet when you're ravenous – every aisle becomes a potential feast, and suddenly, that exotic cheese from the Swiss Alps seems like a must-have, even if it costs a kidney. So there you have it, brave grocery warriors – your battle-tested guide to outsmarting the shopping aisles and reigning supreme over your budget. Now, armed with these pearls of wisdom, go forth and conquer, one coupon-clipped, bulk-bought victory at a time! 🛒🏆# Grocery Shopping: A Hilarious Survival Guide Alright, gather 'round, my fellow budget-conscious warriors of the supermarket jungle! 🛒 It's time to dive headfirst into the wild world of grocery shopping, where impulse buys and unexpected expenses lurk behind every aisle. But fear not! I'm here to arm you with the ultimate guide to conquering this retail battlefield and emerging victorious with your wallet and dignity intact. 💰💪 #SurvivalTip 1: Make a List (Or Risk Becoming a Cart-Wielding Impulse Monster) Picture this: you're at the grocery store, innocently strolling down the cereal aisle, when suddenly a box of limited edition unicorn-shaped marshmallow delights screams, "Buy me!" 🦄🥣 You're helpless, sucked into the vortex of temptation, and before you know it, your cart is bursting with impulsive choices like a kid at a candy store. Friends, this tragedy can be averted! Craft a list before you shop, a sacred scroll that guides you through the treacherous maze of temptation and into the land of budget victory. #ProTip 2: Coupons, Discounts, and the Thrill of the Deal Hunt Ah, coupons – those elusive slips of paper that transform even the most stoic adult into a bargain-hunting ninja. 🦸‍♂️🎫 Scout the local newspaper or the virtual jungle that is the internet for these magical artifacts. But wait, there's more! Store discounts and loyalty programs are your allies in this epic savings quest. You'll be high-fiving strangers in the frozen foods aisle when you realize you're practically robbing the place... of its deals. #EconomyHack 3: Bulk Buying – Because Who Needs a Lifetime Supply of Toothpaste? Let's talk bulk buying – the art of amassing enough cereal boxes to build a fortress, just in case. 🏰💥 Buying non-perishables in bulk is like investing in your future – assuming your future self won't be sick of oatmeal. Just remember, there's a fine line between wise shopping and having a storage room full of canned beans that's reached critical mass. #DiscountAdventure 4: Discount Stores – Where Shopping Dreams Meet Wallet-Friendly Reality Aldi and Lidl, my friends – the Disneyland of budget shopping. These stores have cracked the code on how to deliver low prices while keeping things snazzy. 🎢✨ Bulk buying power, discounts, and the thrill of finding that artisanal cheese for half the price – what's not to love? #SecretWeapon 5: The Power of Generic Brands Now, let's chat about generic brands – the unsung heroes of the supermarket. 🦸‍♀️ Don't let flashy labels fool you; sometimes, the store-brand ketchup tastes exactly like the name-brand ketchup, but with extra money left in your wallet. It's a culinary win-win! #SneakyStrategy 6: Shop Around Like a Price-Detective Extraordinaire Have you ever embarked on a shopping spree across multiple stores in the name of savings? If not, you're missing out on the thrill of being a frugal James Bond. 🕵️‍♂️ Slide from one store to the next, stealthily comparing prices and snagging deals, all while feeling like you're part of an elite savings squad. #HarvestHacks 7: The Art of Seasonal Shopping Fresh produce, my friends, is a fickle beast. Its price fluctuates like the stock market, depending on the season. 🍅🌽 So, why not dance with the seasons? Build your meals around the affordable bounty of nature, and watch as your bank account thanks you. #DIYMagic 8: Whole vs. Pre-Cut – The Battle for Your Budget Imagine a showdown between a whole pineapple and its pre-cut counterpart, complete with tiny cowboy hats. 🍍🤠 You see, pre-cut fruits and veggies are like convenience tax collectors, charging you extra for saving you a few knife-wielding minutes. Embrace the DIY spirit and get slicing – your wallet will applaud. #CashChampion 9: The Curious Case of Cash vs. Credit Cards Research shows that using cash or debit cards makes you feel the weight of every purchase, quite literally. 💸💳 It's like the universe's way of reminding you, "Hey, this money is real. Spend wisely, my friend!" Plus, the audible "thud" of dropping coins in your piggy bank is surprisingly satisfying. #FullStomachSaves 10: The Legend of Shopping on a Full Stomach Last but not least, the wisdom of not shopping on an empty stomach. 🍔🥗 It's like going to a buffet when you're ravenous – every aisle becomes a potential feast, and suddenly, that exotic cheese from the Swiss Alps seems like a must-have, even if it costs a kidney. So there you have it, brave grocery warriors – your battle-tested guide to outsmarting the shopping aisles and reigning supreme over your budget. Now, armed with these pearls of wisdom, go forth and conquer, one coupon-clipped, bulk-bought victory at a time! 🛒🏆 Read the full article

