I Want This Meme To Represent 2020

Me: I don’t like that shit. Me: *proceeds to re-blog that shit*

*taps eyes* is this thing on

if we are talking in person and i accidentally spit dont even call out i saw it and im dead inside

teacher: what inspired you to write this essay?

me: the due date. 

“When we set children against one another in contests - from spelling bees to awards assemblies to science “fairs” (that are really contests), from dodge ball to honour rolls to prizes for the best painting or the most books read - we teach them to confuse excellence with winning, as if the only way to do something well is to outdo others. We encourage them to measure their own value in terms of how many people they’ve beaten, which is not exactly a path to mental health. We invite them to see their peers not as potential friends or collaborators but as obstacles to their own success… Finally, we lead children to regard whatever they’re doing as a means to an end: The point isn’t to paint or read or design a science experiment, but to win. The act of painting, reading, or designing is thereby devalued in the child’s mind.”

— Alfie Kohn, The Myth Of The Spoiled Child

so y'all just...... don't hyperfixate?? or imagine your own little world where you put yourself or an oc in as a main character and imagine the world for hours on end? or get random bursts of emotions??? wack

I’m going to say something that might upset some folks. And I know that this is going to be tough to hear. It’s tough for me to say, because this is something I’ve been guilty of in the past and it’s a hard thing to go through and deal with. But it needs to be said.

If you are hurting, you need to tell people. Not should—you need to tell people. The people around you are not psychic and they aren’t going to know what’s going on unless you tell them.

It’s super easy to play the wounded card and say, “why didn’t anyone notice? Why didn’t they see that I was hurting, it was so obvious? I reblogged a bunch of my chemical romance lyrics. I vagueblogged about feeling like garbage. I pinned an existential meme on my blog.” But guess what fam?? Literally everyone I know is doing that and not every one of them is in crisis mode!!!

I feel for you, I really do, but you can’t ask me why no one cared until you explicitly stated that you wanted to actually die, for real, not joking. Because we didn’t know you wanted to actually die, for real, not joking until you said it. You never told anyone. You never reached out over DMs, you hid behind memes and jokes because you didn’t want to burden everyone with your problems, you said you were fine when people asked if you were doing okay.

Tell someone when you’re hurting. Tell them. Personally. Explicitly. Don’t be vague, don’t say “haha” or “lmao” or “/j” if you’re not actually joking because how am I supposed to help you if you’re communicating to me that it’s not that serious. There’s no micro expressions on the internet, I can’t tell the difference between “okay” and “okay.” because it’s different for everyone.

Tell. Someone.

THEY DESERVED BETTER THAN THIS

shirabu: when i first met you, i did not like you.

semi: i’m aware of that.

shirabu: but then you and i had some time together.

semi: uh-huh...?

shirabu: it did not get better.

To all of you out there writing long ass...carefully cultivated...painstakingly characterized...thoughtfully written fanfictions...I see you and I appreciate the everliving shit outta you.