Permission to Write

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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
salemtheblackcat-deactivated201
kinkyfemmequeer

This isn’t just about porn

This isn’t just porn being deleted. @Tumblr was about a platform for Queer and LGBT+ expression. Where the community connected amongst each other on issues beyond gender. Where folx felt free to ask questions and explore themselves.

Queer porn and issues have little to no platforms; so to connect on a website where there is such a vast array of bodies, genders, queer smut, erotica; is a political stance.

NUDITY IS ART. Sex is art. People’s personal expressions of their bodies in a political climate that tells you to hide your body, shames sexual expression, and forces a binary identity IS ART!

The countless pages I came across of folx creating a safe haven for their transitions, thoughts, and connecting with other folx with similar stories and bodies—it has been a safe home. I can’t imagine how many lives it has saved.

This was my home to a queer getaway in a politically regressive world full of censorship. This was where I gained extraordinary knowledge of Queer politics, inclusivity, and further strengthening my intersectional feminism. This isn’t just about porn.

This is an act of violence against the queer community. @staff

So Tumblr is Zuccing Itself

If there’s no “nsfw” content allowed on the site then who’s even gonna be on here anymore???? This is the most literal interpretation of shooting oneself in the foot I have ever seen. Tumblr just closed itself down. I will not be deleting this blog, I have been here for years and nowhere else do I have a space that holds so much of my content, but I also won’t be scrolling through for a while and I can’t imagine many of my followers will be either. This tanks content, but more importantly, it’s a huge and direct attack on sex workers and I can’t stand that.

I’m here for the poems and fan art way more than for the porn and erotica but I am DEFINITELY here for that TOO and my FAVORITE thing about Tumblr was that I could access all of that in one timeline without having to search for it all separately.

AND THEN TUMBLR ZUCCED ITSELF.

t4tliquidmantis

romanticizing mental illness is dangerous and misleading

restroom

Artsy depression: haunted eyes, good at art, emo hair and eyeliner on point

Actual Depression: bloodshot eyes, no longer trust themselves with pencils, has not showered in five days

Quirky OCD: organized books, clean room, color coordinated outfits

Actual OCD: Intrusive thoughts, flipping the light switch 8 times so you don’t stab your brother, picking holes in your skin

Cute eating disorders: Slim trim and beautiful, shyly refusing a second helping, dancer aesthetic

Actual eating disorders: Puffy cheeks and eroded teeth from excessive vomiting, hair growing over your freezing body and refusing to eat carrots because they’re too high in carbs

Adorable anxiety: just a smol bean, soft, must be protected from the world

Actual anxiety: crying so hard you throw up, shaking, losing sleep over a period after the “okay”

RPG PTSD: flashbacks, vietnam, u don’t know what i’ve been through kiddo

Actual PTSD: Buying your first pregnancy test at twelve, flinching at high fives, i can’t feel my hands where am I what year is it

Cartoon ADHD: look a squirrel, something shiny, fidgety loveable bufoon

Actual ADHD: rereading the same page over and over because it doesn’t make sense, hasn’t done the laundry in four months, hyperfocusing on a mushroom knowing you have work to do

stop making terrifying realities seem cute. it’s disrespectful for those of us who are actually struggling

opinionated-truscum

Fucking preach.

stop-stalin-and-suck-my-dick

Uwu smol baby autism: adorably awkward, huggable, acts cute when confused, has some sort of rainman talent and a perfect memory in general

Real autism: worrying about whether you’re interpreting people’s cues correctly/making your tone sound correct for the context, or whether they’re about to get wierded out and uncomfortable bc of something you said, sensory issues that drive you nuts, not being able to adapt to sudden changes in plans and freaking out, melting down or shutting down when stressed by stupid things

notsocuddlefish

^

victorjasper

Reblogging for the autism part that is just too real 

somedanganronpafangirl

!!!

permissiontowrite

I love this and I want more for the “scary” ones, here’s the two I have and write about

Movie schizophrenia: brilliant, never sleeps, solves impossible problems with the help of a friend that turns out to not exist

Actual schizophrenia: not sleeping for almost 48 hours because the wolf in your wall will kill you, finally crashing and waking up to remember this and softly groaning “oh no not AGAIN,” never ever allowing yourself to own a weapon EVER

Movie borderline personality disorder: super edgy snarky “bad girl” who has great sex all the time and throws badass parties all the time and really just ~needs to be loved~ so she can ~accept herself~ and act “right”

Actual BPD: I love this person so much that it hurts, I am so thankful for them in my life, why haven’t they texted me back yet, do they hate me, well fine then I hate them too, I’m going to delete their number, what if they’re just asleep though, actually what if they’re hurt, oh no they’re hurt I need to call every hospital in this state until I find them

carry-on-my-wayward-butt
gooseweasel

If anyone tries to tell you that Shakespeare is stuffy or boring or highbrow, just remember that the word “nothing” was used in Elizabethan era slang as a euphemism for “vagina”. 

Shakespeare has a play called “Much Ado About Nothing”, which you could basically read in modern slang as “Freaking Out Over Pussy”. And that’s pretty much exactly what happens in the play. 

kiralamouse

It’s also a pun with a third meaning. There’s the sex sense of much ado about “nothing”, there’s the obvious sense that people today see, and then there’s the fact that in Shakespeare’s day, “nothing” was pronounced pretty much the same as “noting”, which was a term used for gossip. So, “Flamewar Over Rumors” works as a title interpretation, too.

The reason we call Shakespeare a genius is that he can make a pussy joke in the same exact words he uses to make biting social commentary about letting unverified gossip take over the discourse.

ms-demeanor

Hey, hey, hey, you’re forgetting the fourth thing, that noting (again, pronounced note-ing) was a pun on music NOTES and that’s why there’s a shitload of singing and dancing and puns about singing and dancing because Much Ado About Noting is basically Freaking Out Over Pussy The Musical: Gossip Making a Mountain out of a Molehill.

justalurkr

Today I learned

degirlwhowrites
artattemptswriting

How do you become a writer? You lie. You tell a story, and you lie and lie and lie until you’re fluent.

You lie to your readers, making a story believable enough that they fall in love with a fiction. You tell them that everything will be okay, and tear their hearts to shreds. You give them just enough scraps to keep going, and hold the feast just out of reach. You tell them that you don’t want to let them have everything, and that is a lie too.

You lie to your characters, manipulate them, send them on journeys that will break them. You run rings around them, promise things that never come. You control them, plague them with monsters, send them spinning through terra incognita terrified and alone. You pretend not to care, but that’s a lie too.

The story also lies to you. Be ready. It did, after all, learn from the best. It tells you that you’re going down one path, and takes us in circles until we’re lost. It lies by omission, keeping the most important information until the end. It flays the creativity from your brain and refuses to co-operate. You pretend that your relationship with your story is complex and painful and in that, only part is a lie.

The story is a monster, a fae. Tame it as you will, but unlike a wolf it will never be made a dog. Quivering, it will curl in your lap like a cat, waiting for the right moment to bite the hand that feeds it. You nurture it anyway, you have to. You feed it with whispers and sleepless nights and tears. It won’t ever show kindness in return, but perhaps it will give gifts more freely.

And you keep lying, because telling a story is the most honest form of lying there is.

- On the nature and nurture of a story | A.r.t