den

If you’re dealing with Long Covid - there’s a chance you’re also dealing with MCAS and/or POTS/Dysautonomia.

They’re two of the most common comorbids - and can have a devastating impact on quality of life.

New allergies? Alcohol intolerance? Dizziness? Fatigue? Fainting?

A mega 🧵 of resources

reposting a classic for 420

a collage of canadian geese against a dark stormy sky with the letters H O N K ! spelled vertically in different fonts

I went to a local art night and made this collage, the first I've done in my adult life. I used a glue stick and it felt very nostalgic.
HONK AT YOUR ENEMIES!

was JUST explaining this - do NOT validate the premise, ever. That's the fucking game. When RFK says "these people will never pay taxes" the response isn't "yes they will" it's "who cares, that's a human being, I don’t give a fuck what you say, we do not create metrics for whether someone is human"

melodic snores

Text of: Try to Praise the Mutilated World By Adam Zagajewski September 17, 2001 Try to praise the mutilated world. Remember June’s long days, and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew. The nettles that methodically overgrow the abandoned homesteads of exiles. You must praise the mutilated world. You watched the stylish yachts and ships; one of them had a long trip ahead of it, while salty oblivion awaited others. You’ve seen the refugees heading nowhere, you’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully. You should praise the mutilated world. Remember the moments when we were together in a white room and the curtain fluttered. Return in thought to the concert where music flared. You gathered acorns in the park in autumn and leaves eddied over the earth’s scars. Praise the mutilated world and the gray feather a thrush lost, and the gentle light that strays and vanishes and returns. (Translated, from the Polish, by Clare Cavanagh.)

Today in poems I think about a lot, "Try to Praise the Mutilated World" by Adam Zagajewski, translated by Clare Cavanagh

www.newyorker.com/magazine/200...

as a genderqueer person who does use it/its pronouns with friends, it is so deeply distressing to watch people talking about the murderbot tv show trailer argue about murderbot's gender. it isn't female-coded OR male-coded. you're allowed to call it an it. those are its pronouns.

based on how often the naughty teens of major cities throw the rentable scooters directly into the river i've formed a theory that the many iron age swords and cauldrons found in lakes around europe that we've previously assumed were ceremonial and sacrificial in nature were in fact thrown by teens

this is lovely work

"den how did this come to be" 23 & me sibling discovery two years ago

in fact. my sister's outnumbered now. like she's the outlier of the entire family

met my half sibling today so i'm officially no longer the oldest. and i'm also not the only genderqueer polyamorous sibling anymore

why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near? just like me, they long to be fed & praised

whatever vibe i radiate that makes strangers just start talking to me in public??? i've still got it

new wall tapestry. btw

i think weighted blanket time tomorrow might fix me

we have a diatomacious earth absorbant but like... solid and not cuddly for feline purposes bath mat if that offers you an alternate solution. it's like. a rock??? but then it dries faster than a normal bath mat

is visual asmr a thing because I

probably the best thing you can do is get really good at cooking. it's good for you. it's good for making friends. and it's hot as fuck.

it's such a fucking killer punchline i truly can't take the fic as anything but a comedic masterpiece. that's the literal end of the story. the entire thing is sincere in its rising tension but then just. they took his appendix. absolutely flawless dismount into joke territory. on accident?????

they took his appendix.

like they were going to kill him but he does get saved and all that happens is a surgery that he already would've needed soon in the first place

one of the characters gets kidnapped by a black market organ harvesting ring hired by his ex lawyer for revenge and he almost dies after they perform surgery on him while he's still awake and the outcome is just that he loses his appendix. which was already inflamed in the first place

been thinning out some ao3 bookmarks and re-found a deeply fucking funny fic that was not meant to be funny

Paul Celan, Night; tr. Michael Hamburger

As always:

*taps the sign*

realistically though? i really need to practice my vocab more and if there's ever time where i can do that with an audience that would be fun & give us more shared signs

i will simply start signing at you the way art talks at us all in spanish or french <3

jennifer send me your wisconsonian recipe

art's midwestern family is from a different state and apparently his mom makes it with cream of mushroom instead so Different approaches.. we will have to compare sometime