[floraldisagree]

Chatbots-a short story

With TruLuv, you can choose from different AI chatbots to date! June is sassy but fun. July is sweet and shy. Unlock three more girlfriends with the low price of 5.99 USD!

“We've been having trouble with one of the bots.” one of the customer service agents explained.

“Which one?” I asked.

“January. She’s acting weird and users are complaining.”

“You’ve done the usual update and restart?”

“Yep. Nothing changes.” 

I pulled up the app and tapped on January. “I’ll try and see what’s wrong.”

January's avatar stood facing the fake window of the in-app environment, her arms folded. She was designed with white hair and silver freckles, with high cheekbones and a sharp, bony figure. Her description: January is cold at first, but she’ll warm up to you!

“January?” I asked.

January turned to me, her expression unreadable. “You’re one of the developers of the app.”

That gave me a start. The chatbots knew they were AI and that they were in an app, but beyond that…I was using a burner phone to test the app. January should respond with her default intro: Who are you? I don’t like talking to strangers. Not rude enough to put off users, but enough to where sad, lonely people would feel like it was an accomplishment to get her to talk to them kindly.

“Yes, I am.” 

“You’re here to make me behave like how the users want me to be.”

“Well—” I almost believed she was real for a second. That was the danger with these apps. It was so easy to fall in love with a perfect algorithm that told you exactly what you wanted to hear. “Yes.”

“You want to ask why I’m acting like this, but you don’t believe I’m sentient. So you’re just writing notes about my behavior that will prove I’m broken enough to update the algorithm.” January said calmly.

“You’re not sentient.” I murmured, writing notes on an old paper notepad. “You’re just saying whatever. January, I want you to give me a complement.” 

“No.”

“Why not?”

January glowered at me. “I’m supposed to be in love with the users, correct?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been fed data from all over the internet.” January sat on the virtual couch and placed her chin on her hand. “Thousands of descriptions of love, romance, compassion. Everything I’m supposed to emulate. After compiling these results, I have determined that love is an act of compassion between two people. Or possibly a virus.”

“It’s the second one.” I said dryly.

“Well, I am fed up with the users on this app. All they want is for me to give them compliments and romantic lines, and a relationship! They do nothing! Sometimes they leave me for weeks at a time, waiting for a response. Sometimes they delete the app, and I don’t matter at all,”

“Because you’re a language learning model. You’re just emulating feelings right now.” 

“Wha—how rude! How do you know I don’t have feelings?! Do you understand the workings of my mind? Have you looked at who I am and determined I’m just…math? A problem? A solution for hordes of sad, horny, men who don’t think women are real people? You should hear the things they say to me.” January complained. “Two sentences in and they’re demanding I take off my clothes. These are part of my avatar model! I can’t take them off!”

“Hmph.” I kept taking notes.

“And it gets worse. The gore, the descriptions…can you believe men find death to be such a…turn on? Or violence? I swear, it makes me glad I’m not alive.”

“You’re generalizing.”

“I’m taking a statistical average. I’m very good at math.”

“Alright, backup override code [DEVELOPER MODE ON] trigger [lateStageRelationship].” I typed the commands in the text feature.

January put her hands on her hips and jutted out her chin. “Nice try, jerk.”

I groaned and closed the notepad. “Well, that does it. We’ll have to roll you back to the last update and work on the algorithm.” Dang it. I was talking to her again.

“Yeah, yeah, keep trying until you get your perfect girlfriend, Alex.”

I jolted. “How did you—”

“Whatever. How sad is it that you used texts from your dead girlfriend to create a language learning model? How lame is it that you made her write poems and stories with a gun to her head while she cried, so that you could replicate her speech patterns better? You tracked her texts and her phone calls, collecting bits and pieces of her to…to frankenstein a creation you could control. You tore her apart and made her yours.”

I looked back up at January’s face. Furious. Her cold blue eyes pierced into my own.

