had cramps + didn’t eat for six hours + a ton of

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had cramps + didn’t eat for six hours + a ton of sewing to do + fucked up some of the sewing + had to wait over half an hour to buy some fabric; had a near meltdown in the sewing classroom and fled to get a slice of pizza and a soda across the street. I’m fine now though.

I hate my mom’s desire for and view of cleanl

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I hate my mom’s desire for and view of cleanliness that makes the house unusable for me. e.g. she would prefer that my floor be clean at the price of my bed being covered in stuff (and thus difficult to sleep in, difficult to strip the sheets from) and would prefer that I not use the dining room table for sewing stuff (creating the ENORMOUS [to me] task of clearing my bedroom desk before I can do any sewing homework.) like. I don’t know what it is for her that it doesn’t strike her that… maybe… I use space… in a way that is structured around some kind of “purpose”?? other than cleanliness?? this is mostly a frustration post about how I have to do at least an hour of cleaning work before I can get do doing the numerous hours of sewing work that I have to do after I’ve already had a meltdown today from how much fucking stuff I have to do. and the sheer amount of stuff I have to do sticks me in procrastination hell where I have a hard time doing anything at all!!! my mother’s solution to this would be to just do everything efficiently in a reasonable timeframe but what that “solution” doesn’t address is the fact that I am developmentally disabled

it’s not fair that I never got services for my

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it’s not fair that I never got services for my inability to regulate tasks or attention just because I’m “smart” it’s not fair that reading books meant nobody figured out I needed glasses or help underSTANDING STUFF it’s not fair that I had to figure out why everything is so FUCKING HARD for me on my own at ages 18-20 it’s not fair that I had to schedule all my evaluations and take the bus myself to all my appointments and fill out my inventories alone it’s not fair that I have to wrap mySELF in a blanket on the patio at night and cry to mySELF about how IT’S NOT FAIR. it’s not fair that I’m always the one getting myself a painkiller or a glass of water or soothing myself through a meltdown or wiping my own fucking tears!!!!!!! I want to live with someone I’m comfortable being vulnerable around!!!!!!!!!! I want to live with someone I’m ok with seeing me cry!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want to live with someone who understands that STUFF IS HARD FOR ME. I WANT HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have a soft pink blanket and a soft pretty rainbow stuffed animal and my water bottle so I can be.

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I have a soft pink blanket and a soft pretty rainbow stuffed animal and my water bottle so I can be more hydrated after crying and that’s self care. sometimes yourself is who you have to take care of you. so it’s good to have some techniques!

drownthearchitect: undergroundghosts: Had a dream where I was sitting in a dark office and reality..

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drownthearchitect:

undergroundghosts:

Had a dream where I was sitting in a dark office and reality felt really altered and strange and there was just a fishtank illuminating the room and then this fuckin fish looked at me and grinned with human teeth and in this super deep voice said “you’ve been here awhile, better wake up before you forget how to” and I fuckin woke up in a cold sweat

Dude I think you went to hell

time for a little controversy....

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tranarchist:

hellatrans:

dirtyandbeauty:

Cat Earth

It’s cats all the way down

makesomethingawfuleveryday: The old Internet is dying right in...

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makesomethingawfuleveryday:

The old Internet is dying right in front of us without a trace. However, some sites and technology hang on against all odds.

Before there were mines to craft and second lifes to live, there was ActiveWorlds, an open-world, multiuser, sandbox virtual reality 3D avatar chat program launched June 28th, 1995 that I first encountered in 1999.

…

Exploring locations created fifteen-plus years ago in two-decade-old software doesn’t bode well for the future of the web. Virtual picture frames that pointed to images hosted on external sites are now ghostly embodiments of dead links —static-filled picture frames that leave physical scars on the virtual environment. 

Read “Small Town Virtual Boy” on Medium.