372 posts
Elegias-rotineiras - Tumblr Blog
Photo by Michael Block (mblockk on Instagram)
"It's a gift, you keep those"
“How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.”
— Anne Frank
"Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood ".
George Orwell, 1984
September will be filled with joy.
September will be filled with love.
September will be filled with trust.
September will be filled with peace.
September will be filled with happiness.
September will be filled with blessings.
writers will really have a doc titled ‘fic planning’ and then it’s just blank
You know, I fucking hate the jokes that people with ADHD and autistic people just magically get along well.
Like....spoiler alert.....but putting two people with conflicting sensory needs in a room together is a recipe for disaster.
I have ADHD and autism. I have a lot of issues with loud noises or movement. If you put me in a room together with someone who vocally stims, we are not going to get along well. It's not that they're a bad person, it's not that I'm a bad person, we just have conflicting needs.
I stim a lot by pacing and wringing my hands. My dad, who probably has ADHD, gets really anxious when people pace.
This is a big reason why lumping all the disabled students in one classroom is bad idea, like many schools do. Because like all people, disabled people are each different people. With different needs. With different sensory needs and triggers.
Someone could stim by smacking their lips, while another person could have misophonia and have a strong reaction to those sounds.
Treating disabled people like humans is acknowledging that we're all different people, and we don't magically all get along because we share a condition. Like....it would be bigoted to assume that of any other marginalized group, so why would you do that to disabled people?
Who needs a wool bed when you have a sheep
(via)
i am every book i’ve read. every character i’ve loved. every song i’ve replayed, every thought i’ve had. i am made up of every laugh, tear, emotion ripped from me. i am everything i hold dear. i am me.
The person I reblogged this from deserves to be happy
I tried to scroll past this. I really did
the sky is the limit (star)
Pixiv ID: 4504534 Member: kann
Vincent van Gogh, Flowering Garden
Double rainbow lightning strike. Half of photography is pure luck.
Not really a theory or question but I thought it was cute how in 14x15 when Sam and Cas come back from that weird town, Dean is like so you got a cardigan and got a girl and Sam turns around and is like :) thanks to Cas. It’s cute to imagine Cas telling Dean these lil things in a phone call and Dean being like “You serious? He wore a cardigan?” And Cas “Yes, Dean, a cardigan”. It’s cute to me that even though that’s not something particularly important to the story it shows that Dean and Cas do have conversations that aren’t based on life/death/apocalypse, if that makes sense. Anyways, thank you for all your posts they’re the only things keeping me sane ily <3
BRING ME MORE THINGS LIKE THIS.
I LOVE IT. WE ALL DESERVE A LITTLE TREAT TODAY.
Sam is pissed, because now he’s always the last to find out about the important stuff. And not so important, too, he’s just the last one to find out about anything these days.
He never catches them talking on the phone, even though he knows they do, but once in a while there’s that quiet buzz in Dean’s pocket, that makes him all jumpy and exited, and Sam just knows who the message is from.
He asks once, out of courtesy, and Dean waves him off and mutters that it’s Cas, like texting with the angle of the lord is no biggie. He totally ignores the second question, too, never reveals the subject of their conversation. Sam never asks again.
The neutral “Castiel” at some point gets replaced by shorter but also cozier “Cas”.
One day the screen of Dean’s phone lights up with another notification and there’s a photo of Cas that Sam has never seen before, with a ridiculous white cowboy hat on, a little sheepish smile and a cute blush painting his cheeks. Sam wonders once again, but never asks.
When Sam calls to tell Cas about their recent case, the angel cuts him off and goes straigh to the point. He rarely needs to hear the whole story anymore, no matter how long he’s been gone, he’s always all caught up.
Sam wonders how the hell Dean manages to drop him a message when they literally just a minute ago were running for their life, or elbow deep in some creatures’ blood, or mid conversation with each other, but then, after another close call in the vamp nest, he sees it.
Dean, silent for a brief moment, with eyes shut and lips moving in a silent prayer. And the penny drops.
Since he knows what to be looking for, he starts noticing it more often. Everything even in the slightest interesting or exiting is instantly passed on to the angel. The secret channel is mostly used for the good news or the funny stuff, as if Dean couldn’t wait another hour to share his ridiculous stories with Cas.
One day, when it’s the other way around, Dean gone and Cas staying back at the bunker, Sam almost brings himself to ask about this little thing they have going on. He clears his throat, looking for the best words to start with.
But then the angel smiles, at the first sight as with no apparent reason, and looks up at him.
“Dean got the pie,” Cas says, still smiling fondly, and grabs his phone to type a reply. “Should I tell him to get anything for you from the store?”
“No, that’s fine.” Sam breaks into a smile. “I have everything I need.”
And the best part is, he knows these two do too.
the birds
Hey if you're reading this and you're in a bad spot mentally or anything i hope you feel better soon and have a good day
Kurt Vonnegut wrote: “When I was 15, I spent a month working on an archeological dig. I was talking to one of the archeologists one day during our lunch break and he asked those kinds of “getting to know you” questions you ask young people: Do you play sports? What’s your favorite subject? And I told him, no I don’t play any sports. I do theater, I’m in choir, I play the violin and piano, I used to take art classes.
And he went WOW. That’s amazing! And I said, “Oh no, but I’m not any good at ANY of them.”
And he said something then that I will never forget and which absolutely blew my mind because no one had ever said anything like it to me before: “I don’t think being good at things is the point of doing them. I think you’ve got all these wonderful experiences with different skills, and that all teaches you things and makes you an interesting person, no matter how well you do them.”
And that honestly changed my life. Because I went from a failure, someone who hadn’t been talented enough at anything to excel, to someone who did things because I enjoyed them. I had been raised in such an achievement-oriented environment, so inundated with the myth of Talent, that I thought it was only worth doing things if you could “Win” at them.”
“I loved to sleep with the window open. Rainy nights were the best of all: I would open the window and put my head on the pillow and close my eyes and feel the wind on my face and listen to the trees sway and creak.”
— Neil Gaiman
i feel like being able to hear everything is more of a curse than a gift