Sigh, My Mother Will Strongly Deny The Possibility I Could Have ADHD And Turn Around And Send Me A Video

feeling genuinely ill about scott summers of the xmen rn. I love him so much he has consumed me.

i love being a faggot

Small penises aren't bad, balding isn't bad, being short isn't bad, being fat isn't bad. Physical traits are not signs of morality, and the sooner people stop mocking people for their bodies (yes, even when they're bad) the better.

Really confused as to how my logo changed to kermit the frog. Unless im starting to have hallucinations from lack of sleep. Still. mindfucked. 

While Apple Sauce seems to have people’s attention

SO HYPER RN. HAD A GOOD CONVERSATION WITH A FRIEND AND NOW IM VIBRATING AND JUMPING AROUND. LOVE PEOPLE. LOVE YALL FOLKS. HAVE A FANTASTIC DAY ANYONE WHO SEES THIS ❤️💗💗❤️💗❤️💗💗❤️💗❤️💗💗❤️❤️💗❤️❤️💗💗💗❤️💗❤️

we have no sign of how christ treated his betrayer on a daily basis, you know. we do know he was trusted with money, and that they had no idea it would be him. when it was said that one of their number would betray their lord, not one of them nodded sagely and said “i knew it, it’s judas.” not one of them.

how easy it would have been for him to put distance there, to just step away, to lessen the pain and the sting every time judas looked at him. but no. no, not christ. it was always, always, always love.

there is constant agony over the knowledge that jesus CHOSE him. a crowd, a following, all of israel to chose to be one of his closest friends, and jesus looked at the multitude and met the eyes of the one with a greedy heart and jealous mind and he said “that one.” he looked at his betrayer, the one who would commit the Sin of Sins, and he smiled and he said “father, give him to me.”

“let him be mine.”

“i choose death. i choose pain. i choose to let this one know my heart before he breaks it.”

he could have been delivered up another way. someone else could have told the priests — someone could have seen the group and known and ran to earn payment. someone who was unaffiliated, whom they wouldn’t have known and been so hurt by.

but no. no, jesus looked at him and loved him.

god made the job harder in no physical manner, only with love. and so no one has ever, i think, broken the lord’s heart so thoroughly as judas. because he let the serpent into the nest and made it comfortable, walked toward the hungry lion with welcoming arms.

in the end, it was also the story of us, betraying him who we had no reason to betray, and suffering the burden for it when we refused his grace. our redemption in the arms of him whom we worst offended. “while we were yet sinners”

judas is the story of grace overflowing, cascading, washing over us all. jesus pulled him into dances, had inside jokes, sat next to him at meals, ruffled his hair in the mornings, winked at him during sermons. judas was no outcast — he was in jesus’ close circle, his family. jesus stayed up late sometimes with him and talked about stars while the other disciples slept around the fire. they had dialogue about old testament verses and their meaning, swapped stories of their childhoods, kissed each others’ mothers on the cheek. judas heard his sermons and likely had comments, questions, ideas, adorations. (because jesus chose to lead him but judas chose to follow) they were blood brothers, until judas shed jesus’ blood, sold his brother for silver, did not listen when all the earth cried out. (all creation, all eternity building to this climax) (cain and abel) (joseph and judah) (yeshua and judas) (we’ve heard this before, we know how it ends don’t we, god bring the plot twist or avert our eyes)

most powerful of all, when christ washed his feet. kneeling, wrapped in a towel, and silently, gently, lovingly he lifting the feet of his betrayer to intimately clean them.

“i knew it, it was judas” never came from any of their mouths, not even from the mouth of he who knew. instead he smiled, and the kiss was only expected. “i knew it, it was judas” “father let him be mine”

“i choose judas”

happy mothers day to the mothers of palestine who have lost their children and to the mothers who were forced to give birth and be separated from their children in congo.

I hate the “Thoreau’s mom did his laundry” criticism so much, it drives me crazy.

Henry Thoreau did not go to Walden Pond because he thought it would be a fun adventure. He went into the woods because he was deeply depressed and burnt out. He was running from the horror of his brother and best friend recently dying in his arms, and the haunting memory of causing the Fairhaven Bay fire. His friend Ellery Channing literally gave him the ultimatum of either taking some time off to write and think, or else be institutionalized.

I think Thoreau’s mother saw her depressed son choosing to retreat into a small cabin in the woods, and was worried about him. Of course she did his laundry - just as Ralph Waldo Emerson probably brought him firewood and bread. These were not chores of obligation to support a “great” man, but services of love to help their deeply depressed 28yo son and friend.

And if you ask me, there’s a lesson in that - to “suck out the marrow of life” and “live deliberately,” one must also accept help offered from the people in your life who love you. There is no true transcendentalism or individualism without love and friendship behind it.