“We were good together. What happened?”
six words (stephenstilwell)
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“Why does Tumblr romanticize Hades so much?”
Idk Clarice, maybe we’re just tired, and life is uncertain, and we like the idea of a stable husband with a steady job and a big dog and his own place away from all the loud, shapeshifting-kink party gods.
- Persephone ghost wrote this.
Schizophrenia and the loss of personality
I have schizoaffective disorder, and I’ve had it a long time. Through the years I’ve been psychotic, I’ve noticed something about the way psychotics, but particularly schizophrenia-spectrum patients are treated by society: like we have no personality.
The prototypical schizophrenic is a mindless, remorseless killer or a mental patient. And think about how that mental patient is portrayed. White gown (possibly blood stained), incoherent, straight jacket or bed restraints. Devoid or personal identity or autonomy. And the schizophrenic killer, how is he (and it is always a he) portrayed? Usually with his face hidden. We are just objects to be feared, pitied, or both. Never are we humans with complex personalities and histories.
How do we fix this? We need better representation in the media, but the mainstream entertainment industry has proven time and time again they won’t do it. We need to get our own stories out there. I’ve said before to live openly as a psychotic person, to talk about your illness. And that’s an excellent thing to do. But I think it’s also important to go a step further and create about your illness, to further spread awareness as to what it’s truly like to be a person with a schizophrenia spectrum disorder. Use your writing, art, music, what have you, and take the mask off schizophrenia.
i just had the weirdest moment, i was feeling my front teeth with my tongue because they’re the tiniest bit crooked, and then i had the thought “i’ll check if they’re also crooked in my other mouth” and then i realized to my shock and confusion that i have only one mouth, leading me to believe that in a past life i was a terrible monster with two mouths
A few months ago, I thought to myself “Mmm I’m so tired… how much longer in this one again?” and I knew instinctively what I meant by ‘this one’ was this body and this life. I then spend a few wide-eyed moments having an identity/existential crisis like how many times have I been on this earth to have such an instinctive response to being bone-weary to my soul? No one can really answer, especially not me.
Thanksgiving is probably the holiday when the least sex occurs because everyone is too stuffed to be stuffed
What if Bob Ross didn’t have a fro?
What if he was a bald black gentleman?
What if he was 6′3″ and 240 pounds?
What if he could bench press a small horse?
Watch Terry Crews channel the spirit of Bob complete with happy little trees!
“aphrodite and persephone sit together pressed too close their breath mingling eyes shiningwhat is love persephone asks and aphrodite chokes on her tongue love to her has always meant sunlight and a dark haired girl with red lips and wild eyes who sits pressed too close love is her hands as she dances in the sand by the shore her feet that kick up the surf when she spins and laughs with pure joy aphrodite says love is soft and pink and flutters like the heart of a dove when love has always meant blood and shark teeth and firelight persephone nods because aphrodite just described herself and persephone loves her fawnsoft hands and hair like gold and the way her smile starts just at the corners and then spreads a flower blooming when persephone is lead in by hades silver tongue and spider traps aphrodite watches and feels her dove heart die a tiny sobbing death persephone returns yes but aphrodite sayswhat is love and she answers it is roots and darkness and the taste of pomegranates because she has a husband now and it won’t do to live in silly childhood fantasy dreaming of kissing the inside your best friends wrist just to know the taste of her skin aphrodite nods because persephone has a husband now and it won’t do to wonder what your best friend feels like pressed to every inch of your body or what it would feel like to press yourself to every inch of hers and besides she worries what she would do if persephone still tasted like pomegranates”
— the worst tragedy is a goddess made of love who’s heart is broken (via charmiides)
Constellation
I love she who loves another and
Sometimes that means finding the place
Just right
In the middle of our bed
While she shares his instead…
And smiling at her happiness
Their love.
I’m not the sun
But i do try to give her light
Be a star in her sky
Which has other bright spots
ladygaybeale