anyways reminder that scars of any kind are morally neutral and not bad or harmful to show. if that shit is healed and not a literal open wound it is not fucking bad. it is not okay to shame or trigger warning a normal fucking part of someone’s body, including and especially when it’s a sign of physical or mental illness.
look every single time I make posts like this someone comes on my post like “not self harm scars though! those are triggering!” and fucking. think about what you’re implying for just one second here. you’re saying that if anyone has ever even once hit a mental point where they harmed themself in a way that left a lasting mark they can never show their body uncensored again. this is okay to you? you think this is fucking okay?
also, to expand on this: do not assume you know what are and aren't self harm scars. i have 'traditional self harm scar' looking scars that are not self harm, just that i have a cat and scar easily. i have scars that do not look like self harm scars that very much are. you do not have the right to go up to someone and ask "hey, what are you scars from so i can decide if i can censor your body?", nor the right to assume the origin of someone's scars in order to censor their body. In general, no one's scars or any other part of their body is your business
i also want to interrogate the stigma against open/ongoing/unhealed wounds – in addition to self-injury, plenty of disabilities cause chronic wounds, impaired healing, etc (diabetes, other vascular conditions, hidradenitis suppurativa, just to name a few) & there’s nothing wrong with existing in public while visibly wounded / with a transparent dressing / etc
So, okay, fun fact. When I was a freshman in high school… let me preface by saying my dad sent me to a private school and, like a bad organ transplant, it didn’t take. I was miserable, the student body hated me, I hated them, it was awful.
Okay, so, freshman year, I’m deep in my “everything sucks and I’m stuck with these assholes” mentality. My English teacher was a notorious hard-ass, let’s call him Mr. Hargrove. He was the guy every student prayed they didn’t get. And, on top of ALL OF THE SHIT I WAS ALREADY DEALING WITH, I had him for English.
One of the laborious assignments he gave us was to keep a daily journal. Daily! Not monthly or weekly. Fucking daily. Handwritten. And we had to turn it in every quarter and he fucking graded us. He graded us on a fucking journal.
All of my classmates wrote shit like what they did that day or whatever. But, I did not. No, sir. I decided to give the ol’ middle finger to the assignment and do my own shit.
So, for my daily journal entries, over the course of an entire year, I wrote a serialized story about a horde of man-eating slugs that invaded a small mining town. It was graphic, it was ridiculous, it was an epic feat of rebellion.
And Mr. Hargrove loved it.
It wasn’t just the journal. Every assignment he gave us, I tried to shit all over it. Every reading assignment, everyone gushed about how good it was, but I always had a negative take. Every writing assignment, people wrote boring prose, but I wrote cheesy limericks or pulp horror stories.
Then, one day, he read one of my essays to the class as an example of good writing. When a fellow student asked who wrote it, he said, “Some pipsqueak.”
And that’s when I had a revelation. He wanted to fight. And since all the other students were trying to kiss his ass, I was his only challenger.
Mr. Hargrove and I went head-to-head on every assignment, every conversation, every fucking thing. And he ate it up. And so did I.
One day, he read us a column from the Washington Post and asked the class what was wrong with it. Everyone chimed in with their dumbass takes, but I was the one who landed on Mr. Hargrove’s complaint: The reporter had BRAZENLY added the suffix “ize” to a verb.
That night I wrote a jokey letter to the reporter calling him out on the offense in which I added “ize” to every single verb. I gave it to Mr. Hargrove, who by then had become a friendly adversary, for a chuckle and he SENT IT TO THE REPORTER.
And, people… The reporter wrote back. And he said I was an exceptional student. Mr. Hargrove and I had a giggle about that because we both knew I was just being an asshole, but he and the reporter acknowledged I had a point.
And that was it. That was the moment. Not THAT EXACT moment, but that year with Mr. Hargrove taught me I had a knack for writing. And that knack was based in saying “fuck you” to authority. (The irony that someone in a position of authority helped me realize that is not lost on me.)
So, I can say without qualification that Mr. Hargrove is the reason I am now a professional writer. Yes, I do it for a living. And most of my stuff takes authorities of one kind or another to task.
Mr. Hargrove showed me my dissent was valid, my rebellion was righteous, and that killer slugs could bring a city to its knees. Someone just needs to write it.
This is the first time I’ve seen this post but I know I’m gonna love reading it every time it shows up on my dash
Love this. It’s creative, it’s funny, and honestly drones as a technology come with a shitload of practical & legal issues re: public air space that we haven’t at all begun to work out yet (although they are far more likely to be misused by the government than by civilians)
i would follow her tumblr realistically i think she would only post workout regimes and spotify links but her vent posts would be worded so well youd stick around just for her wordplay because she keeps it real even if sometimes you dont get what shes on about
Credit: BetopX on Douyin, via artmixshare.
I don’t care how many Greeks are in that thing, I’m taking him home
this video has invaded my brain
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behold the most moving voice acting of all time
IT BELONGS ON A GREAT BIG FIYAAH;yi
what ah you so excaitedabaaht MAYQUAY
eeeh eeh eeeh
mmmmh i think i’ll adopt it and takeit withmeeeeehhh
i always watch this like five times whenever it comes back around
X,D
i fuckign queued this and forgot abt it and got scared cuz i thought i was hacked or smth. anyways happy june eleventh
reblog while its still true
reblog this to absolutely hug the person you reblog from
hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe