The thing about knitting is it’s much harder to fear the existential futility of all your actions while you’re doing it.
Like ok, sure, sometimes it’s hard to believe you’ve made any positive impact on the world. But it’s pretty easy to believe you’ve made a sock. Look at it. There it is. Put it on, now your foot’s warm.
Checkmate, nihilism.
I know I just reblogged this, but I thought about something to add: This is true of so many things. Everything we do that’s creative at all is a stand against entropy. . You probably can’t fix the world, but you might be able to mend a sweater, or fix a broken toy, or hell, make your bed. And any creative action is a spark of light against the void. it doesn’t have to be the best thing ever, it can be a doodle on the side of a receipt, it can be a cup of tea – but it’s something done, something made, something fixed. Nothing else in the world may be better form the tiny thing you’ve done, but the tiny thing still exists. There’s a tiny spiral or a little turtle on a receipt. There’s a pair of pants that button. There’s a warm cup of tea to drink, there’s a sock and a warm foot. Our existence is these tiny moments, strung together against the dark of night.
once you stop fantasizing about that ideal version of yourself and start working towards becoming that person by setting your alarm clock earlier and actually going to the gym and actually volunteering at places and actually eating healthier and not procrastinating and working just a little bit harder you’ll realize that it was so easy all along. becoming your ideal self will only ever exist in your mind until you make the decision to work towards becoming that person. get up!! get going!! it’s now or never!! there is no light at the end of the tunnel!! get that flashlight and pave your own path bitch bc no one else is going to do it for u!!
“Get that flashlight and pave your own path bitch” is absolutely my new life motto
I want you to reblog this if you believe that two people can be very close and physically affectionate with one another, but still have a completely nonsexual, non-romantic relationship.
Even if the two people in question are capable of being sexually or romantically attracted to one another.
Because the friendship I share with someone I consider family in a way that transcends blood has been typecast as a romantic relationship ENTIRELY too many times, and I’m beginning to get sick of it.
Non-sexual, non-romantic physical affection is a thing, people.
Yeah I’ve had like a million people think that my best friend and I are dating. Like no, mate, he’s just my best friend and excuse me if I walk through the hallways at school holding his hand because he’s having a bad day (anxiety wise) or if I have my arm around his waist because he’s super light headed and hasn’t eaten anything except for lifesavers mints (it happens more often than you might think lol).
I have no idea when humankind started confusing intimacy with sex/romance but it would be awesome if we could stop.
This is one of the major reasons why having High School friends was hard because “so and so are dating because they’re sharing each other’s food” or “ holy shit they’re wearing the same outfit they MUST be dating” and “oh my god are they actually hugging/sitting together?!”
Joking with friends can also get taken WAY too seriously as well.
TELL YOUR FRIENDS THAT YOU LOVE THEM
GIVE THEM MASSIVE HUGS AND KISS THEIR FOREHEADS IF THEY’RE OKAY WITH THAT
HOLD HANDS AND LEAN ON EACH OTHER AND PLAY WITH THEIR HAIR AND PAT THEIR HEADS AND SHARE FOOD SAFELY
PLATONIC PHYSICAL INTIMACY IS AMAZING AND NEEDS TO BE PRACTICED MORE
Signed, a girl whose love language is physical touch and who adores cuddles from friends
^ ^ ^
I’m that girl’s aro/ace best friend and I have already told her that we will be cuddling as soon as we see each other irl again.
I’m a teacher. Today I was covering for a grade 9 science class. Decent kids, if a bit rowdy, and didn’t want to do their work. Wtv, it was textbook work. Not the point.
1 girl (reminder that these kids are, like, 14/15) was doodling bust portraits (head & shoulders) in an art book. I had a squiz and asked her if they were her characters. She said they were and excitedly told me she had so many characters for this one story of hers. I laughed about how I wished I could draw mine, and moved on.
Later in the class, I hear her enthusiastically telling her friend all about her main OC – a gay kitsune prince with a tragic past. It was so, pure, classic Deviant Art: my first OC. And you know what? I loved it. I was just sitting there half overhearing, smiling to myself and glad that her friend was engaging and interested in her story and characters.
