San Lang, let it go. Why should we let it go? It's not worth it. This person is difficult to deal with verbally, I'll handle it. Just ignore him. San Lang. Fine.
When I was little, my dad hired a Cambodian refugee called Jack to help him drywall a dining room ceiling. Jack spoke very little English; he'd recently gotten a part time job in a little Asian deli not far from our home and needed to pick up some extra work. He was very kind to six year old me and my exhausted mom; he brought us day old leftovers from the deli counter often, and liked to tuck the knuckle of his index finger into the dimple in my cheek whenever I smiled at him.
He soaked up construction skills and other information like a sponge, and by the time he left my dad's tiny construction company he'd gotten his GED, learned to drive, reunited with his sister and her family, and had begun remodeling a vacant business on the rich side of town into a Cambodian restaurant. He invited us to their grand opening on lunar new year, and I'll never forget when he gave me a red envelope with five dollars in it and told me, "tonight I am the luckiest man in the world, so this will bring you luck, too."
Years later, my dad told me that Jack had witnessed his parents' murder during the khmer rouge, and was immediately separated from his sister. He had to cross the killing fields at Choeung Ek alone, on foot, eating grass and insects to survive. He somehow made it to Cam Ranh on the coast of Vietnam, where a distant friend of his father's put him on a boat to Seattle. Jack was nine years old.
I tell this story because, even though I haven't seen Jack or any of his relatives in thirty years, I pray he's well and happy and eating like a king tonight with everyone he loves, celebrating the long overdue demise of the pestilential sonofabitch who tried to wipe them out.
Fuck Henry Kissinger's pathetic ghost, and fuck all those who praise him. Fuck Imperialism. Fuck the genocidal war machine. Drink deep for the freedom of all souls tonight, my friends. And tomorrow, keep fighting.
If you struggle with substance abuse but not addiction, you still deserve support. If you struggle with suicidality/self harm urges but don't act on it, you still deserve support. If you struggle with psychosis and paranoia but have insight, you still deserve support. If you struggle with anything but are "coping with it," you still deserve support.
You dont need to be in imminent crisis to get help - safety planning, harm reduction, resources, and accommodations. You're still struggling. You're still suffering, You're still at risk/in danger. You deserve better - you need better. Your health and wellbeing matters.
the trick to a good insult is sort of talking around it and making them think so that it hits harder when they realize what you’re talking about
jinshi you useless little slut you're breasting boobily around the place moping about telling your crush your identity all the while getting heat stroke literally no one is doing it like you i love you so much
thanks to @trekbec82 for the suggestion!
Glinda: Elphie kissed me! Fiyero: And you kissed her back? Glinda: No, I kissed her mouth. God, you're so dumb, Fiyero!
the wicked movie teaches important moral lessons like "be bisexual in college" and "don't trust politicians" and "if you push someone who's in a wheelchair without their permission, someone might throw a bench at your head with their mind"
Always
The devil works hard, but Hua Cheng and I work harder (hehehe) @genshin-ruined-my-life
Edited by: Mitsuyawifey4 on TT
She/They | 20s | Here to stalk my friend's blogs mostlyProfile Pic ID: Kylo Ren walking on a light pink background
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