@cakefordogs / cakefordogs.tumblr.com
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Since I've been opening up a little bit about npd on here, I want to give a shout out to the essay Narcissus and the Daffodils - I highly recommend reading it if you want to learn more about npd from the perspective of, like, what's actually going on in pwnpd's heads
by Aimee Lowenstern
While I slept, dreamt, nightmare-bound, still and still searching (frantically) for my mother’s dismembered limbs, she was six feet below me, in the kitchen downstairs, intact and pouring blood orange juice into a cup.
She is worried about me. I am worried too, about everything; hence the nightmares, and hence her efforts (sweetheart that she is) to “start my morning off right.”
I wake with a jolt to the sound of a teacup set on my bedside table. I hug my mom, cry, hug the dog who has trotted her little legs upstairs to see what all the fuss is about.
In the glass cup, a liquid ruby. It is at once too tart and too sweet, too real for someone like me who lives in muddled and malnourished suppositions. But my mother juiced an orange because she loves me, and because it looks nothing like blood.
There she is in the clean sunshine, alive and able to do things about her worry and her love. Here I am, too: awake at last.
As I've been making progress with the therapy stuff I've been teaching myself, I think my (affective) empathy has actually got lower! So that's neat. Not sure if I was mistaking something else (like guilt?) for empathy, I was genuinely experiencing empathy but it was an effort and I let go of it once I internalised that I didn't have to do it, or a secret third thing. Or most likely a combination
(I still don't entirely know what's going on with my empathy, to be honest. It's definitely not uniformly low, but it also isn't uniformly high the way I once thought it was. Maybe some day I'll figure out out lol)
twisting and bitturning
I'm also raising baby chimckens rn and I love spending time with them, then logging on to Tumblr to promptly see more babies upon my dash
Mine are a lil younger than yours and some are still hatching, but have some photos regardless
YAY they look so content and cozy. hatching your own is the best.
A cape rain frog from Georges Louis Leclerc Buffon's Histoire naturelle, générale et particulière t.30 (1788). Full text here.
A defiant transgender day of visibility to you all! I'm Kes, they/them, author, artist, crafter. Follow to see more & be here when I have updates on my novels, which feature a whole array of visible (& invisible!) trans & gender-variant people, space knights and mech pilots and self-described failures and cynical burnouts and more.
The Doctor ans Rose watching the sunrise
- inspired by ‚Sunrise in Orbit‘ by Astronaut Alexei Leonov -
Instead of using butter for your grilled cheese, you should switch to linux. You can set up a virtual machine to try out various distros to see which ones work best for your needs
It’s a symbiotic relationship
imo by @imnotherelmao
mischievous nuthatch