This is a girl who will become a creator. She will draw and write and imagine, get better and better. She’ll probably move past this stage and start making more nuanced characters (she was already lamenting she didn’t have enough girl OCs). But this is where she started. This is where so many of us started. I had a tiger catgirl, goth witch/sorceress OC in high school. I found my original design for her recently. Look what I create now.
Let kids be kids. Let them explore and invent and go wild and be cliche and make overpowered OCs. Let them have their anthropomorphic animal OCs. Let them try everything before they settle into maturity.
it isn’t worth it to live ur life worrying about how other people will take u! stop styling urself w others in mind! stop holding back ur kindness and strength for fear of what they might make others think of u!! literally the world has everything to gain from u being insecure and forcing urself into shapes easier to swallow! live relentlessly and stay ugly and revel in it !!!!!!!!!!!!
ppl are so annoying “you can’t paint ur bedroom pink you’re an adult” i did not spend my entire life waiting to grow up and control my life to paint my bedroom beige
I had a sales woman in furniture store try and tell me not to buy a hot bubblegum pink loveseat because she wanted me to “think about the future”
Bitch, I am thinking about the future. I already got a hot bubblegum pink couch at home and now I need a loveseat to go with it.
when I first bought my house, I announced my decision to paint my bedroom purple. I had wanted a purple bedroom for thirty damn years, you fucking bet I was gonna have one now. My friends decided, for some reason, that I meant what one of them referred to as “14 year old girl purple” (through what’s wrong with the colors a 14 year old girl chooses, I don’t know, even if they’re not what I want as an adult). They didn’t believe me until they saw the color on the actual wall, even thought they helped me pick out paints. My mother, meanwhile, decided to get worried that if I painted my bedroom a “dark purple”, it would be “depressing”. As if, with an entire house to live in, I would spend all my time in the bedroom, which I wanted to be dark because I would be sleeping in there. In the damn dark.
I had like one, maybe two friends who were all like FUCK YEAH YOU PAINT IT WHATEVER COLOR YOU WANT, PURPLE BEDROOMS ARE AWESOME.
But when they actualy saw the finished bedroom, every single one of them was like, “Oh yeah, that’s really pretty.” (Well, the ones who supported me from the beginning were more like WOOHOO.)
And the moral of the story is: Fuck ‘em, please yourself. Either they’ll come around, or you can safely ignore every question of taste they opine about for the rest of time.
This applies to other adulting activities, too. When I was a kid, I decided that I wanted to have a wedding cake made of doughnuts. When I got older, I figured that I would be “mature” about it and get a traditional cake, which the older adults approved of. Now that I’m 25 and facing the possibility of actual marriage in the near future, I’m just like “marriage is a social construct but it comes with tax & insurance benefits, so just give me that goddamn doughnut cake.” If they don’t like it then they don’t have to come to my wedding.
my shit brain: i’m so bad at this, i just can’t do it-
me, a learning, growing human being whom believes in her own potential: yet bitch!!!!
you’ve been tricked by the education system into thinking that your worth is based on your ability to do the thing Right Now on the First Try, but here’s the big secret: everyone sucks at shit when they first try it, including the people who then get really good at shit. if little baby you had given up on talking because you fucked up on the first try, you wouldn’t know how to talk. and if your favorite singer/artist/whatever gave up because they fucked up on the first try, they wouldn’t have made that thing you love. so stop shitting on yourself for failing and get excited about learning a new skill instead! be bad at things!! have fun being bad at them!! that’s how you get better!!
There was this episode of Monk where he joined a painting class, drew one line, and then despondently said “I ruined it”, and that show may have had a lot of problems but fuck me if I haven’t been going back to that Mood for ten years solid now
we are not born to die!! what are you talking about!! do you think a book begins just to finish? do you think a song opens with a beautiful chord just for it to end? you don’t read the book to finish it, you read the book to eat up the excitement and the emotions it evokes!! to learn and to digest and to fall in love and be heartbroken!! you listen to the song to dance and dance and sing your throat raw!!! to cry and smile and swell with the harmonies!! yes, we are born with the inevitable fate of death, we are mortal after all, but that is merely the finale of the play!! the final act, the closing of the curtains – we are not born to take a bow and exit stage left!! we are born to love and be joyous and yell and move and learn and cry and feelfeelfeel!!! we are not born to die, silly, we’re born to live!!!
CaptainBubblebath 