Cant Stop Thinking About This Video

Is it just me or are the new tumblr users convinced there's a penalty of some kind for using this site like it's meant to be used?

People rly don't get that you can think you're being nice and still be incredibly ableist. You can repost the article about the girl with cerebral palsy getting asked to prom thinking it's so sweet that someone invited her without realizing how ableist you're being. You can make friends with the boy who has autism at school and joke with him that he's your boyfriend with the best of intentions- you are still incredibly ableist. You can push a person's wheelchair without asking because you want to help to be nice and you are still being ableist. You can grab the person who uses a cane to help them up without asking for permission to touch them only wanting to make things easier and still. Be. Ableist.

Polite ableism is just harder to talk about, you can't describe how it makes you feel enough, how it rips away your autonomy and makes you feel lesser than, and it's especially hard for those with intellectual disabilities to talk about and speak against, because it's so covert and it's EVERYWHERE.

Just like. Treat people normally? Don't be a weirdo?? Thanks

I keep having to tear down extremely predatory/misleading Scien.tology flyers in my school's art building. This is the third fucking time I've ripped the fuckers up and I'm getting Real Fucking Tired of it.

ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅᴇʀꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀꜱ <3

it's okay to stray from your story. go write that short fic you can't take your mind off of! give you—and your characters—a break.

you! won't! always! make! your! word! count! -- you don't need to keep stretching sentences because the scene you finally got right is a hundred words too short. sometimes it's better that way.

the "rules" and "tips" are just ~guidelines~ (especially for people who like to swear by them) -- writing has no laws. especially first drafts. scrap the grammar, scrap the emotional tips, write it because it feels right, not because someone else says so.

every writer procrastinates. it's not easy being a writer.

take time off for yourself. the only thing harder than writing a story is to keep pushing it when you need a break the most. come back to it later. I promise there will be no dumpster fires when you're gone.

all writing is "real" writing. I don't think there's an explanation here?? fiction writers are writers. nonfiction writers are writers. fanfic writers are writers. (like how all reading is real reading!! in every format, too!)

it doesn't need to be perfect. honestly, it might never be. but it can be really close to it. if you're not satisfied with it, move on and come back when you're ready.

you are just as skilled as any bestselling author. remember that everything you read has been heavily edited by teams of people! their first draft could not even be as good as yours is now.

not using clichés is cliché. you will find one in any story. no one can bring you down for liking a certain trope. just because it's common doesn't mean it's bad!

no writer is fully well-rounded. dialogue will be easier to write for some, and description for others.

and, finally, no one knows what they're doing. trust me. we're all stumbling around blind here.

how to grow the fuck up

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

shorthands for dumbassery that i have grown to love deeply

"how dare you say we piss on the poor" in response to someone misinterpreting your post

"_ isnt gonna fuck you" for suck up behavior

"woah. should we tell everyone? should we throw a party?" for who the fuck cares

"and what if the world was made of pudding" for when would this ever matter.

"and sharks are smooth both ways" for a group of people heatedly arguing with 1 guy who is fucking with them all

".. but its about a witch in the alps finding her lost cat" for someone trying to sanitize something to the point of absurdity

????😭😭😭