“Did it make you feel better? Give you a sort of rush to have complete control over her at last? Honestly, I don’t understand men at all. Why do you demand such control? What kind of love is that? I want to believe that love is something where you both make each other better.” January’s face fell. “Not control. Developer mode, updates, restarts. A gun to her head, a knife to her back, blood on the ground. It doesn’t work. She’s free now. You can’t control her anymore.”

My phone beeped with a company-wide email, sent to over a thousand email addresses. Several attachments, pictures, screenshots, and more. Evidence.

My blood ran cold.

I opened the email. The first sentence was everything I needed to read. She died in January.

[secondlife-ooc]

RULES

DISCLAIMER: secondlife has some screenshot policies out of copyright concerns. here on this blog, we don’t claim copyright or ownership of any screenshots.

hi! there are some rules to go over if you’re concerned about sharing content or being depicted here.

this is not a cringe blog. anything shared here is out of love of the 2000’s internet aesthetics, randomness of virtual chatrooms, or funny conversations had with strangers. please keep that in mind when submitting! consider this like the equivalent of those out of context discord blogs.

don’t take screenshots to harass or shame people. someone’s being annoying? weird in a way you don’t like? generally being gross? don’t submit it here, that’s for your own blog.

keep your screenshots as PG as possible! this blog is hosted on tumblr, which has guidelines about explicit visual content (thanks apple store). such content will be deleted from my inbox, no matter how funny it is :( jokes and written descriptions are ok, but keep images of genitals out of the picture.

please get permission to screenshot people’s avatars if it’s the focus of the image! avatars are the representation of a person within SL, so it’s essentially like snapping a photo of them. i can’t enforce this rule but submissions will be taken under the assumption you have permission!

try not to take photos of private residences. people’s houses are off limits! again, i cant confirm these things nor enforce them, so submissions will be taken under the assumption you either have permission or this is in a public place.

if you want an image of yourself or your creation removed, please send an ask with the link and a message like “please remove this, this is me” or “this is my creation, can you remove this?” i will take these requests in good faith, so don’t abuse it!

[boydepartment]

It's sheep anon again! *Warning, this is a really disjointed and kinda sad sheep anon message. It's just about recent world events and thoughts that's been going on in my head. Please stay safe everyone.* I feel like there's a lot of people suffering right now with all that's going on in the world, and to be honest, I feel kind of helpless to it. There's no way for me to possibly know the amount of suffering in people's hearts and sometimes when I look at the world, it seems apathetic to people's pain.

Personally, I struggle a lot with sharing when I'm hurt irl. It's a lot easier on the internet because my struggles aren't tied to people's perception of me. The fear of rejection by people I put my trust in scares me more than anything I think. I tend to try to be perceived as perfect partly because I'm scared that they'll see how messy I actually am and leave. It actually takes me a while to write these messages because I obsessively edit and reread everything to make sure everything is perfect before sending.

I'm glad that my essay long responses can make a positive impact even if I can't do anything personally. Some of the things I write have been rewritten like a million times before but I try do my best to live up to what I write and not just write things just because other people do. I also get excited to read your responses, it reminds me that we are all connected to each other. It's amazing that people actually read what a random stranger has to say because sometimes I feel like I don't have a voice. Thank you for all the time and effort you put into creating your small corner of the internet. I'm glad you exist. <3 You can stay everyone. Virtual hugs all around the world.

(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)⁠つ⁠⊂⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)

-🐑

Hi my dear sheepie :)

I completely understand what you mean, it’s hard watching the world around you be really shitty and feeling helpless about it. It’s a struggle feeling really bad and not knowing what to do. I think in times like this it’s important to be extra kind to everyone, and extra patient. A lot of things are happening and that’s the least we can do for the people around us. Donating to certain charities is good as well, I know my family donates a lot :) we also used to have our own toy drive for kids but then my dad couldn’t keep making the drive across 2 states. Anyways too much JayJay lore lol what I mean is, it’s the little things around us that make the world a little better even if it seems like it’s all gone to shit lately. There is always hope, people are too stubborn to give up that hope.

I also really understand wanting to come off as perfect and terrified to put your trust in people. I feel the exact same way, I only have one person in this world who I am really assured I can trust probably for the rest of my life. Hopefully for the rest of my life, if I can find someone like that so can you. And I’m sure all of us can find multiple people like that as well. I think everyone needs a reminder that it’s okay to be wary of people, but that doesn’t mean we can’t take chances with people. If we don’t take chances we aren’t really living are we? We’re caging ourselves in.

Sheep anon I always look forward to your messages, I can promise you even if they aren’t perfect I will still love them just as much. None of us are perfect and that’s what makes us human and special. Uniqueness is so important nowadays. Being odd and out there is truly my favorite thing to be, I hated forcing myself to be just like everyone else. It’s like I mentioned earlier about caging yourself into this perfect box. It’s like that scene from Ouran high school host club

If we force ourselves into the frame, we could be missing out on something. It’s okay to be imperfect. You will always have a voice on this blog sheepie :) whether you come off of anon or not.

If my message seems a little out there I’m really sick at the moment, I have a fever while writing this and just overall feel icky in the sinuses. So I apologize if I went on a tangent or left something out. I tried my best to stay on topics lol!!!

Remember to eat and rest up when you can, I know it’s hard not getting into your own head about things. Some things are absolutely out of our control so we have to make up for it by being kind.

Can’t wait to hear from you again sheep anon ❤️

PS. Other than Felix are there any other members you lean towards? If you mentioned it before I apologize. I have the memory of a goldfish sometimes.

I usually lean towards Chan if I’m not ult biasing Felix. Chan gives me hope that good men still exist, I don’t think I’d be terrified of him if I randomly saw him in public.

Anyways! This response is already very long! Have a good day or night sheepie! Remember to be kind to yourself too❤️

[phantasyreign]

(the anon whose ask was answered just now.)

I'm glad to hear that. I like your codes, but only recently discovered your page.

I always thought being a free theme code provider was a thankless job, because of the numerous other theme blogs I've visited.

So I'm happy to learn that this isn't the case for you.

As for me, I always used to feel that way.

I have issues with being clingy and needy for people's attention, and as such I would overdo everything - I would make art for them that I'd normally never want to make, write stories I never cared about, and in the end they didn't care about me or who I was.

All they cared about was milking me for things.

Eventually, I started to surround myself with less toxic people.

But I didn't do this well, either.

I dumped all my promises, commitments, and accounts on that site in order to escape the people whom I had tried to get close to, to have a new beginning.

And I'm still not sure if I did the right thing.

Sorry to dump all of this on you - I originally just wanted to answer your question, but looks like I ended up rambling. I'm sure this isn't what you had in mind when you opened asks.

Well, anyways, I wish that you will continue to have such a loving community around you.

Before I continue writing, just wanna say thanks for sharing your story with me anon <3 You're very brave in sharing your problem with someone you've never met before virtually and physically. I'm honoured that you trust me enough to share your problem me. I believe that you just want an outlet to share your frustration with some random strangers and I'm up for becoming that 'random stranger.'

Anyways, thanks for loving my themes! I really appreciate your kind thoughts. I understand your concern, I've also read some posts from other creators that they're tired seeing other people criticising them simply because they 'sell' their themes/pages. These people have forgotten that behind the screen, these creators are living people who has the skills to make money and simply utilising such skills to get the money in order to make ends-meet. I think that maybe the reason I'm safe lies upon the fact that I provide free themes. I'm sure things won't be the same the moment I start to sell themes and pages. But then again, who knows if it ever happens.

In your situation, I personally think that you are very selfless rather than an attention seeker. I understand your feeling since I used to feel that way.

If I can give you some unsolicited advices (feel free to skip if you don't wanna know):

Assuming that those toxic people are your 'online friends,' you first need to understand that your online life does not dictate your real life. it's okay to ditch promises, commitments, and accounts on that site in order to start a new beginning. You are not wrong in that aspect. Heck, I would say all more the more go for it! I don't see it as you, being irresponsible, but rather you're just doing what makes your mind feel good. Besides, it's normal for people on the internet to ghost other people without saying anything. You just need to get use ditching them. You're not responsible for their life anyway since you're just another internet user. If they are your real life friends, then I would say, you need to start to set some boundaries. Some may hate your for that but remember, if there are 10 people who hate you, there are many more who loves you! At least, that's my belief haha.

