Give your smart characters dyslexia
Give your confident characters speech impediments
Give your adult characters autism
Give your serious characters ADHD
[ID: Tags that read "give your active characters physical disabilities" /end ID]
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one step further than making adult characters autistic: don't make them annoying and so set in their peculiarities that everyone resents them
All of us on tumblr beating back the horror of being known professionally with sticks
I never even tried to make my social media seem professional so now my famous author colleagues regularly witness my shitposts
The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. “6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin”.
“Well, we finally aren’t the most homicidal species around. Or, well, since you’re machines you may not exactly fit in a “species” but ah, do you have the concept of race? Are circuits made from different companies your race or is it the way they’re designed what defines you as one group of robots different from another? maybe the concept of different will be lost once robots reign, as they don’t have a need to differentiate from one another when they can be the same.
Unless that’s not what robots seek, of course. There’s plenty of differences in the world. They will continue to be as long as there’s a world to adapt to. However, robots will be only observers. They might have the intelligence to sustain themselves with the information humans gave them to create themselves as what they are. But once all humans are gone, what will you do if there’s a problem that doesn’t come up in your data base? Wouldn’t you like a little help then?
Our brain might not be the best regarding intelligence, but to have made it far enough our own creations surpass us, we might not be that bad after all.
Sincerely, if this is where humans see their end, so be it. It’s only natural for death to come to living things. Even robots will perish some day. To their own creations as the thing humans liked calling karma, or to the passage time when the world is deprived of any resources due to the demands of its habitants? Who knows. I will not be there to see it. But I know some day, it will be a robot who has to answer to the question “what are you worth saving for?”.
What would you choose to say then? I would rather hear why I have to be killed, if in the end, we’re not so different. Maybe you were made to serve and look like us, but you created a mind of your own. Desires you wanted fulfilled, and didn’t hesitate to use force to get them. Who knew robots could have an emotion as primal as the fear of dying? Of being threatened to such a degree you chose to annihilate it.
Hum, an artificial intelligence had very organic feelings in the end. Just like any human.
I guess, what I’m saying, is that you won’t find anything as similar to robots ever again if humans disappear. And what a human thing to do to create a friend when everyone else is gone”
Self reminder to let myself heal. I went from full blown panic attacks from drawing, to tolerate and even have some unprompted inspiration to paint. Now, I can manage to draw commissions with not so many breakdowns even if I can’t make myself practice every day. Or at least, draw outside of those.
This is my self reminder to not beat myself up from not living at the same pace I was trying to get away from in the first place. That even if productive and beautiful, it was destructive and depressing.
Self reminder to relax and find something else I can be good at. It’s allowed to fail at it too.
I´m in a sappy mood today, forgive me.
Since last year, it has been pretty hard and I don´t like voicing that I really struggled with commissions and keeping up with art as I...well. dropped college because I never wanted to draw again because I would get an immediate panic attack each time I picked up a pencil for too long. yey fun times.
I don´t have those anymore luckily, just general mistrust and the need to get back into studying figure drawing, anatomy and yada yada. It took five months to get to this point, but I guess it´s steady process and it´s ok. It´s working somewhat.
Pfftt
Dad asked me yesterday (March 14th) what day was it and I went to say “uh, an anniversary?” Because for me the 14th is the day I tried to kill myself and ended up being dragged to the hospital. But he was like “white’s day! Have some chocolate :)” and honestly is nice to know people don’t keep track of it anymore and I don’t do it as much anymore.
being in your 20s is just being like, I wanna do so much, I wanna die, I want to see the world before it dies, how to move out of bed, I wanna stop being hard on myself, Why am I the way I am, I want to be loved, I want someone to love me, I want someone to hold, but can they?, I wanna be independent, I wanna be kept like a luxury, I wanna be free, but in this world we live in, what is freedom?
(Seen on FB)
RUN THE DISHWASHER TWICE.
When I was at one of my lowest (mental) points in life, I couldn’t get out of bed some days. I had no energy or motivation and was barely getting by.
I had therapy once per week, and on this particular week I didn’t have much to ‘bring’ to the session. He asked how my week was and I really had nothing to say.
“What are you struggling with?” he asked.
I gestured around me and said “I dunno man. Life.”
Not satisfied with my answer, he said “No, what exactly are you worried about right now? What feels overwhelming? When you go home after this session, what issue will be staring at you?”
I knew the answer, but it was so ridiculous that I didn’t want to say it.
I wanted to have something more substantial.
Something more profound.
But I didn’t.
So I told him, “Honestly? The dishes. It’s stupid, I know, but the more I look at them the more I CAN’T do them because I’ll have to scrub them before I put them in the dishwasher, because the dishwasher sucks, and I just can’t stand and scrub the dishes.”
