Lets talk insecurities: “Now what in the fuck are those red bumps?”
If you notice that your upper arms, thighs, or other such expanses of skin have little red bumps on them pretty much all the time, you might have Keratosis Pilaris.
Before I got the official word from a dermatologist in 7th grade, I was fuckin’ terrified that I had some kind of horrible, potentially deadly affliction, because practically no one I know has any idea it exists despite the fact that 40-50% of adults have it.
Its not contagious. It is a totally harmless genetic condition, and its basically what happens when your body produces too much keratin and doesn’t know what to do with it.
My mom has it, her mom has it, my aunts and uncles have it, and so does Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.
KP is not psoriasis, acne, goosebumps, eczema, or a case of the “herps” (though they aren’t mutually exclusive. See a doctor if you have any doubt about something medical that pertains to you.)
Though there is no “cure”, KP can be mitigated with Keratolytic treatments such as Vitamin D and lactic acid. Keeping your skin from getting dry helps quite a bit, and popping your KP is a bad idea because that can cause scarring.
And PLEASE don’t be a dick to people. Don’t say things like “Wow your skin is so red/bumpy!”. You never know how much those statements can hurt someone, and nobody likes to have their flaws pointed out. I still refrain from exposing my upper arms to people because of it, but its really nothing to be ashamed of.
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Virgil lived in a world without color. Every day he opened his eyes to a grey world with a grey sky and grey grass. You see, in Virgil’s world you only began to see color when you found your soulmate. Happy couples always told of their first time seeing color and how amazing it was. His friend Logan always tried to explain the colors to him but he could never picture them. Virgil always felt as if he would never find his soulmate. He often wondered if he will ever find love and see the rich colors of the world. He wanted to see crisp green, bright yellow, cool blue and warm red. Sadly Virgil could not see those colors yet.
It happened at school. In the middle of November with an early snowstorm approaching, all the teenagers knew they would have a free day tomorrow so they were doing less work and more chatter except for Virgil who continued to stare at the box of markers sitting on his desk. His eyes were practically burning holes into it, as if he would be able to will colors into his world. He had memorized each word when he was young but still never saw the colors.
Green, Virgil thought, like the grass and the trees. Like lettuce and cucumbers, a crisp, cool color.
He went over the colors and their descriptions over and over again until his teacher cleared his throat and he looked up. There was a boy standing next to his teacher looking at his feet.
“Good morning class, this is Patton. He is a new student that will be joining us.” Mr. Blake said happily.
When the boy looked up he made eye contact with Virgil. Virgil marveled at the boy’s beauty. He never thought he could really see beauty without color but this boy was it. He wondered what color his eyes were. Brown? Blue? Maybe hazel?
Patton sat next to Virgil and he gave him a smile, “Hello, I’m Patton. Nice to meet you.” He stuck his hand out.
“Hi, I’m Virgil.” He says and went to shake Patton’s hand.
As soon as the boys’ hands touched Virgil’s world changed before his very eyes. His eyes widened as his world became brighter and more beautiful. He looked down at his markers. Red and green and blue and purple.
His eyes met Patton’s- beautiful brown like chestnuts and chocolate -and they filled with tears. Patton was nearly crying too.
“You see it too?” Virgil asked through his crying.
“Yes, Virgil, I see it too.” Patton responded happily.
Slowly their classmates realized what happened and everyone cheered for the pair.
“Would you like to hang out sometime? Apparently we are supposed to.” Virgil said timidly.
Patton gave a chuckle, “I would love to Virgil.”
Years passed since the day that Patton walked into Virgil’s life. Virgil sat at a table in a beautiful restaurant waiting for the man he loved with his whole heart. It had been nearly twenty minutes since Patton said he was on the way, it shouldn’t have taken him so long but Virgil tried to push away his worries to focus on the velvet box in his pocket.
Suddenly his world of color started fading. His phone rings and he picked it up with wide eyes and shaky hands, “Hello?”
“Is this Virgil?” Someone on the other end asked.
“Y-yes.” He answered with a stutter.
“We just brought in Patton. Can you please come to Gracie Square Hospital as soon as possible? Patton was in a car wreck.” The man said.
Virgil’s eyes widened as his eyes began to tear up. No, not my Patton please. He shoved his phone in his pocket and tried his best to ignore his vision that was flickering between color and grey as he left the restaurant and got into his car.
After a stressful ride he finally arrived at the hospital. He rushed in and went up to the desk, “Where is Patton?”
“They brought him in fifteen minutes ago, sir. He is stable for now but we don’t know how long it will last.” The nurse explained as she walked him through the Emergency room to Patton.
The nurse left him at the door. He walked in and tears gathered in his eyes as he saw Patton on the bed looking so very broken. He sat in the chair and grabbed Patton’s hand.
Patton’s eyes cracked open slowly, “Hey…”
Tears fell from Virgil’s eyes as he smiled, “Hey. How are you?”
“I feel like I just got hit by a car.” Patton smiled as he made the joke.
Virgil chuckled at the other man, knowing his love was a complete smart-alec and loved to make him laugh with his remarks. He sighed, looking at his broken lover, “Want to know why I wanted to take you out to eat tonight?”
Patton’s eyes widened as Virgil got down on one knee and pulled out the velvet box. He popped it open, “Patton, will you marry me?”
Patton gives a weak smile as tears gather in his eyes, “Yes Virgil…”
As Virgil slips the ring on Patton, Patton’s eyes roll back and his heart rate speeds up.
“Nurse!” Virgil screams as his beautiful world starts to fade in and out again.
Doctors rush in and crowd the room, trying to save the dying man. Virgil stands behind them, praying to every god that there is. He begs nobody for Patton to live.
Once his word goes grey again, he knows Patton is gone forever.
Years later Virgil is in a library reading a book. He has never found anyone quite like Patton so he just decided to wait until he met him on the other side. He knew he could never love anyone quite like Patton. He’s gotten used to being back in his grey world and he is okay. He still gets depressed every once in awhile just remembering Patton’s beautiful brown eyes.
He sighs and stands up, walking towards the entrance when he bumps into someone as he walks past an aisle.
“Sorry about that.” Virgil says sincerely, “I’m Virgil.”
“I’m Roman.” The man he bumped into replies.
As they shake hands Roman’s eyes widen, “Do you see it too?”
Virgil tilts his head, “See what?”
Roman’s look of amazement quickly turns into a look of hurt and confusion, “You don’t see the colors?”
Virgil shakes his head and smiles a sad smile, “I haven’t seen color in a long time.”
“I-I- how?” Roman’s eyes fill with tears.
“I’m sorry, I don’t see any colors. My soulmate is gone.” Virgil says and his broken heart cracks a little more again.
“There has to be a mistake.” Roman cries, “I-I have to go.”
Roman runs out of the library and Virgil continues on pondering the man’s predicament and truly feeling sorry for him.
Speaking of under appreciated mutants, let’s talk about Forget-Me-Not.
Out of all of the under appreciated X-Men, I feel like Forget-Me-Not has gotten probably the best treatment by writers. He actually has shown up as an important character in multiple series, and he has been pretty consistently written. He is just a nice dude who wishes people would remember him and appreciate him, but continues to do good even when people don’t cause he is genuinely a good guy.
He also has a pretty unique power- people literally can’t remember him. He is like the Silence in Doctor Who, the moment you look away, you forget he was ever there. Xavier had to literally set up a reminder in his own brain so that he would remember Forget-Me-Not existed and could say good morning to him (yah, I know, Xavier wasn’t an asshole for once. Small miracles.)
He has been instrumental in several major conflicts, yet nobody can remember him even being there.
It’s quite sad, really, but he manages to keep a sort of positive attitude. I especially like his design- it emphasizes the fact that he is a just a regular, ordinary guy.
I rarely post things on my tumblr like this but getting messages everyday with random medical advice (or even in public) from healthy friends or strangers finally made me have to speak out. I am a very positive bubbly person and I make the most out of every day but I felt this needed to be said on behalf of all of us chronic illness sufferers.
Dear non-spoonies (healthy people that do not have a chronic illness or disability),
As you can see in this picture I am getting ready to go volunteer at the zoo tonight as I’ve been a volunteer for 5 years and volunteer at many other places as well. Without TPN and medical care I wouldn’t be alive and I wouldn’t be able to go do the things I love like volunteering cosplaying playing video games and most of all enjoying being an 18 year old as I make the most of every day I’m given. I believe that God put people here who become doctors and come up with medical advancements for a reason. Please do not sit there and tell me I am not a true Christian because I need medical care to live. You do not have a right to judge my faith you aren’t God. TPN (IV nutrition), my central line, my wheelchair, and all my other medical devices and medications give me back what Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, complete digestive tract paralysis,and my several other chronic illness have taken from me; thriving not just surviving and simply living to see another day. It’s great that natural remedies and herbs help some people but everyone is different please understand that. I don’t even understand how people can sit there and ask me “did you try changing your diet? If you had eaten organically you would be fine” My entire digestive tract is 100% paralyzed. I have a rare connective tissue disorder that has cause me to lose my ability to walk. Do not tell me I am not trying hard enough or I gave up. And no I am not over exaggerating my pain or symptoms, I do quite the opposite by trying my best to hide it.If one more person sits there and tells me that “You wouldn’t be sick if you just did ________ or tried __________” I am going to lose my patience. I know people are trying to help and I appreciate it but you aren’t a doctor and you do not know my entire medical history. Nobody can understand what it is like to be disabled or chronically ill unless you actually are. Your 24 hour stomach bug or sprained ankle are not the same thing as my rare complex incurable chronic illnesses. I do not want you to fight my battles for me, I just want you to stand by my side as I fight them myself. It’s not your fault you can’t truly understand, I’m glad you can’t because you are healthy. Please realize it’s okay to admit you don’t understand I would prefer that over you invalidating my situation with your “relevant” stories. I just want your support and that is it. I do not want sympathy, I do not want pity, I don’t need advice unless I ask for it, I just want your support.
a professional spoonie (person with chronic illness)
Yeah I'm very familiar with the differences between sex and gender. And very much agree that we need to stop associating gender with sex. It's all so arbitrary. Plus. I'm sure you're familiar with intersex and that there isn't just 2 sexes- so how do intersex and other people on the continuum fit into gender-critical analysis? Also, (sorry that was a lot to read, some gets a little jumbled) does that mean that a trans woman (identifying as a women) would be excluded from feminism?
I mentioned that exclusion because I’ve seen some gender critical people say that type of thing. And I’m just a little confused about it. I agree-fuck gender. But until we live in a society that has abolished the association between gender and sex, should there be respect for some peoples current gender identifications? Sorry if this stuff doesn’t make sense, or is misinterpretation of what you said, I’ve just heard so many different arguments and what not and I’m just trying to get clear By the way, I have been trying to read a lot of your posts to try and get a real understanding. Has helped alittle bit but yeah haha. And also I keep seeing stuff that kind of ignored the fact that some people aren’t born strictly male or female. Hermaphrodites and other types of intersex don’t really have a set sex category so how do they fit in?
Hey! Thanks for sending all your questions. They are not dumb at all, and I agree, there is a lot going on here and it’s really easy to get jumbled! You sent a lot of new questions in these asks, so I’ll deal with each question individually.
First and most importantly, sex is NOT a continuum. That is a falsehood originally perpetrated by the scientist Anne Fausto-Sterling. She deliberately misrepresented her own data, and the concept of “sex continuum” quickly gained traction in the early 1990’s with the nascent post-modernist queer scene, which was bent on proving that “everything we knew about sex and gender is WRONG!” I don’t know whether you were born already in 1992 ;), so you’ll have to believe me (or do your own research) - but queer theory was basically nothing more than a bunch of privileged, spoiled brats throwing an intellectual temper tantrum.
Anyway I recently posted about an article debunking Fausto-Sterling’s “sex continuum”. Cliffs notes: more than 99.98% of people are unambiguously male or female. Every single person who isn’t drunk on queer theory or deliberately misusing science knows this. This also extends to other mammals, because mammals are sexually dimorphic. In my life, I’ve met a number of males who said they were intersex because they started to grow breasts in puberty. While uncommon, gynecomastia (male breast growth) alone doesn’t mean a person is intersex. Furthermore, they all had other physical characteristics which marked them as unambiguously male - height out of female norm, hand size out of female norm, their voices had changed, etc. Watch this clip from the documentary about Tiffany superfans/stalkers, and tell me you think the “intersex” stalker is female, or even part female? Not so much!
That said, Intersex people certainly exist: so what is the reality of intersex? It is certainly not the “sexy hermaphrodites” of Fausto-Sterling’s own fantasies: such a condition (having a penis and a vagina) is vanishingly rare, if it even exists. And as the Tiffany fan demonstrates, it doesn’t mean being androgynous. Unfortunately, many of the actual intersex conditions are accompanied by other health problems. This fact makes it even poorer taste for trans activists to use intersex people as pawns in their “sex continuum” or “sex is a social construct” arguments. And furthermore, it belies the popular argument trans people and allies like to make, “Well I haven’t had my chromosomes tested so ~nobody knows~ what sex I really am”. Actually, if you’ve reached your twenties and you’re healthy, sorry but nobody needs to check your DNA to see if you are “really” male or female - you are, end of story!
