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musings of my migraines

@buuuuggggggggggg

i am but a nd asexual who writes shitty poetry [age 18] please send me asks it makes the dopamine go brrrr (they/them) you can refer to me by bug :)
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I dont wanna spam my bio so im just gonna pin a post idc if its weird so welcome to: SHIT ABOUT ME

- i have dyscalculia but it took 16yrs to realise not being able to count to ten was a problem don't ask me how i got through school i don't fucking know

- i crochet. And knit. A lot. (Probably too much)

- i have a cat called Eucalyptus because my sister got to name her and she wanted to be ~unique~

- i take the train to fucking everywhere and i meet some interesting people

- i apparently walk weird because my knees are weird. I find that info vaguely threatening

- i write shitty poetry

- i have 26 plants and they all have names

- i used to hate myself for being the typical ~I'm so quirky~ girlie as a tween and thought i was completely normal until i got friends and they informed me that i am in fact Really Fucking Weird

- i love the drink pastis. And anything anis/liquorice flavoured (also the way liquorice is pronounced makes my skin crawl)

- i still wear my exes ring after three years because I'm a lesbian with attachment issues

-i love looking at people's homes i see outside the train n imagine families living in them

- my gender and i have a complicated relationship. We're low to no contact atm

- i need people around me, however most people seem to find me draining (which, fair enough)

- i can sew

- one time i burnt my pancakes so bad the fire alarm went off, so i panicked, ripped it of the ceiling n chucked it on the floor repeatedly until it stopped yelling. Which is very on brand for me.

- my best friend is a dragqueen and cooler than i will ever be

- i am more into tmag than a person should be

- i have chronic joint pain because my bones and genetics hate me

-i am a philosophy student. Yes i am a stereotype. Yes my faculty is tragically underfunded. Yes i am a pretentious fuck. For the bit ofc.

- idk what else about me is memorable.

#mine thoughts#it me#me#lesbian#autistic#non binary#enby#soft masc
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Reblogged vaspider
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reblog to tell a 14 year old that these are the very, very hard years and they're not wrong to feel the way they do.

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I had a fifteen minute long crying session yesternight over the fact that all I was 10 years ago, at the ripe old age of 14, is lost and lonely, and now, at 24, I am neither and that filled me with so much gratitude

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reblog to tell a teenager that these aren’t actually the best years of your life and that things can and will get better when you have independance and maybe are away from your situation right now.

Its me reblog to tell me that

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Reblogged carby
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pretty sure i just lost my editing gig to ai. hate and fucking war on planet earth.

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like they've already made it very clear by a) ghosting me for months and b) getting my colleagues to train their stupid new ai. like i only know about this because one of my colleagues tipped me off. i imagine they're waiting to get it working before they formally let me go and fuck that. i am literally drafting my resignation lmao

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guys. there has been an update. my spy colleague has informed me that my ex-boss is backtracking. the ai was supposed to speed things up because apparently i was unavailable too often but it turns out that another colleague has been lying about me telling him i was unavailable. i have email receipts proving this never happened.

this colleague also has beef with me because his documents were always garbage and i came back with a million corrections and called him out for mass copy-pasting. so he was just skipping the editing and saying i said i couldn't do it. and i lost my job because of it.

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ex-boss backtracked and ended up asking me if i'd come back not as a freelance contractor but on an actual employment basis.

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i declined.

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shoutout to all the people reblogging the version of this before my rejection letter. and especially shoutout to those people saying they're happy for me and that there's justice on this earth. i regret to inform you that my version of justice means choosing violence.

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A tragedy happens in the village. Maybe it’s a fire, or a flood. It doesn’t matter. People die. It’s a tragedy, after all. The ones that are left wail and grieve and scream for the loss. I don’t. It is not that I don’t feel it, truly I do. But it seems my body was not made to scream and wail. I hurt, though, in my own way. I keep my loved one’s clothes under my bed. I wear their jewellery. But I do not cry, I do not speak my hurt.

The rumours start in the weeks after the tragedy. Quietly, at first. “They still haven’t cried?” “why don’t they put up pictures of their loved ones like us?”. I pay it no mind and continue weaving my loved one’s stories into mine quietly. Then comes the suspicion. “Why do they not wail? Why do they not scream? They must not feel, then”. Still, I pay it no mind. After all, I grew up here. These people knew me my whole life, I am safe here. Finally, suddenly, their anger rises. “You aren’t human” ”They’ve never felt anything, even as a child!” “Something is deeply wrong with you, how could you not scream and wail??” “They aren’t one of us. It’s a monster.” “It is evil” “Keep your children away from it!” “Monster!”

