I remember this story mom told me and my sister when we were little. Two frogs fall into a milk churn, and start swimming to stay on the surface. After a long time, one of the frogs tells the other that it's tired of swimming, and is just going to give up now. The frog sinks and drowns, while the other frog keeps swimming. Eventually the surviving frog that never gave up has been swimming for so long that the milk has been churned into butter, and the frog can hop out. The moral of the story is that life feels hopeless a lot, but if you give in to despair, you fucking die.
I had two aunts from my father's side. I don't remember anything about one of them, she died when I was three years old. We were never lied to about how it happened. She killed herself, jumped out of a window. She gave in to despair. My paternal grandmother lost her mind over the grief, developing dementia overnight. I never knew her as a sane, coherent person. She gave in to the despair. That's what I was taught, that's how I was raised. Life is pain, but if you give in to the despair, you fucking die.
I am an optimist. Always have been. I had to be. Indulging in pessimistic fatalism was a luxury that I could not afford. I'm not an optimist out of some naive lack of awareness that life can be bad sometimes. I grew up very familiar with how bad life can be. I was an optimist in believing - against all the proof of the contrary - that life could be other things, too. That it's possible that there could be a life that doesn't hurt all the time.
I can't afford to be a pessimist. I don't pretend to believe that things will never get bad, but I have no choice but to believe that no matter how bad things will get, there can be good things in life, no matter what. I don't talk to my family anymore, but I did survive being raised by them. The ones who give up hope don't make it. If you let the darkness seep in, and give in to despair, you die.
WOMEN!!!
i did not mean for the height diff to get that exaggerated but tbh this feels canon accurate anyway (vox WOULD lean at like a 45 degree angle so she can get little spooned even though she literally doesnt need to)
Small penises aren’t bad, balding isn’t bad, being short isn’t bad, being fat isn’t bad. Physical traits are not signs of morality, and the sooner people stop mocking people for their bodies (yes, even when they’re bad) the better.
He’s Italian. He’s bisexual. He loves to read. He’s an Ivy League graduate. He’s a tech bro. He’s a gym rat. He’s a flirt. He gave the Unabomber 4/5 stars on Goodreads. He takes the bus. He’s got a bad back. His politics are incoherent. He’s a gamer. He’s an artist. He shot a healthcare executive
sexual thrill at the mere prospect of cataloging things in a database
The sillies (i made this like a month ago but i totally forgot i had a tumblr account for some reason)
is he wrong though
Smash that mf reblog button if you stoically ignore all labelled washing instructions and everything your mama ever told you about laundry and just send those bastards hurgling around in an overfilled tub to meet either death or glory