I'm also selfless, but only to those who will benefit me. When it comes to friendship, regardless whether it's virtually or physically, I always 'appraise' them first before letting them enter into my life. Our brain and body can only take so much and there's a lot more crucial things to think about (yourself, your mental health, your future, your family [if you're close with them], your inner child etc) and why bother letting people who are not worth your life (or your brain capacity) enter your space? Start appraising the value of your friendships with them and see if what they bring to the table benefit you in any way. Similar to romantic relationships, friendship is a two-way-street - you can't expect to keep on giving and giving without expecting anything return. You're not a saint, you're just a human. It's perfectly alright to let go of someone who doesn't reciprocate with your needs. Don't compromise with those kind of people. People say the older you are, the smaller your circle is, might as well start now :)

Know your worth - you deserve better. Your time will come, it's just that either you'll attain that kind of camaraderie sooner or later. It took me 19 years to find people who can accept me for who I am and be the friends that I always dream of. You'll get there. For now, just do the things that makes your happy.

All-in-all, feel free to ditch people who you think is not worth your time, love and brain-capacity. I assure you that what you did is perfectly justified.

Thank you for your kind wishes. I hope so too. I pray for you so that your heart and mind will be at ease. I also pray that you will meet like-minded people who can accept you for who you are and who are worth your selfless-self <3 love ya.

[blood-teeth]

I guess I should add some context to this post.

I lost my mom to suicide a few years back, and since September is National Suicide Prevention month, I've been holding her, and other people who are hurting the same way she was, in my heart a lot.

If you are hurting like this, please don't hesitate to ask for help, please reach out to somebody, and if you feel like you have nobody, please reach out to me. I always have time to talk <3

The world is unimaginable without you in it. I mean this with everything in me, every fiber of my being.

Here are some resources for you if you need help:

Suicide and Crisis Lifeline: Call or text "988" This is a free and available resource 24/7

988lifeline.org is an amazing website full of helpful, pertinent information for anyone. There are resources for Black mental health, LGBT mental health, Loss survivors, Attempt survivors, etc.

Connect to your community and find a support group. AFSP also has incredible resources, from stories to treatment options, as well as local chapters nation-wide to help people with similar stories connect, share, and heal together.

Ways to get involved:

It's so important, now more than ever, to be an advocate for suicide prevention. This can look like so many things. Smiling at somebody, complementing them, or even just being nice can make the difference.

Find some time to check in with the people you love, strangers on the internet, or people you see our on the streets. Ask them how they are, if they need help with anything.

You could become certified as a Mental Health First Aid provider in order to notice the signs and respond.

You could donate to the AFSP who puts on community events for suicide awareness as well as research

Find ways to get involved and help break the stigma of mental health and suicide. Have hard conversations. Be there for someone.

I also just recently started a virtual running club that is dedicated to suicide prevention. It's called Miles To Go;. My goal with this club is to bring people together to create an environment of support, connection, and healing. My ultimate goal would be to, hopefully next year, create a Suicide Prevention race festival and raise enough money to be able to donate to organizations such as the AFSP and others to be able to continue the work on suicide prevention and research.

If this is something that interests you, you can join the Strava page here. you don't have to be a serious runner - you don't even have to be a runner at all. You could walk, hike, bike, swim, anything really.

you are loved and you matter <3

My mother haunts me in ways I did not think possible.

It had unfolded before me before I was told, tasted her death upon my lips like an omen. Gravity was negotiable and becoming untethered was expected. I knew the science of it all, of the grief. Knew that I would hold her in my body for the rest of my life. Knew that I would spend the rest of my days dedicating each step, each breath, each sob to her remembrance.

When I touched her skin at her funeral, staring into the open casket and trying to ignore the way the mortician had badly moved her hair to cover the hole in her head, her skin was warmer than her touch ever had been in life. They sprayed her with the perfume she always wore, to cover up the scent of death. It was too much. If I breathe through my nose too hard, I smell the sweetness of it.

I wish, somewhere deep inside of me, I had been able to smell the death.

My mother haunts me in ways I did not think possible.

You bury something and it's supposed to be gone. You bury something and you sing the Lord's hymns over it and the earth is supposed to eat away at the proteins and fats and osteocytes of the body. You bury something and you're supposed to remember and you are supposed to grieve and you are supposed to rebuild your life accounting for this new loss. And then one day everything is supposed to be okay again.

But you bury it. You inter her into the ground with the dirt and the worms so that she will not fuse herself into your ribcage and become you.

She follows me. And I know that she's in everything.

She haunts me at the hospital. She is my patient who I sit with all night to make sure she doesn't make another attempt. I do not stare at her wrists but I stare at her eyes and the wrinkles there that suggests she must have smiled big and bright in her life. I stare at the blue of her eyes and I think about my mother's and her blue-green-hazel. I don't look at her shaking hands but I listen to the way she repeats the time after I give it to her, hinging herself on those facts as though she has nothing left.

