I’ve always thought the point of Tumblr was to feel less alone. your inane bullshit will be enjoyed by someone. your rabid fandomry is appreciated, nay, lifted on a pedestal. your odd quirks become rallying points that make you realize maybe humans aren’t so different from each other, even across the boldest lines we like to draw: physical health, mental health, weight, pigmentation, religion, politics, sexuality, us vs. them.
and yet I see posts that are lists of “here are the things I feel/am/do as X,” almost possessively, like no one else could POSSIBLY experience these same things – but isn’t it more freeing to know that they do? to know that when you’re sweating over a detail of online interaction in a particular way, overthinking the consequences of sharing your thoughts, wondering if you’re allowed to have that opinion…to know that maybe people who seem confident and normal and put together deal with that sometimes too?
maybe I’m wrong; trying to be aware of my unconscious bias/privilege.
It is the feast day of St. Raster, who converted the Vectors.
The Hidden Almanac for 2015-06-19 (via fuckyeahursulavernon)
as I mentioned on that selfie, I spent about 4 hours picking away at the skin on my finger with a needle and tweezers in order to remove a tiny metal splinter – and in the final moments (which I didn’t know were final at the time) Jake started writing me a hidden note in our shared document (like we do) and he wrote the last word as I triumphantly wrenched the splinter from my finger, so I was able to sit there and cry and be comforted by his piercingly kind words in the aftermath of that stupidly all-encompassing pain and frustration.
he is my rock solid canyon wall. he loves me so much better than I had ever imagined someone could love me.