//midori//pi,tx//

emlyofthestate-deactivated20220:

Green apartment 💚

sapphicamydunne:

“Once you become an adult your acne will clear up!”

ukiyomood:

aristocrowcy:

kentuckyfriedbooks:

allthingshyper:

tehdoctah:

butchtj:

butchtj:

Do any other american high schoolers have intense survivor’s guilt and trauma with school shootings even though they weren’t at your school?

Like. A laser tag place opened geared towards teenagers and it got no business, we tried to enjoy it but when someone pointed a laser machine gun at me and I instinctively dropped behind the nearest wall and reached to turn off my phone I cried, I wasn’t the only one. The announcements system turns on at an unexpected time and everyone holds their breath until they say something besides “locks, lights, out of sight,” nobody even jokingly pops chip bags anymore, a door slammed really loud during a class change and everyone dropped and ran. Everyone cries during drills, even the toughest ranch kids. Every drill comes with a full day of teachers crying and telling us that they love us all so much and will die for us, and every kid in every class looking around wondering who would I die for? Who would die for me? You walk to the bathroom and wonder every second if it happens right now, where will I go? You test supply closet doors to see which ones are unlocked, you memorize which furniture in the teachers’ lounge your English teacher says is light enough to barricade a door with. The fire alarm goes off and nobody moves, instead you wait for gunshots—it a trap? You stand with a group of freshmen and realize that you’re the oldest, you know you’ll have to die for them. You forget your ID tag and worry that now the police won’t be able to tell your parents if you’re safe, or not safe. Your stats teacher has a baseball bat by the door, your math teacher keeps a stapler under each desk to throw, your drama teacher asks who will be willing to stand by the non-locking door with the Shakespearean swords. Your yearbook teacher tells you don’t worry about breaking a camera because you heard about the kids who died holding them. You don’t use the bathroom during classes because you don’t want to be the only target to shoot at. You keep your phone on silent 24/7 because you worry the one time you forget will be when you get your whole US History class killed. You have a snap saved with your class schedule and school and full name to send in an instant to your internet friends so they know if you were on that wing, you have a note saved with the things you want your mom to know and the things you’re sorry for. At the age of 12 I was told I needed to know who I would die for and that it was okay if it was nobody, that was my decision to make. School shootings control us more than adults and non-Americans could possibly imagine and nobody moves to change anything unless we’re actively screaming for it. Have you considered we’re too scared?

The absolute fuck. The fuck did I just read. This sounds like dystopian fiction. The fucking fuck.

It isn’t. This is 100% the reality of all American children - not the ones that live in bad neighborhoods, not the ones that make bad choices, ALL OF THEM.

Welcome to America.

This reminds me of a discussion we had in one of my classes the other day-

My professor was describing how everyone from her generation had the same nightmare of a nuke going off. In they dream they all saw the same mushroom cloud and everything. She said that she didn’t think my generation had a dream like that; one that everyone shared and had

For a while none of us could disagree with her. Until this popped up. I raised my hand and mentioned that everyone I knew had an active shooter dream at one point or another. And Every. Single. Person. Nodded. All of us had that dream. All of us.

Pretty telling, huh?

The mere notion that highschool children might have survivor’s guilt is sickening

(via sorry)

strongermonster:

strongermonster:

i love student housing. i’m in the common room waiting for a friend and there’s some dude crying on the couch w a bunch of his friends around him and i can only hear bits and pieces but someone asked him “who gets the minecraft server if you guys break up?” and he started crying harder and a 3rd person reached over to smack the guy who asked it on the back of the head

university is the best place on earth bc everyone has like 400 iq points but we’re all collectively only using 18 of them (7 on weekends but we have to share them)

(via sorry)

adventuringchangeling:

ottpop:

eatgeekstudy:

Me: I just sometimes get so stressed that I just want to screech

My Therapist: Then do it.

Me: I’m sorry?

My Therapist: Primal screeching is one way of completing your stress cycle, do it. Be mindful of where you are, I usually do it in my car, but yeah. Go for it.

Me: Ah- Oh.

My Therapist: Holding that kind of thing in is what’s locking you into that stress state. Screeching, running, dancing, that tells your body they the danger has passed and you’ll relax. Since you have a lifetime of that shit locked away, it’ll take a sec but yeah. Screech if you want to.

YO this is legit

My dad has always had me do this, especially when I was little and kept the baby up. We would go into the back yard, point to the river (to keep the ship captains up at night) and scream. I was also told to jump up and down to “get all the scream out” 

I did this in college too. There’s nothing more cathartic than climbing the fence of the fishing pier, running to the end of it and screaming into the wind. It’s powerful, it’s therapeutic, it’s feral and wonderful. 

I did this with kids too, when they have too much energy. When I worked at a children’s camp and the kids had too much energy when the rain canceled pool time I took them out in the rain, made them jump up and down and scream, and then 15 some nine-year-olds and I would rance across the field screaming in the rain

Go scream, just face towards the river when you do it

Adventurer’s Tip #345: Sometimes you just gotta scream. Just face towards the river when you do.

(via madmadmilk)

heatandapathy:

This is an absolute religious experience that I was not prepared for

(via sorry)