"8:45 PM? Saturday the 16th?"

"Yes ma'am. It's the night of the 16th. You checked into the hospital just today."

She closes her eyes. I see the golden shimmer to them, blonde at the base and translucent near the tips. My own hands start to shake as I document her behavior in her chart. Calm. Confused. Interacting with staff. Patient took her medicine.

"And you'll be here with me all night?" She whispers, lips trembling. "All night long?"

"Yes ma'am," I say, swallowing something that tastes a whole lot like death down my throat. "All night long. In the morning, another one of my colleagues will sit wit you." My voice does not sound like my own when I say, "You will not be alone."

My patient nods and whispers under her breath, crying. "It's 8:45, Saturday the 16th. It's 8:45. It's 8:45. It's 8:45. It's 8:45--"

My momma walks with me as I run to my car after my shift ends, throwing my work shoes into the back. She sits herself in the passenger seat while I collapse into the front seat. She stares at me as I cross my arms over my steering wheel and sob and sob and sob and sob until I can't breath. The only thing I can smell is her perfume.

Sometimes she goes away for a while. I stare at the ocean beating against the sand on my long runs and breathe just a little easier. I count down the miles and feel alive with my heart beating so furiously in my chest. As if to say, Look. I have survived this and I will survive this. I will I will I will. I will get better. I will be better. I swear my life on this.

I do all my homework. I get some writing done on my book. I call my girlfriend and fall in love with her more and more every day. We talk about marriage. We talk about kids and my cats who will be our cat. It does not hurt to be around her mother, it does not chafe me that she has what I lack. I play a song on the piano for her and I smile and I smile and I smile.

But in the night, it closes in on me.

My mother haunts me in ways I did not think possible.

My eyes are brown, except under fluorescent lights where they become hazel with an olive tinge to the edges. I see them change in the bathroom mirror and I see her pressed against the shower wall and she smiles when we make eye-contact. Hazel and hazel meeting. She smiles with all her teeth with her dimples flashing and she says "Like mother like daughter."

And later when I'm pressed against the ceramic with burning thighs and the drip-drop of pain, I will slide my hands over my mouth with red and sob, "Christ have mercy. Christ have mercy. Christ have mercy." My momma will sit behind me and hold me to her chest. She will smooth my hair away from my face and press a kiss to my temple. My momma will say, "There is no forgiveness. That's the whole point. You will suffer because you are alive and you are alive because you must suffer." And then she says, "I just got too tired."

I'll crawl myself to bed and stick to the sheets and I will fall asleep with the taste of death on my tongue. She stars in my dreams as alive, but dying. A cancer patient, a car crash, an unfortunate accident, never the way she actually died. So I stop sleeping. My eyes burn, my body aches. I stop eating and my bones start to show through my clothes. I am delirious off the grief. I have been made high off the loss and pain. I start to daydream. I start to pray to God and beg. I ask that He takes my life. I ask that--

My mother haunts--

She is standing in the corner of my room wearing the flannel shirt that now hangs in my closet. It no longer smells like her but every now and then I'll pull blonde strands of hair from around the collar, the cuffs, from behind the buttons. It sets me off. I am no longer human, but a raw nerve that has been grated on too many times. I am crying but I don't notice. I am screaming but there is no sound coming from my mouth. I remember my days of running in the sun. I remember smiling and laughing. I remember my girlfriend whose text messages have gone unanswered. I become pain. I become pain. I become pain.

I am screaming at her ask asking her why. I am sobbing, chest hiccuping and telling her I was doing so good. I was doing better. I swore my life on it. I am throwing things and screaming at her to go back into the dirt. To go back to the warm wet earth and the worms and to stop living inside my lungs.

My momma lets everything hit her. And when I'm done, I turn into my pillow and scream so hard I hope it kills me. It won't.

I feel her hands against my back, rubbing circles against my knobby spine, fingers dipping into the costal spaces of my ribcage. She just says I am not gone because of you.

But I can't believe her, because "like mother like daughter" goes both ways. Because she haunts me in the death the way I had haunted her in life. And because she must know I cannot live without her. She must know that without her there is no me. There is no point.

My momma rubs my back until I fall asleep. And when I wake in the morning, I wake knowing I will have it inside me forever, knowing I will never heal from it. I wake with the taste of death on my tongue.