Rainy week. Shirley’s upset because I won’t make it stop raining for her walks.

Basically she meows at the door, I leash her up and take her out, she’s appalled by the rain and drags me back inside, resumes meowing at the door.

I have stepped on and a few of her toys lately, so I bought her some new ones. Hopefully she’s able to entertain herself indoors for a little while now, because most days I come home from work and she’s hyper and stressed.

The weird thing is, the majority of the time I wasn’t even criticizing them. A lot of the time I’d be bitching about my own life and I’d try to be as specific as possible but my friend was convinced I was secretly talking about him, and our other friends agreed I was partially at fault.

Of course the times I did criticize them went even worse. I developed a habit of just agreeing with them and complying to all their criticisms of me, but that upset them more because it turned out they didn’t believe all their criticisms and just said them because they were mad.

I don’t know. I just don’t want to make friends anymore because it’s damned if I do, damned if I don’t. I keep shoving myself into queer spaces because I always wanted to find love before I die, but I don’t think I like being close to people anymore. It’s confusing and uncomfortable.

No idea, I’m all for decolonizing but I’ve seen some contention around what an accurate first nations map would look like. I’d need a committee.

I went through a lolrandom phase as a teen where I just said nonsensical or edgy things to try to get a laugh out of people. He probably just wants attention.

She’s under no obligation to put up with it if it’s annoying or gross, of course. Not getting the reaction you want is part of how you grow out of it and learn how to have a sincere conversation.

A minor thing, but I stepped on a nail once. Went pretty deep in, and I threw a fit when my parents pulled it out because I was scared. I have no idea how old I was. I just remember being a little kid, recounting it as something that happened a long time ago, and my older sister went, “please, that never happened”.

No idea why she said that. Over the years my memory got hazy and I assumed I’d been telling tales as a kid. Then one day in my 20s, my mom mentioned how pissed she was at dad for dropping that nail in the floor 😐

Oh yeah, when Squidward dreamed about blowing SpongeBob.

We weren’t allowed to watch Graveyard Shift when I was a kid because it scared my little brother 😂 it was years before I learned the Hash-Slinging Slasher was just some guy

Thirding Band Geeks, that was the highlight of my childhood. Great visual gags throughout, and it’s nice to see Squidward come out on top for once. Also Squilliam was absent from the show for so long I thought he was dead.

I also really liked Frankendoodle and I Was A Teenage Gary for the absurdity.

I work for a big fucking store that shouldn’t exist and it makes me mad every day.

Holidays are the worst. At Christmas the two big things we push are electronics and cheap chocolate, aka the two things almost universally made by slaves. Imagine your religion’s flagship holiday being a celebration of slave labor. Wild.

Every season we stock countless shitty synthetic t-shirts nobody’s going to buy, of some overrated cartoon character with a different accessory badly edited on. The amount of plastic going into landfills in the name of Stitch or Charlie Brown makes me sick to think about. Don’t come at me for calling them overrated, neither is worse intentionally destroying a planet for.

The amount of plastic waste we make on the job is awful, too. Half the time I bag an order, the bag splits and I have to grab another one. Do you think we’re always in reach of a recycling can? Nah, that shit’s going in the trash, along with the “paper” (plastic) we use to print our labels that misprint 90% of the time, the extraneous plastic bits that fall off the milk jug, and so on.

But it’s the best wage I’m getting. So I silently fume for eight hours every day while I contribute to the ruin of a planet I ostensibly love. Oh well!

I don’t live anywhere near LA but I work at Walmart and this is basically my inner monolog. My job is judged on speed but everyone needs to be in my way, moving as slowly as possible, usually with all 5,000 members of their immediate family spread out across the aisle in case an employee dares try to get anywhere.

That’s just kind of how therapy works. They can’t fix other people or society for you. The only reason to go is if you need help managing your own shit.

I agree that therapy is dogshit for depression because my depression won’t be fixed by anything internal, but what is therapy good for besides internal change?

Thanks. It’s probably not worth digging up conversations, I’ve been avoiding people I know for a while now so I don’t remember verbatim how those conversations played out. I just remember the parts where a friend is spiraling because everyone hates him for being a colonizer and I’m like “I didn’t say I hated you or was mad at you or that you’re a colonizer?? I’m white???” or the part where a friend is talking about how evil he is for two hours while I’m trying to get him to stop and I feel like dogshit because I thought if I told him he was hurting my feelings he’d just apologize and we’d move on.

But that’s not useful information if I don’t remember exactly what I said before it. I just remember what I was trying to say.

Thanks! I’m mostly interested in fiction right now but the wait for ebooks at my library is long 🥲 I know there are magazines that publish short stories so I’ll look into that!

That’s reassuring, thanks. I feel insane sometimes from the effect I have on people when I think I’ve said something normal. My therapist didn’t ask for any examples and just convinced me I’m rude af because I’m autistic and was homeschooled, but cutting out the “rude” behaviors never helped. In fact, people started melting down when they learned I’d done that.

“You stopped doing that thing I had a meltdown over? Why are you still hung up on what a dick I was?” When they’d never told me they were a dick or that they were wrong. I thought if I apologized for something, I’m supposed to stop doing it.

I just feel like I’m not appropriate to be around people sometimes because I do the right thing and everyone still has some kind of nervous breakdown.

EXACTLY. I keep seeing people say we shouldn’t complain about rainbow capitalism in light of recent events. No, this is why we should complain about it!! People are just nostalgic for before they realized they were getting scammed.

It’s pretty huge in the west too, though obviously not to the same extent.

I left reddit over API stuff, obviously.

Twitter had a few weeks where the algorithm was so broken people were getting recommended gore videos. Just a description of the most common one set off my OCD trying to avoid it. It was always kind of a shit website and not worth having an episode over, so I just deleted my account.

Tumblr’s nsfw ban also nuked a bunch of communities that aren’t inherently nsfw, but have large factions that are. Think like the furry fandom. I just woke up one day and my tags didn’t work and my favorite creators were gone. PLUS the wording included the phrase “female-presenting nipples”, which just sounds wildly transphobic and has no definition so they can ban whoever they want. And they doubled down on it a week later. Immediately uninstalled, heard they’ve only gotten more overtly transphobic since.

I don’t even remember when I stopped using Facebook. I don’t like being stalked by every heterosexual mom I went to church with as a teenager, so I never used it long.

I wish autism made me sensible :p

An old friend told me he did that to cope with dysphoria.

Once I was in the shower with the lights on and I slipped. When I got up I somehow snagged my arm on the faucet and made a deep gash.

Now every time I think of trying it, I imagine what kind of violent shit I’d do to myself if I slipped and couldn’t see.

Thanks ❤️ I just don’t want to cope without close relationships, I guess, so I really want to know why I keep making people spiral.

Sometimes I think it’s not me, it’s them… But it’s become so many of them.