love how no matter what, in all the pjo adaptations, grover has been nonwhite. filipino grover in the musical, black grover in the movies, and desi grover in the tv show
it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.
anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."
just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.
i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.
when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.
but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.
i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?
most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.
now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.
and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.
go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.
tumblr mobile has seadily become near unusable these past few updates. not just from a user experience perspective (which is important enough in itself) but also from an accessibility perspective.
examples include the new way the image viewer works (if you can call it "working"), the tumblr live button replacing the profile button, and that newly created blogs will be forced to have their main dashboard tab be the 'for you' page.
reverse the recent image viewer update
scrap the new users 'for you' page default setting
let us turn off tumblr live indefinitely
increase efforts against spam / porn bots
make reporting abuse and hate speech as easy as reporting as reporting spam
let us go nuts show nuts again... for real this time
commit to improving usability and accessibility, and listening to users!
(suggestions welcome!)
to protest against these usability issues, and inspired by the recent reddit blackout, i propose a 48 hour blackout (where you don't use tumblr at all). preferably of both mobile and web (since web has problems too) but mobile is the focus here.
this marks the end of pride month (for the "queerest place on the internet") and the start of disability month (since accessibility is a massive issue here).
tumblr office is in San Francisco, USA, so the times and dates will be calculated using their time zone (PDT).
i can't afford to blaze this post so please spread it around as much as possible! protests only work if significant numbers show up!
I'm kinda worried for Jimmy, he hasn't posted Double Life hunger games yet
spotify playlists i made that i love:
for instantly inducing sadness and depression
for losing sight of what love means to you
for feeling present in the current moment
for deep-rooted loneliness
for the pure excitement of having a crush
for sleeping
for the person who left and would ruin you if they ever came back
for a love that rages like a fire
for your pride & prejudice hand flex moment
for feeling dreamy
for your radiohead fix
for crying while still bopping along
for drinking warm spiced milk on a rainy day
for feeling like you're an indie coming of age film
for the nostalgic emo phase
for feeling wretched
for when you're walking the streets of a new city by yourself
for daydreaming about moving to new york city with your best friends
for bangerz only
for wearing bold lipstick
for your bollywood fix
for allowing yourself to change
for feeling like you're floating on your back in a swimming pool at night in an indie movie
for your gracie abrams fix
for when you don't recognize yourself
for my desi diaspora kids
for my desi diaspora kids pt 2
for traveling and being present
for feeling like a smashed vase, or for smashing vases
for the jungle
for your james blake fix
for managing the aux cord
for feeling like the color orange, or perhaps the fruit. either one
for late night car rides surrounded by the open sky
for seeing the end of the world but smiling ridiculously
for your ridiculous bestie
for dying of love
for gradually falling into sleep
for your joji fix
for watching bright orange sunsets while hating yourself
for feeling the first warmth of summer hit you
for feeling like the weird kid in class again
for learning to live without the heartache it gives you
for playing breath of the wild
for realizing that romantic love will not be the thing that heals you
for whispering secrets to your best friend
for the kids who grew up on the internet
for love, or the lack thereof
for when you want to move to a new city but something is keeping you where you are
for your morning walk
for sitting in a field of marigolds
for beat drops that make you go feral
for traveling to see your best friends
for not allowing yourself to feel ridiculous anymore
for feeling like a perpetually open wound
for risk-taking
for your coke studio pakistan fix
for waiting for better days
for haunting
for being afraid that this is all there is
for texting them to get home safe
for falling in love in the summertime
for your hallmark movie main character moment
for your slowcore fix
for studying
for eating heartshaped jam cookies
for an espresso shot of joy
for feeling like an empty well that has nothing left to give
for love-filled days
for your ariana grande fix
for web-weaving
for your commute
for losing grip of your dreams
for setting this whole year on fire
for feeling like a pakistani uncle drinking chai on the porch
for isolation
for kicking anxiety in the face
There is so much poetic justice going on around him.
There’s Grian and Scar, for one, which is enough to exhaust a whole season’s worth of poetry. The allies, the murderers, the fatal flaws, the victor and his final kill. As if that doesn’t cover it, there’s Impulse and Bdubs, the traitor and the betrayed, the two stubbornly insisting on a marriage through gritted teeth. Whoever said the universe doesn’t have a sense of humour is in for a bit of a reality check.
And here’s the reality check – there’s Scott and Pearl. Except Scott doesn’t even pair up with Pearl, he chooses someone else – and yet, the person he chooses isn’t Jimmy. And Cleo hands him the flower, a daffodil, too yellow, and Scott makes a joke. And Jimmy jokes back, and the poetry around them shatters.
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