Nomnom

Anyone who refers to Sylvia Plath's poetry as "emo" will be strangled until their entire head turns blue.

( tw: rant about depression, suicide, and ableism )

This post has been crossposted with Dreamwidth at http://shamanicshaymin.dreamwidth.org/88723.html. Pick your poison. Mwoiiiiiiiing~!

Somehow, I had a feeling that checking the comments for an actual secret rather than just the "Adoptables" thread would be an enormous mistake. Nice to know I'm right. (TW: ABLEISM UP THE FUCKING WAZOO)

How nice that while people think I'm a stupid whackjob IRL, I can't tell about my experiences online 'cause I'll just be lumped with SJWs who fake and/or use their disability as an excuse to be assholes while referring to neurotypical people with condescending terms such as "allistics."

Meanwhile, I should stop visiting the "Audience Alienating Premise" because it makes me feel depressed. It feels like the things I want to see more of and/or want to write land smack-dab on that page, which gives me the impression that while I might like them, the majority of humankind doesn't. Making me feel even more weird and isolated. Ugh. Though really, I question some of the things listed, like Madoka. It's hardly "alienated" its audience when it's currently one of the most hyped and enormously popular series right now. :/





This post has been crossposted with Dreamwidth at http://shamanicshaymin.dreamwidth.org/59906.html. Pick your poison. Mwoiiiiiiiing~!

My mother and I were supposed to be repackaging items. If we were like any NORMAL family, we'd have already finished hours ago. But no. We haven't even started.

I've been waiting. Hours and hours and hours and hours. I wanted to get this over with so her stupid HSN/QVC return packages quit haunting me. What does she do? Down herself in her various pain medications and fall asleep. She tells me to wake her up at a specific time. I do but then she pushes it back for another hour, and so on and so on. OR Dad was supposed to call her and he forgets. Because we've pushed it back to the last minute possible, she wants me to look up the times at two separate post offices and write various thingamajigs and times I can barely keep track of because I've been up this entire fucking time FOR HER and she knows as well as I do that I never look up anything in the phone book and that I never make calls in the first place. So she starts yelling at me how inefficient and rude I am and how if it wasn't for me she would've been ready to take care of the packages (excuse me Mother, I believe I was following directions) and basically blames the whole thing on me.

I THINK THERE'S A REASON WHY I DON'T WANT YOU TALKING TO ME FOR A MILLISECOND, MOTHER. I CAN'T STAND BEING AROUND YOU, AND SITUATIONS LIKE THIS ARE EXACTLY WHY. I actually wanted to get the fucking packages done.

Maybe because of Mom's stupid shopping addiction that I'm so frugal with money and almost never buy anything for myself unless it's related to my birthday/Christmas.

I fucking hate GIMP.

See, this is why I never make icons/macros/sprites/what-have-you anymore. And why I've made no progress on my fangame whatsoever.

Come to think of it, I haven't written anything either because my computer refuses to acknowledge I own Microsoft Word. And I hate all the other programs (WordPad, Notepad) and yes, that includes OpenOffice. I fucking hate this.