The other reason that it’s really distasteful to bring intersex people up in trans debates, is that until quite recently many intersex children had genital surgery performed on them as infants in order to “fix” them, often with negative results. This is where the terms “assigned male” and “assigned female” come from: doctors would decide on a surgical and gender-assignment plan for babies with “ambiguous” genitalia. When trans activists use these terms, they are appropriating the very real pain experienced by intersex people who were abused as infants and children by the medical system. Personally, it makes me feel sick!
So, what about trans women and feminism? First, since you know the difference between sex and gender, then you know that trans women are male. Not only are trans women born male, we stay male our whole lives. We can take female hormones, get surgeries, remove our male-pattern body hair (eg beard), etc. People may assume we are female most or all of the time. But, we’re still male! Our chromosomes haven’t changed, and our genes haven’t changed, and the underlying structures of our bodies - our male-typical bone lengths and densities, organ sizes etc - haven’t changed. The health risks we face are significantly different than people born female, and they always will be, since we’re not female. Likewise, trans men still face health risks that are unique to females. This is just reality!
Where gender comes in, as far as trans people go, is that some trans people occupy the social role of the sex they are not. Meaning, using myself as an example: in a social sense I am a woman, even though I’m male. I know that I’m a woman not because I “say so”, but because people place similar social expectations on me as they do on my other female friends. (Probably because they assume I’m female; possibly, because they know I’m trans and don’t want to hurt my feelings.) However, not all trans people occupy their target gender. Please watch this video of America’s “highest paid female executive” and the creepy robot he’s making of his wife, and tell me this person isn’t still a man. Seriously! I have eyes and so do you. Likewise, watch this video of “trans woman” Meryl Fortney. Would you be comfortable alone in a room with that guy? He does say he “feels like a woman”, whatever the fuck that means to him, but I’m kinda not buying it.
Everyone needs to accept that humans are sexually dimorphic, and leave intersex people out of debates relating to trans issues.
Sex change doesn’t exist. A few trans people pass as the opposite sex, but most don’t. No matter what, sex doesn’t change.
It’s polite to respect a person’s gender self-identification, as long as there isn’t an improper purpose attached to it. Unfortunately, many trans women’s self-identification is intimately tied to violence against women!
Feminism needs to remain a movement by and for the liberation of females. Trans women may participate in feminism to the extent that misogyny (mistakenly) effects us, but we should never take leadership positions within feminism, and attempts to re-focus feminism on trans women (aka males) are inherently anti-feminist.
Where does a musician go after spending an entire career outside the orbits of traditional hip-hop, R&B, pop, and rock? How does one keep the public guessing—or even interested? By continuing to go against the norm.
Love him or hate him, Scott Mescudi’s always had a knack for that. At midnight on Monday night, he wrote another chapter in the Cudi chronicles, dropping his fifth album, Satellite Flight, virtually out of nowhere.
This latest twist in the artist’s wide-ranging career continues to explore his thematic obsession with space across 10 tracks, four of them instrumentals and six adorned with lyrics. Falling in line with Cudi’s musical DNA, the songs are singular creations that don’t align with anything his contemporaries are up to. Which makes sense, because Cudi’s always been interested in exploring what’s beyond his sonic atmosphere. His fans already know Cudi’s penchant for finding whatever else is out there.
While Cudi’s been busy doing junkets for his role in the upcoming action blockbuster Need For Speed, which opens on March 14, he’s been tight-lipped about new music. Aside from a few Tweets, Cudi has remained mostly silent on the matter, until speaking with Complex last evening. Speaking from his home in L.A., he covered everything—the music, the movies, the life.
Among the personal particulars, Cudi revealed that he recorded most of Satellite Flight sober. He also spoke about his place in the music business, where he may have been wronged, and opened up about his role in G.O.O.D. Music. With solid sales predictions for the arbitrarily dropped album trickling in—early calls see the Wicked Awesome/Republic release selling over 90K in its first week—one thing remains clear: When Cudi makes noise, people listen.
apparently i wrote nearly 3k of injured!nick and really hot massage therapist!harry all because of nick working out for a massive total of 6 minutes this morning then going on about how he HATES massages. so… here’s that
i got the initial idea from sarah styleslaurent then just kind of got carried away so THANKS PAL
also quick s/o to aimee’s nails in this one. really wanted to write at least 500 words about those babies alone, if i’m honest. i had a whole back story planned out but thought better of it last minute, so r.i.p.