i can not with myself right now.
My gender expression is varied enough day to day that sometimes I feel like it would be easier if the decision was just taken out of my hands.
Today I am a non-binary sophisticate otter
bigender soft shortcake.
what is a shortcake? i mean, besides the food item.
Today I am genderfluid leather queen.
genderfluid sophisticate otter. sounds pretty status quo
agender soft bear.
Since klingon sex is basically violent wrestling, I wonder if the klingons don’t have BDSM but like the opposite. Klingons gathering in secrecy in dark cellars to engage in sweet, gentle loving, to the scorn of fellow klingons.
"How can you do that?" the other klingons ask. "You don’t even draw blood? Not a single furniture breaking? It doesn’t seem… natural".
"What is this… cuddle, you speak of?"
Fifty Shades of Domestic Abuse
50 Shades of Damaging Stereotypes
Fifty Shades of Wanna Guess How Many People Will Be Hospitalized Due To Flesh Wounds From Improper Knots After The Movie?
50 Shades of Glorified Abuse
50 Shades of Kidney Damage from Incompetent Crop Use
Fifty Shades of Pathological Violence Due To Past Trauma Isn’t Kink
i feel weird and fragile tonight.
i’ve been out ‘sick’ for three days. monday i couldn’t make myself get out of bed, tuesday I only left the house for therapy, last night i felt sick, and I slept a good portion of the day. but physically there is nothing wrong with me, so back to work I go in about 12 hours.
i am so tired, but my brain keeps wandering and rattling in my head and i keep pushing it away from painful memories.
my therapist says that, for all that i’m doing well, this is a pretty normal part in the grieving process to crash.
i keep trying to write about death and i keep stopping because it feels weird. but i also want to push through and keep writing this little piece of fiction because even if it doesn’t mirror me and my situation, it is an interesting way to think about healing.
i don’t know.
i want my girlfriend, but when i had the chance to see her tonight, i couldn’t leave my chair to get dressed and drive down to pick her up.
tomorrow i will get out of bed and go to work. it is going to be hard, but maybe i need the structure back in my life.
The amount of questions Bastille asks in thier songs really stresses me out
are you gonna age with grace? do you like the person you’ve become? can you fill the silence? how am i gonna be an optimist? how am i gonna get myself home?
like idk dan you figure it out