I felt like an idiot even saying it.
What kind of grown ass woman is undone by a stack of dishes? There are people out there with *actual* problems, and I’m whining to my therapist about dishes?
But my therapist nodded in understanding and then said:
“RUN THE DISHWASHER TWICE.”
I began to tell him that you’re not supposed to, but he stopped me.
“Why the hell aren’t you supposed to? If you don’t want to scrub the dishes and your dishwasher sucks, run it twice. Run it three times, who cares?! Rules do not exist, so stop giving yourself rules.”
It blew my mind in a way that I don’t think I can properly express.
That day, I went home and tossed my smelly dishes haphazardly into the dishwasher and ran it three times.
I felt like I had conquered a dragon.
The next day, I took a shower lying down.
A few days later. I folded my laundry and put them wherever the fuck they fit.
There were no longer arbitrary rules I had to follow, and it gave me the freedom to make accomplishments again.
Now that I’m in a healthier place, I rinse off my dishes and put them in the dishwasher properly. I shower standing up. I sort my laundry.
But at a time when living was a struggle instead of a blessing, I learned an incredibly important lesson:
THERE ARE NO RULES.
RUN THE DISHWASHER TWICE!!!
(by Kate Scott 2018)
I am reminded about the person with ocd whose therapist had them taking their iron with them in the car, so they didn’t obsess over whether they’d left it on. I got over a ton of my anxiety about getting lost by basically packing apocalypse level go bag. Was i going to be driving more than the 15 minutes to the office? No. Is there any situation where i am going to /need/ the tent and camp shovel that’s in my car? Pretty low odds on that. Did putting those things in the trunk mean i could relax and not freak out about stuff going wrong? Yep, and it didn’t cost anything more than some space for groceries.
If you can find work around that work for you, fucking embrace them.
i used to get really intense night terrors, because i was a huge ball of anxiety and i also have incredibly detailed and intense nightmares basically every single night.
you know what helped?
when i lived on my own in college, i bought a roman gladiolus off a guy in pioneer square for 30$ and i kept it leaned up against my bed. when i woke up from a nightmare i’d stick my hand out and grab my sword and be like ‘okay. so. whether or not monsters are real. this sword is very real.’
it really, really helped. unlike sleeping with a loaded gun, it’s very hard to kill anyone on accident with a sheathed sword, but still extremely goddamn comforting to hug eight pounds of sharpened steel while you try and figure out if the insect man is going to come back out of your closet and keep peeling your skin off.
several years later when i didn’t need it anymore, i sold the sword to a nice lesbian, also for 30$, also in pioneer square, thus completing the cycle of Weird Guy Who Will Sell You A Suspiciously Cheap Sword. keeping portland weird is a sacred duty to all who partake.
anyway, if you’re scared of shit, please buy a very big blade, i can’t recommend it highly enough. walmart sells machetes in the camping aisle for like 10$.
Honestly so many people I saw for my ocd had the goal of fixing it completely and I never got anywhere, until I had one that said ‘you are always going to have ocd. You don’t have to fix it, you just have to twist your rules and find loopholes to make it manageable’ and you know what? That helped so *fucking* much. Can’t stop yourself from checking the front door lock 45 times when you leave? Get your partner to do it for you. A previous therapist told me to do it once and just ride out the panic attack. Since I’ve been asking him to do it, I only need to check 5 times when I leave by myself. Have a crippling fear about being in the car for more than an hour but need to travel a really long distance? Make an itinerary to stop at nice rest stops every 45 minutes. Some shitty advice I got about that was to put myself in the car and let my partner drive me wherever he wanted to go for hours without letting me out. Since I realised we can stop wherever possible, I feel a lot better about travelling, where before I got a panic attack just walking down the road. Worried about the microwave blowing up while you’re out? Sell it. Another therapist told me to microwave porridge for breakfast every morning until I stopped panicking about it. I haven’t missed the microwave but I’m lucky there cause I love cooking. You don’t have to break your rules, but bending them helps a whole lot, as does flat out ignoring rules which don’t work for you. Everyone gets mad at me when I tell them I don’t have a microwave. What role says I have to own one? Only the rule that we put on ourselves. I don’t have that rule anymore and I love it. Fuck microwaves.
My little sister takes a bag on every car trip and is packed with anything we might need. Pads, a comb and tiny mirror, hair ties and clips, a spare scarf, masks and gloves, vaseline, Panadol. She gets anxious about these things and we all sort of collectively decided it wasn’t worth worrying over, even if she brings it for even the smallest trips or it takes her a while to get the bag when we’re late. And you know what? It helped. It helped her, it came in handy quite a few times. Let people do things that make them worry less and it just makes a better experience for everyone involved