why the world hates us

Its really sucks you know,
being the person who always gives too much. the one friend who deals with everyone’s issues no matter the time or day, the girl who will stand by her friends and hold her ground for them.

And then to turn around and feel absolutely no support, to be surrounded by people who take everything from you and offer nothing in return.

I am through being used by fake friends who will throw you under a bus to better themselves the moment they have the chance.

Funny how people assume SU criticals are just a bunch of killjoys when in reality we get bugged on a daily basis from sadistic anons for having pretty important, thought-provoking and serious conversations with each other on where a self-labeled “progressive” show starts to fall flat. 

Like, this show used to make a lot of us happy. We saw ourselves in the characters. We could relate to their experiences. And for all of that to be thrown out the window really hurts, man. So we talk about it, try to figure out where it went wrong and why we never saw it coming. 

Bruh, the world already hates people like us. Mentally ill, autistic, non-white, disabled, LGBTQ, we’re hated and in some places slaughtered like cows. We need to talk about one of the pieces of media that claims to stand with us, and if you can’t understand that, then leave us alone until you do.

I am going to say this, though: deep down, it’s not even about Trump. It’s about what he represents. It’s about the fact that millions of people subscribe to his views. It’s about the fact that these people truly believe that Trump’s idea of a perfect world is the one worth voting for. It’s about the fact that so many people, all over the world and not only in America, believe that progress and equality are something to be overturned. That the world I want to live in is bad. That’s what’s so upsetting. That’s what I’m afraid of. That’s why I hate what’s happened all over the world this year. 

One summer, somewhere during a summer of middle school, I was watching YouTube on the family computer and I turned around to see my grandfather having a seizure. Kris had to call 911 while mom stuck a spoon in his mouth

After that, my grandfather stopped drinking and he started taking medicine for the first time in the years after his wife died.

Except he had to take a lot of different medicines. And we had to make sure he took all of them
I don’t remember how it happened, but for at least three years, but probably four, until I went away to college, I was the one in charge of maintaining my grandfather’s medications. Each week,
I set out the pills he would need each night and each morning into his pill organized and, when he was running low, I was the one who had to call to order refills.

I grew to hate this chore. Each week sitting down at the dining room table, which served only as a storage for mail left unanswered, filling these prescriptions, being depended on to do this every week, being reminded each week the ease at which my grandfather could die.

The week before I left for college, my grandfather said, “you’ll need to come back every week to do these for me,” he meant it as a joke, as if that weekly chore wasn’t part of the reason I desperately needed to get away, as if it was something I wanted to do.

And, five years later, I don’t always remember the pills upon pills I set out each week. But each Sunday night, now that I’m home, my mom will say, “Oh, I forgot to do my pills,” and my heart sinks and I am afraid, a dread that wills my very existence into non-existence, that she will ask me to do them for her.

Which I cannot. But because I have never been able to deny my mother anything (not involving money), I see myself sitting at the table, tears falling angrily and silently, fuming at how much has not changed.

Wow, psych2go reblogged my autism acceptance post and it’s already got over 100 notes.

I’m kind of scared that it’ll turn into some feel good story for NT’s when I’m the autistic person telling the story. I’m afraid of being skipped out of my own narrative. I just thought it was cool that my director took care of something for me while I was debating with myself about asking. 

I always think it’s funny when somebody does a thing I’m thinking of asking them about because it’s like they read my mind.

I don’t mind that the post is going around so much as I worry it’ll end up on the news or something. I don’t want that.

I did take advantage of the post getting big because I saw an opportunity. 

I went into the comments section of the post and noted that Autism Speaks is evil and plugged ASAN instead. Anyone who clicks the notes is going to see that. >:D

[These are the words that Autism Speaks uses to talk about autsitic people and our families: “Crisis, burden, barely living, despair, fear, missing, crusade, battle, desperate” Our lives are beautiful, complex and valuable, but Autism Speaks is telling the world to hate us. This is why I boycott Autism Speaks.]

Title: breaking tradition

Prompt: Power/Kuchiyose

It’S SARADA WEEK BITCHES. IM SO HAPPY. I didn’t even remember until today omg. Thankfully this piece came out very easily! Let’s rejoice in the existence of our little bean <3

Sometimes, Sarada wondered if the black tomoes of her sharingan would ever take another shape.

She had not learned much about the sharingan itself; Mama didn’t know much of anything about it, and Papa simply never went too in depth. She wondered why—wasn’t it their clan’s kekkei genkai? Sometimes, it felt like Papa was trying to protect her somehow.

Sarada didn’t like that very much.

“Hey, Papa?” she asked one morning, poking at her half-finished piece of tamagoyaki. When she heard Papa hum attentively, she bit the inside of her cheek. “Why don’t you ever talk to me about the sharingan?”

She watched as her Papa flinched, hand halting in the midst of flipping over his own portion of breakfast, before he resumed a moment later, seemingly thinking over his answer.

“Why do you want to talk about the sharingan?” Papa finally asked, maneuvering the cooking pan to slip his own piece of tamagoyaki on a plate. He met her eyes briefly, gaze calm as it always was, and made his way to their dining table to join her.

Sarada poked at her food again. “Why not?” she settled on saying, frowning lightly. “It’s my—our kekkei genkai. Shouldn’t I want to learn about it?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

M!a they are girls for same amount of asks as Nekos LOL

Dash:…why does the world hate us?

Female!Savior:What happened?

Female!Dash:We’re girls now.

10 ask

I respect Clara so much for standing up to the Doctor and calling him out on his dickish behaviour towards her and the rest of the human race. But what I can’t fathom is why Moffat writes Twelve like that in the first place.

  • me usually: tbh the mentality that a lot of americans have of being #1 in the world is so annoying and narcissistic and is why most of the world hates us
Too Good To Be True

What happens when Jimin catches Jungkook reading Jikook fanfiction?

