Does Anyone Else Feel Me. Can Anyone Hear Me In Here.

*thinks of a joke* haha this will be funny and lighthearted *realizes how abrasive it comes off as soon as it leaves mouth* *walks into traffic gets hit by a car survives gets hit by another car still alive but can perceive new colors never before beheld by the human eye*

POV: mister Devon Price, PhD, telling me that I am right about everything

Source: Unmasking Autism, discovering the new faces of neurodiversity

The poetry of the universe echoes endlessly around everything, etched into walls of chapels and doors of dungeons and light-seared into the backs of your eyes when you fall through the void. It's all in a language you can't understand and you aren't meant to learn, because if you did, you'd understand the terror of it. The wretched human soul that resides within your skin would cry out at the injustice of it.

The nether is not meant for you. Your blood boils and the sand you stand on cries out and grabs at your feet. It's just as lawless as the land above, but the evils of this world are as striking as a match. They do not shroud themselves in leaves and sea and earth, hiding from your human eyes. The nether is not meant for you.

But perhaps it wasn't meant for the creatures here, either. Perhaps the land turned them vile and bitter, instilled in them a taste for blood as red as the fire in which they were born.

You hold this creature in your hands now, one you found abandoned within the remains of its kind, and you can see the humanity in its withered white frame. The poetry that echoes around everything, that the universe is kind, and you are the universe itself. Within this creature is the part of yourself that aches to leave.

You can save a ghast and you can set it free.

So anyways with the rapid rise of fascism I feel it’s a good time to point out that it’s perfectly legal to follow unjust orders slowly, badly, or inefficiently

gourmand be cooking