Monster. Monster. Monster. The word tumbles in my mind. They stopped talking to me, then looking at or feeding me. I’ve lost my loved ones’ clothing, their jewellery, as I was deemed an unworthy keeper. Without them, I desperately try not to forget those who died. The villagers taunt me, asking me questions about my loved ones that I cannot answer, as if it is proof I did not love them. But even now, despairing, I do not cry. I do not wail or scream. “The monster cannot feel.” Their eyes pierce my skin now. Where they first looked away, now they stare with hatred. “Maybe the monster wanted this tragedy.” “Maybe it caused it!” “Of course it did, it is a monster. Inhuman.” “Revenge! Death to the monster!”

I’m stripped of my clothing now, not even allowed to remember who I am. In a daze I watch the people who fed me bottles and taught me to walk, scream and plead for my death. Their words now stone, the blows mix with the jeers and laughs. “Look at the monster yelping out!” “Oh, so now you cry? Only for yourself? Selfish beast.” “What a funny sound it makes when I hit it right there!” When the second stone hits my head, I end.

The villagers leave the monster’s bloody and battered corpse where it is, and tell their children not to look at it. They congratulate themselves on their good deed, how they kept the village safe from a monster that caused such a tragedy. It is dead now, their loved ones vindicated. Hooray, the monster is dead. Was it ever even human to begin with? It can’t have been, humans scream and wail. It didn’t. It only kept trinkets. Monster. It was a good deed to kill it. It was inhuman. They’re sure it was. It was. It had to be.

#short story#mine thoughts#it me#me#autism spectrum#autistic#autism#actually autism#tw violence#writing#any feedback is appreciated
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Reblogged some-bug
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go to settings > dashboard > interface and turn on show timestamps. please. do this for me i'm begging

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i'm so serious about this. without timestamps you don't know when a post was originally made. every day on this website i see people reblogging years-old articles, freaking out like something is recent news. i see people getting slammed for shit they long apologized for that's getting dragged out as if it just happened. old outdated science and history posts, recall warnings from five years ago, politics discussions that make no sense now.

this isn't just an issue with tumblr's settings, although the fact that timestamps are opt-in is fucking bonkers. people do not read dates on posts, on articles, on anything, and behave as if everything they see on the internet, now over 30 years old, is brand new and currently relevant. look at dates! remember that things from 2022 are not as relevant as they might appear to be! stop mindlessly repeating things you don't even pay enough attention to to know when they happened!

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this is the only post of mine i've ever actually wanted to blow up please use your big beautiful brains to actually know when something happened

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Reblogged
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If any of you ever happened to be walking along Hollywood boulevard in the late 1960s and saw a man fall out of a 12 story building that was under construction, grab the cable attached to a crane right outside, swing across Hollywood boulevard while hanging onto the crane for dear life, and swing directly back into the building he just fell out of, that was my grandfather.

He’s fine, he just became scared of heights after that.

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My grandpa has had a wacky life and I’m sort of surprised he’s made it to 88 but I’m glad he has. Still kicking. Still eating soup. The man loves soup.

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Other things I’m surprised didn’t kill him:

  • Cancer. Twice.
  • Got attacked by a bull and had to throw a rooster at it to distract it and not get impaled
  • Had to pay protection money to the mafia
  • Accidentally insulted the leader of that particular mafia he had to pay protection money to
  • Fell off a sled, lost all feeling in his right leg from the injury, and had to be driven to the hospital by his at the time 17 year old girlfriend (my grandma) who had never driven in the snow before that day
  • Heart surgery. Twice.
  • Got in a heated and loud argument with the actual Barbara Streisand
  • Helped a guy working on a tracking device (pre gps) he was refusing to sell to the government during the Cold War
  • Nearly got bit by a rattlesnake that was trying to attack my mother. Twice.
  • Stroke. Twice.
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Oh this wasn’t one of the things that almost killed him but he worked on the Sheetrock in the World Trade Center and whenever we talk about 9/11 he’s like “wasn’t due to anything I did” and we’re like yeah you just did the Sheetrock I don’t think you were flying the planes

A lot of it ended up in the dust over New York City though. That dust is still causing problems in people that breathed it in. If you were in NYC the 5 months after 9/11 sorry about your lungs. Not my grandpa’s fault though.

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Reblogged
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telling someone "you know it can't love you back, right? 🙄 if it's in the house with you when you die, it will eat your corpse without hesitation" about their husband

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Reblogged some-bug
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if you ever find yourself thinking “wow I scraped the bottom of the barrel with my energy with that and came out okay!” that’s the devil talking. you did not come out okay. you borrowed energy from the future. you will repay it if you don’t rest and replenish the borrowed energy first.

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this one took off quickly - are you guys ok

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WIZARD PSA: Chronomancy might be weird and confusing, but one of the few solid rules of the discipline is keep your promises. Time is a library, and you don't want to meet the librarian.