In other news i didn’t sleep last night because i like suffering. It’s a super nice day out so I’m just chilling by my window instead of curled up in my bed pretending i can convince my brain to chill out.
It’s working pretty good, getting a bit sleepy again. must not chase the Zs, it scares them off.
I often don’t sleep for a night. My natural day is about 26hrs long so I have to go to bed when really sleepy, set the alarm(s) to wake me up in six hours and that will force me into a 24 hour day. But sometimes if I don’t set the alarm I’ll sleep too long and stay awake too long and after a couple of days it’s a no-sleep night. Luckily it doesn’t really matter any more but when I was working for money it was hell.
This is exactly the same thing as we had back in the 1950s around where I lived - and similar elsewhere. Big brass pan and weights on a scale, paper bags (of course!), vegetables still covered in the dry dirt from being recently picked or dug up. Different world then.
Come up with scientific sounding (somehow I doubt science has actually studied this) reasons for not making eye contact/not pursuing improving eye contact. I may study this in my research in special education class. Personally, if I try to make eye contact for too long, it hinders my comprehension.
My speech therapist and psychologist are on the same trip my primary doc used to be on until I got her to let it go.
If you aren’t a student, a colleague, or someone at the barn, I don’t have the spoons to make eye contact with you. I barely have the spoons some days to make it with them. I’m either looking above/below the eyes or do it for like 3 seconds and look away.
Why are neurotypicals so damn obsessed over eye contact?
As a lay person, and pretty much NT at that, I think it’s a one-to-one thing. It shows that you and I are communicating with each other and not anyone else who may be nearby. There’s a lot of information in the eyes and their surrounding areas and communication is aided by being able to see all that. I must say I find it disconcerting to talk to someone wearing dark(ened) glasses or any face covering. We (NTs) can get used to it though, especially if we know that the communication is still there - we talk on the phone without seeing the other person, after all. I think it only appears to be an obsession because we consider eye contact a default position and need to get used to it not being the case.
i see a lot of things about how older people on tumblr are “creepy” or whatever, and it’s mostly bullshit
but i wanna say, if you’re over 33, and you’re on tumblr, and you joined as a teen, that’s some creepy shit.
wouldnt that be impossible if tumblr started in 2007?
or is that the joke?
yes that’s the joke
i was quipping about how it’d be creepy if you were over 30 and joined as a teen, but then went and looked it up and bumped the number a bit and posted it.
Got to say I’m over 33 and joined tumblr when I was a teen, only it wasn’t called tumblr then.
I never cared much about birthdays before, usually nobody noticed and I was fine with that–it’s just a number, right? Well, this one has been looming over me for months and now it’s here, and it’s hitting me hard. I don’t want to be old! I don’t care at all what I look like, or anything, but I feel my mortality and my life is likely to only keep getting worse from now on. I know this mood will pass, but I am really disgusted with everything right now.
I don’t have many followers, but if you see this and have a minute to spare, please send good wishes, condolences or other sentiments my way.
Thanks…
Hi Kurloz38. This year I turn 70 and I still function pretty well. One or two bits have fallen off on the journey but hey, we get along. Whilst I will give any human the minimal respect they naturally deserve, in mthe main I don’t give a fig for people and their opinions. I love to argue the toss about anything and everything, especially when I know nothing about the subject under discussion. Winding susceptible people up has become an engaging pastime. Give yourself a break and let your hair (if you still have any) down. Be rude. Dress like you don’t care. Don’t care. We’re all gonna die some day. Fuck ‘em.
Unless RBA’s brain is actually in his(?) butt then the quoted statement is probably true. However, since his(?) vocal cords appear to be adjacent to his(?) anus then maybe not. Who indeed knows.
So, a heads up for people who might remember or care: Door-anon (“my parents took the door off my room”, and various other hilarious hijinx) is 18 now, and has gone elsewhere with friends. Parents had gotten as far as threatening to get a court-awarded guardianship to prevent him from leaving when he turned 18, but in the event, they didn’t.
He’s on his way to staying with a friend for at least a while and seeing whether he can get stuff back on track without the constant harassment and abuse.
