Here,

get this to 1 million notes and I'll reveal what uzi is saying !

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I fell asleep in my friends' arms. It was eleven at night, we were tired, curled up in a small pile on my tiny bed. I had my head buried in my roommate's side, and one of my closest friend's hand on my shoulder, steadying me. It was quiet and nothingness and peace and their heartbeats in my ears, my hands in their hair.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

We pack four people to that little bed, you know. Laps used as footrests, collarbones as pillows, little lights like moonlight in rustic yellow bathed on their faces. The TV plays an anime. The words are repeated by my dear friend on my shoulder, curled close. My legs are asleep; my roommate may be, too.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

The cat curls on top of our criss cross mess of legs and arms and heads on chests to absorb the warmth of us all. She purrs in contented peace. When my roommate and I are left alone in the quiet, she cries, and watches the door for our friends' return.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I will never kiss them but the top of their heads. I will never touch but the warmth of their arms. I will never take more than what's freely given, and in return I put my glasses on the bedside table fashioned from a guitar amp, and when I lean into their sides, I pick up my vulnerability and place it in their capable, tender hands.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I sing for them. I cry for them. I work and I run and I withstand the worst of the world for them, because some days I get to cradle their forehead on my shoulder and some days I get to see their shining eyes.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Maybe to you. But look beyond explanation. I love them. With my heart in my unsteady hands, with my nose pressed to the side of their head, with the buzzing in my feet and the warmth all around Iike the sunset pushing into the window.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Is it enough to say I love them? With no strings attached? With reckless abandon and utter devotion and freedom and kindness and fear?

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I cannot explain it any clearer. I love my friends. There is no more to say.

trauma therapy has been swell

Some mental wellness Talking Heads

are you guys gonna wrap it up with the dog motif anytime soon

Area College Student Going Back To Bed Despite Having Class In “Like Twenty Minutes”

Dear video essay creators. A video analysis is when you analyze a piece of media. No no look at me. A summary, no matter how thorough, is not an analysis. An analysis requires you to draw conclusions about the media such as authorial intent, real-world parallels, discussion about themes/worldbuilding/character motivation, and so much more. You have to stop summarizing something and saying that’s analysis. The Gaylors are doing more critical analysis than you. Is that who you want to lose to? The gaylors?

can control the weather.

Can a yuri lesbian and a yaoi lesbian truly be together?

Social identity branches out in all directions, like a fractal. You subdivide your traits and distinctions until a new set of niche descriptors satisfies your ever-growing urge for place. These are merely social shackles. They share the same genealogy that cis people share for the term 'heterosexual'. It's all a grift, a waste of your mental energy. You are self-ensnared by fictitious social-jargon, but it should mean nothing to you, truly. - When one realizes that it never ends, that the fractal is truly infinite, you make an active choice to abandon the search for the bottom, lest you risk drowning in its spiral. You could merely accept that you love yuri lesbians AND yaoi lesbians, that you love lesbians, that you love yaoi, it doesn't fucking matter. You simply love what you love.

Look at yourself in the mirror. is that a person who lives under the perfect categorical definition of any-one kind of person? You know it doesn't. So why do we believe that these niche terms help define our roles as human beings? Does it bring you comfort, having these self-appointed titles? Do you feel safe surrounded by people who call themselves the same things as you do? Or is it merely a glass shield protecting you from an intimidating truth: that you can be anyone, and do anything? Having that much freedom is scary, but it also means you're never beholden to the restrictive nature of category ever again.

When I say nonbinary people can look like anything I am aggressively including nonbinary people who have beards, body hair, and who are assumed to be cis guys, firstly because that’s also me and secondly because we’re always overlooked or subjected to cringe culture. Nonbinary doesn’t just mean skinny, pale and absent of gender signifiers.

[Don’t be an ass in the notes, I can turn off comments if I have to]