saintcaffeinated:

saintcaffeinated:

do you ever want to stockpile your own blood over the course of a few years and then just go around and start spreading it everywhere before mysteriously disappearing, leaving suspicious amounts of blood throughout the city and turning your whole town into a crime scene which no one can adequately explain outside of somehow being murdered simultaneously at like eight taco bells?

i have never been okay once in my life

annevbonny:

imagine talking about alexander the great and not mentioning that he died of grief only 8 months after hephaestion died, that he petitioned the oracle to give hephaestion literal divine status so that people could worship him as a god, that he threw himself on hephaestion’s dead body and refused to leave for two days, that he put together the biggest funeral procession known to the world at the time, that he gave hephaestion a lock of his own hair at the funeral in blatant reference to achilles doing the same with patroclus….like heteronormativity is so wild that he could come back from the dead and come out to every historian personally and it still wouldn’t be enough to render him anything but straight

furiousgoldfish:

Struggling long
term with abuse as a child, detaching from it and living inside of my head,
inside of some kind of made-up world I made to feel safe and okay, was my only
option of survival. I didn’t have anyone to turn to, I could tell nobody cared
if I was in distress or pain, I plunged into my own fantasies and stayed there
as long as I could. However, doing this long term caused a side effect, I was
starting to lose any emotion connected to the real world. I would live my life
like a zombie, not caring about anything, not being able to feel a thing. I
would only feel like I’m alive while inside of the fantasy, and anything else
was irrelevant, it might have been non existent.

I would stay
emotionless zombie for months, and it would scare me. I would eventually
realize that I can’t feel anything, that I have no emotions. It made me feel
even less human than I already felt. I ended up doing anything to regain some
sense of feeling, some sense of care, because I was turning into a person I
didn’t like, or want to be. It would take weeks, or even months to somehow make
myself normal again, to make myself indulge with anything in real life, because
real life proved terrifying and unbearable, but living without emotions wasn’t
bearable either.

And so I went thru
all this alone, not having anyone to talk to, to admit that I was going thru
something that scared me, that I didn’t know why it was going on. I remained
cautious for a long time not to lose my emotions, not to turn into a zombie. I
could tell it wasn’t what I wanted for myself. And finally, I forgot all about
it. Because it was another fairly traumatic thing for a child to go thru, and I
couldn’t comfortably think about it until I was ready to admit that my life was
filled with horrors. I’m sharing it now because I’m certain I wasn’t the only
one struggling with this. If you remember a similar experience, share it with
me.