People Are Like "if You Put Crabs In A Bucket They Can't Escape Because They Keep Pulling Each Other

Screaming .. what

this goes out to mothers everywhere: please try not to become deeply emotionally invested in your daughter's hair

a hanukkiah bouquet . ݁₊᪥⋆. ݁

Met an old teacher today and we got talking about ‘the good old times’ and ten minutes into the conversation I jokingly said the one regret I have from middle school is that I never won anything at her magnificent tombolas? Because, like, she used to hold this game about once a month so we’d learn the numbers in French and it was never big prizes, but as a 12-yo I desperately craved them - a cactus-shaped eraser, a bright blue notebook with slightly larger-than-usual squares, a set of coloured pens - and never ever got a single one of them. 

(Actually spent a good few months thinking I was genetically unlucky and researching ancient family curses with my grandma.) 

So today I don’t know what I was hoping for - nothing, really?

(I mean, that part of me that’s still twelve was probably expecting this sweet old woman to have a set of glitter stickers in her purse and just go ‘You know what, you’re right - I’ve been saving this one for you all these years, here you go’ but I’m a solidly rational person and I know that’s stupid.)

No, I thought we’d just laugh and it would be a good shared memory and that would be it. Instead, my teacher got flustered and a bit embarrassed and explained the game was rigged. It was never about learning French at all. She’d just noticed some kids couldn’t afford even basic stationery, so she’d buy a few half-fancy items every month with her own money just for them. She didn’t want them to feel different or left out. And obviously the way she used to walk around in the classroom, looking over our shoulders - it wasn’t to prevent cheating. It was because she was cheating herself, wanting to see which number a particular child needed to get a Minnie Mouse pencil case.

Guys - the world is fucked up, but so many people out there are just good and kind and humbly heroic it honestly gives me hope. 

It’ll be alright, you’ll see.

twitter operates on a kind of inverse of bidoof's law where you'll see some batshit hot take and check the profile but instead of porn you find out that they're like a state senator or a ceo or something

romanticize your life. i cannot stress this enough. use scented shower gel and shampoo, so you look forward to showers. go on walks and see how pretty the sky looks. notice the wildflowers on the roadside as you drive. light a candle when you get home to make your room smell good. notice & appreciate the little things in life. it won't cure your mental illness, but it'll make it easier to exist in this world.

*walks into a psychology lecture wearing a tshirt with freud’s face on it that says “THIS GUY IS A FUCKING IDIOT” in sparkly bold type*

My 10 week old foster babies enjoying their new paw-lor

People easily mistake neurodivergent speech patterns and communication styles for run-of-the-mill pretentiousness.