What If I Just

this whole “never repeat outfits” shit is not working for me. i get attached to one oversized sweater and that’s all you’ll see me in for a week

when you yearn for love and affection but you’ve emotionally repressed yourself for so long that if you attained them you would be overwhelmed with them instantly

god i love my friends. shout out to people who love their friends. this is a post for friend lovers

Well i Love you if that helps

“The thing is: If you’re cold, you hurt people. If you’re sensitive, they hurt you.”

— Unknown

tumblr is for putting your stuff somewhere that's not secret but also not for anyone particular to see so it's true neutral in a really nice way

(This is a thought/vent poem! Aka, inspired by my own experiences)

Home.

"What is a place that you call home?"

I was asked some months ago.

To answer that inquiry I must determine

what counts as a home and what merely as a dwelling place?

Is a home somewhere you stay?

somewhere to live while you slowly decay?

Or is a home filled with laughter and joy?

With the newfound happiness of a fancy new toy?

If the answer is the latter, then what else can I say,

then "I don't think I call anywhere a home, either way."

For I don't hear laughter in either place.

I don't hear happiness no matter where I stay.

for whether I stay in the place my family owns

or the house they placed me in far down the road,

the only place that feels like home

is those fleeting moments I feel safe within a voice's tone.

But those belong to either place,

in fact, they don't really belong to any at all.

they belong to the people that live outside those houses' walls.

They belong to people who would answer if I called.

And so when someone asks me what place I call home,

I must simply tell them "There is no place I call home.

"my heart does not lie in one place or another,

"Rather it travels along with me wherever I discover,

"the closest friends someone could have."

And though this thought tears my soul

I must just understand that this is how it goes.

For a girl who finds no home within a place,

must reach for another's embrace.

The hard truth about autism acceptance that a lot of people don't want to hear is that autism acceptance also inherently requires acceptance of people who are just weird.

And yes, I mean Those TM people. Middle schoolers who growl and bark and naruto run in the halls. Thirtysomethings who live with their parents. Furries. Fourteen-year-olds who identify as stargender and use neopronouns. Picky eaters. Adults in fandoms. People who talk weird. People who dress weird.

Because autistic people shouldn't have to disclose a medical diagnosis to you to avoid being mocked and ostracized for stuff that, at absolute worst, is annoying. Ruthlessly deriding people for this stuff then tacking on a "oh, but it's okay if they're autistic" does absolutely nothing to help autistic people! Especially when undiagnosed autistic people exist.

Like it or not, if you want to be an ally to autistic people, you're going to have to take the L and leave eccentric, weird people alone. Even if you don't know them to be autistic. You shouldn't be looking for Acceptable Reasons to be mean to people in the first place. Being respectful should be the default.