Jungkook’s hands explored Jimin’s body as they were drowning in each other’s lips. Jungkook couldn’t believe that this was happening, that it was all real. It just seemed too good to be true…

“It is actually way too good to be true,” the real life Jungkook thought dejectedly, as he continued scrolling through the fanfiction. Of course, he was reading in the far corner of his dorm room at ten thirty at night, because it would be quite embarrassing for another member to find him reading fanfiction of him and Jimin.

He was mentally prepared to lie and say that a fan suggested to try reading a BTS fanfic, even though it wasn’t really the case. If he was really told to read one, he would read one that he isn’t part of. But here he is, reading a Jikook fanfiction.

Pretty soon, he door started to creak open. Jungkook was just about to finish the chapter, but then he heard a familiar voice saying his name.

Oh, shit.

Jungkook was mentally prepared (but kind of not) to deal with the other members, but he very stupidly forgot about Jimin.

Jungkook quickly scrambled to close the chapter, but ended up dropping his phone on the floor. Praying to God that he didn’t break it, Jungkook went to pick it up, only to be face to face with Jimin, holding his phone. Did he teleport or something?

“Um… here’s your phone. I just wanted to ask you where you hid the ice cream.” Jimin was about to hand Jungkook’s phone back, but stopped. “What were you doing so intently that you dropped your phone?”

Okay, what was Jungkook supposed to say? ‘Oh, I was just reading a fanfiction about us, and I didn’t want you to see because it is embarrassing as hell’? Of course not. He settled for something like “I was just surprised.”

Jimin didn’t look convinced. “I called your name three times.”

Okay, now Jungkook is screwed. 

While Jungkook was thinking of an excuse, Jimin was reading the fanfic open on Jungkook’s phone.

“I thought you didn’t like me.” 

“Can you put that down now? I can explain-”

“Okay.” Jimin put the phone down on the table. “Now you can explain.”

Usually, when someone says ‘I can explain’, they don’t end up explaining. Why did the world have to hate Jungkook so much?

“I kind of ship us.” Jungkook looked down at the floor, trying his best to avoid looking Jimin in the eye. 

“Well, why didn’t you just tell me? You know how much I like you too.”

“It’s just embarrassing! It feels weird to just tell you, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure about my feelings too. I read fanfiction, because it’s pretty entertaining, but also because I want to read about what am too scared to do in real life.”

Jimin laughed quietly. If Jungkook wasn’t so embarrassed, he would admit that it sounds beautiful. 

“You do realize that you just told me right now?

Jungkook groaned. “I’m just tired.”

Jimin shook his head exasperatedly. “You would’ve continued reading if I didn’t walk in.”

“No, really. I want to sleep.”

Jungkook expected Jimin to just walk out the room. What actually happened, was that Jimin leaned over, gave Jungkook a small peck on the lips and whispered, “I was not kidding every time I said that I liked you.” Then he walked out of the room.

Jungkook literally pinched himself to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming. 

الإنسان الحرهو إللي بيوقف ضد الغلط لما يشوفه، عشان هيك إحنا كفلسطينيين مكروهين من العالم، عشنا أحرار

“A free person is someone who stands against wrong, that’s why the world hates us [Palestinians], because we are a free people.”

 - Deep Quotes by my Dad.


I think this is more of an observation than a confession but I’m noticing that the impact anti black racism has on people seems to be such a hard to understand concept for white and non black people. Like, so many honestly have NO CLUE! I’m not even talking about the racists, the ones that act like it isn’t a big deal are much worse than the racists, because they’re silently and unconsciously condoning it! Or they just think we are overreacting or being mean and discriminatory when we have our discussions and safe spaces for black people only. Why is #blackgirlsrock still a controversy?? Why do people still get upset about black history month? Why is it that when we speak on cultural appropriation we are hit with the “well if black girls wear weave and fake nails and eyelashes and colored contacts etc….” As if that even compares??? How sociopathic is single handedly ripping an entire group of people apart to shreds over a period of CENTURIES and beating it in their heads that they’ll never amount to anything and will never be seen as beautiful, smart, educated, respectable if you don’t look like this? AND THEN TURN AROUND AND MOCK AND LAUGH AT US FOR TRYING TO BE ACCEPTED TO YOUR STANDARDS JUST TO BE TREATED LIKE PEOPLE??? That sounds so insane! Literally insane!
Blonde hair isn’t a white trait. Blue and green eyes aren’t a white trait. Long hair isn’t exclusively a white trait. Majority of white people got brown hair and brown eyes so why they fuck do they seem to think they’re original??? But what’s worse is that people believe it, and mock US for not having those things. A white woman can dye her hair blonde and put in blue contacts and niggas will think it was her natural self, even though her roots CLEARLY need a touch up because that naturally brown hair is showing through lmfao!
But there are just so so SO many levels to anti black racism from colorism to cultural appropriation to fetishization to subtle racism the list goes so far on. It’s like one of those issues that’s so huge that it takes YEARS to unlearn for black people alone, and then we have to turn around and educate millions of other people? It’s such a heavy burden that I don’t understand why it was placed on our shoulders. I used to wonder, ask God why people like me had to be the ones the world hates the most. Why everyone has been taught to hate us, why we’ve been told to hate each other. This isn’t even just in America. This is GLOBAL! It’s almost inescapable!
But then I look at what we do have: though we may get weak, we still muster up strength to get through. We may cry, but we wipe out tears, put on a banging body con dress and sway our hips with pride. How we fluff our weave or our Afros with our heads held high. How we unapologetically love ourselves, and have the wisdom and kindness and love to teach the rest of our girls the same. The beauty of the black woman is ethereal. 🙏🏾❤️