Ah The Good Ol' Eastern European Childhood Nostalgia

The one thing I don’t like seeing from endos is some of them saying “your trauma makes your privileged! No one will believe me but they’ll believe you!”

Trauma doesn’t make anyone privileged. The views that trauma is privilege is terrible. That’s abuse that someone has been through, assault someone has been through.

If you’re saying that someone is privileged because they have trauma… you really need to do something to help yourself out. That’s a terrible mindset to have.

No one believes in endos because of the harm they cause to systems and singlets that are trying to be there for systems. Endos and non-traumagenic “systems” don’t need to be included in everything.

Anti-endo spaces are made so systems can have space from endos and that community, but endos and proendos force themselves into it any way. Why? Because they hate it when someone speaks up against them.

It’s not something you should feel entitled to.

This is why I will never support endos and proendos or “systems” made without trauma. You don’t exist. Your mind CANNOT fragment without trauma and that trauma IS NOT a privilege to have.

SHAPE HELL

Yup.

Everyone knows that everything is a Homestuck reference. It’s like Utena

An informational comic I drew last year for my Comics 2 class, reposting it to my new account (had to jump ship from the old one unfortunately) with some minor grammar changes and learned my lesson in adding watermarks! Happy early pride :)

Shoutout to all the hosts who thought arguing with the guys in your head was a normal way of “thinking about things” 😭

Anyways when I was sixteen I wrote a story about a spaceship's communications officer (think Uhura) who was given a brain implant when he was a baby that automatically translates every language in the universe, but which interferes with his ability to perceive and process subtle changes in tone. He hears an emotionless automated translator voice inside his head rather than hearing the real voices being physically carried by air vibrations. So he has the ability to interpret every word in every language, but he can never interpret tone of voice. And the ultimate message of the story is that understanding every possible text isn't enough -- if you don't understand subtext, you'll be isolated. The "communications officer" actually struggles to communicate more than anyone else on the ship.

You'll never guess what they diagnosed me with a year later.

I’m both pro herbal medicine and pro vaccination because you can treat burns with aloe vera juice and sore throats with lavender infused honey but you can’t rid a country of polio with plants. 

dear artists, especially those who consider themselves beginners

please, PLEASE don't throw away/burn/delete your works. please.

I know you feel like it sucks. i know you think it's hideous, or weird, or bad, or not enough. i know you probably wanted it to come out different. i know, i know how upset and disappointed it makes you feel, but PLEASE. don't throw it away. if you feel like you need to hide it, do it. put it in a box somewhere, or hide the sketchbook behind your bed, or keep a separate folder for all your "bad" artworks. I promise you that you'll benefit from revisiting it.

i know how you feel because i am a self-taught artist who's been drawing since childhood. and, unfortunately, i have destroyed a massive amount of my art just because i felt like it was worthless and ugly. now, when i'm an adult, i regret this so, so much because i have lost not only the ability to see my progress, but also the memories that came with my art. and it's especially important for me because i struggle with memory issues and this only worsens my ability to recall my past, but it's a topic for another day.

just please, trust me on this one. whether it's a few months from now, a year or even ten years, someday you'll want to see how your art has developed and grown. and i promise you that your works will not seem horrible to you. they will be valuable. keep them, i promise it's going to be worth it