I FORGOT SOME SORRY

God yes, please, let's fucking talk about my greatest source of social isolation and ridicule.

thank GOD we are talking about racism towards asians now because as a dark skinned south asian woman my only representation in western media is 1) the smart brown girl studying to become a doctor or 2) the brown girl with overbearing parents who want her to get an arranged marriage. and don’t you dare tell me that this only happens in movies or shows because i cannot count the number of times that white people have come up to me and asked me what medical schools i want to apply to since i was literally 12 years old.

my culture has been stolen by white people trying to be woke while i was shamed for being south asian as a child. the golden milk you find on every white girl’s youtube channel now is haldi doodh, and my ancestors have been drinking it for thousands of years. the bindis on white girls’ foreheads as they go to coachella have served as a target for racists to attack south asian women. but when i drink haldi doodh or wear a bindi, i get stares from white people trying to dehumanize me by calling me barbaric or “backwards.”

racism towards south asians is still around and something that we NEED to keep talking about if we want to see change happen.

So, India is dying.

Look, I know a good number of you are from the US and things aren't amazing there either, but my country is literally on the brink of collapse. So I'd love it if we could talk about that for a minute.

If you can't do anything else, please just read and reblog.

A second COVID wave has taken out the healthcare system. There are no more hospital beds. There's an oxygen shortage. There's a critical vaccine shortage. The Central Government has thrown its hands up and is passing the baton to the State Governments to do what they can.

There are over 16 million covid cases. A record 330,000 new cases reported yesterday - comparable to the US at its peak. 187,000 dead as of today.

There is no plan.

Mass cremations are taking place. The cremation grounds are running day and night and they are short on wood. People are watching their loved ones die while waiting for a hospital bed, and then they're unable to give them the proper burial rights.

Hospitals are overwhelmed. Patients are being confined, two to a bed. They're the lucky ones.

We are on the verge of people dying in the streets.

This is the second-most populous country in the world. The largest democracy. A country that encapsulates over 15,000 years of recorded human history and has endured everything from famine to invasion to colonisation.

We might be at the end. This might be the thing that does us in.

People are dying.

People are dying.

People are dying and there is no plan.

More good news? Variants are popping up. A double mutation strain has shown up. It is resistant to current vaccines. This will not go away. This is the devastation they warned of when the anti-maskers were out protesting the minor inconvenience of covering their face in public.

My country is on the verge of an emergency state. Our government has failed us. This is as dire a situation as it ever could be.

Look. I don't do much with my life. I write fics, some of you have read them and that's pretty much it. I spend my days with my head in the clouds because that's where I like to be.

But two days ago, my grandmother tested positive, had to be taken to hospital and the ambulance caught fire.

She barely made it to the urgent care she needs.

So, here I am, using whatever meager platform I have to cobble this request together. Because I have to do something.

If you can, donate.

Or spread the word.

Help. Please.

everyone's got that one homie who zealously adheres to his inflexible code of honor even though it has long since become a burden to him

When you said fanon Neil exists as a phenomen, what did you mean? What is the fanon version of Neil like?

fanon neil is the product of two unspoken shipping culture rules 1) whoever’s the bottom becomes a very passive, sweet, soft, feminine, non-confrontational cinnamon roll as opposed to their tough very masculine possessive top (aka “the bottom treatment” - the term coined by my colleague @writingpuddle) and 2) the “someone will die - of fun!” dynamic has to be present at all costs so if one character or both don’t fall under the sunshine one vs the grumpy one personality types fans will make them so.

canon andrew’s already very masculine and grumpy so he’s fine and these sides of him don’t get erased, so his partner must necessarily be the blushing sunshine uwu boi. the fact that canon neil is much more active than andrew, very rude and confrontational, can stand up for himself, is also much more “masculine” than “feminine”, can say horrible things and handle very stressful situations without outwardly showing how he feels, is manipulative and tough af, has probably killed people - all of this gets discarded bcs it doesn’t fit the binary (and very heteronormative) tough boy/soft boy dynamic.

obviously not all fan works portray neil like this but there are enough to form a very unsavory trend

I wanna make friends

I’m lonely and it’s pandemic and it’s been a long time since I’ve had internet friends so if you wanna talk to a nerdy ass bitch, hello, I’m available

AFTG Summer Exchange 2021

I FINISHED. I'm so nearly late, I am so sorry. Life, ya feel?

Anyway, this is for @lyndiscealin, your prompts were hella cute but I ended up running with the sticky notes one. I hope you enjoy this!

IF YOURE EGYPTIAN AND LGBTQ+ GET OFF ANY QUEER DATING SITES, THE POLICE ARE TRACKING AND HUNTING PEOPLE DOWN AGAIN. DELETE YOUR ACCOUNTS.

Whatever That is Left

There is a deepening void somewhere in her chest.

It's inky darkness poisons her smile,

Breaking it down and reshaping it into something more cruel and lifeless.

But there is a shimmering layer of what is left of her.

It sits at the bottom of that hole, like a fine dusting of sugar on the best sweets.

Happy memories and love and ambition and joy lie somewhere in between,

It tries and tries to push her forward and just barely supplies her breaths.

But every time, without fail, she reaches deeper and deeper into herself to pull out what little is left,

And offers those splintering pieces to be soothe and provide.

They are rarely every returned in good health.

So often, she is left pillaged, burned, brutalized, and diminished

And ready to go again,

To scrape out whatever that is left,

And to display it with broken and bleeding hands to her world once more,

Until there is nothing but a pit where she had once glimmered gleefully and open to the world.

It's 10:52 and I just woke up from a nap. Why am I napping at night, you may ask? It's cuz I'm a HEATHEN.

But no I been thinking. What the fuck is up with people going the Egyptians couldn't build the pyramids, they didn't know calculus. That's a thing right? Tell me if I'm wrong.

But I'm be operating under the presumptions that it is. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW IT'S NOT A THING. MOTHERFUCKING AUGUSTUS CAESER BURNT DOWN THE GREAT LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA. Also, like, if Isaac Newton discovered calculus in the 1600s, some 600 years after the dark ages, how come the Egpytians couldn't do it? They got together in 3100 BCE and production started in like 2500 BCE. Good timing to figure out what calculus is.

These are my thoughts in this fine evening. I must study now and hope to find sleep in a few hours. Good night.

Rating cat activities

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