50 Years Later:

Please understand that not every marginalized person is going to have a list of peer reviewed sources and accurate statistics proving the bigotry they face in their daily life and you sometimes just have to decide to believe people when they tell you they are suffering

everyone is becoming way too comfortable about being horrible people

I wonder if when vox sleeps his dreams play across his face?

You mean like this?

but fr I'll never take it seriously when someone says "i was abused by men, I'm allowed to hate them and anyone trying to show love for men is an MRA" like you know how many of us were abused by our mothers and it's still (rightfully) considered not okay to say that women are all abusers just waiting to kill their children. If you blame violence on someones gender instead of the societal mechanisms that encourage and allow violent and harmful behaviour you're perpetuating that cycle.

Desperately wanted to see edgy art of past Vox so I treated myself to some

my first actual contribution. hello mouthwashers

@the-other-soup

house is a girl you have to take care of her

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.

It’s weird that we keep trying to armchair diagnose asshole behaviour with mental health labels and in doing so throw people with mental health conditions under the asshole bus when we could just call a guy an asshole and leave it at that

It just seems far more straightforward, you know