Uh Oh

Communicating with my cat is so crazy, it’s like, you watch my back for predators when I sleep. You meow only because you know that I vocalize often, but the words I use are nothing to you unless they’re associated with things relevant to your little baby life (food, for example). You slow blink at me because you feel safe with me. You point your ass at my face, indicating that you trust me to watch your back for predators, because you feel safe with me. You sit in my lap and sleep pressed against my side because you need to warm yourself up, and you trust me to warm you. I know this because I have access to information. If I didn’t, these things would be weird to me. I call you Lulu, but you don’t need a name for me; you have your senses to identify me. You smell me to identify me. You nuzzle me with your head to mark me as family with your scent. We ARE family. You are both the baby I feed and the elderly little lady who watches over me. It’s a very special and pure interspecies bond. I have a concept of “love” that is metaphysical, conceptual; you have an instinctual bond to those that you “trust” to help you survive (and that you, in turn, help to survive). You DO aid my survival on an emotional level that you can’t possibly understand, because you try to aid me on the physical level that comes naturally to you. Who said survival of the fittest has no room for love? We share the pure love of deep friendship because you and I must survive. My creature, Lulu, my best friend. My stinky.

queerism1969:

hoziergender:

macklemore really just said walk into the club like what up I got a big cock and we just accepted that. what was going on in 2012

identifying-cars-in-posts:

officialfist:
This fit goes hard
1997-2004 Ford F-150

killyfromblame:

killyfromblame:
Currently, I sleep with a 15 lb blanket. It no longer feels particularly heavy. If I continue to pile more weighted blankets on top of it, I can get strong as fuck in my sleep. Eventually I’ll look like Goku just from sleeping
This is my autism workout plan

anonymousalchemist:

ykno the thing about poetry is that 99% of it is bullshit and the other 1% will cut you like a material knife, and for every person that 1% is a different section of the whole. this is probably true about all art.

notthegrouch:

were–ralph:
were–ralph:
were–ralph:
were–ralph:
the catholic old white guy asked me to explain lgbtq+ to him and it was honestly kind of funny
“okay! you have 15 seconds to explain non-binary to me if there are only male and female genders”
me: if you lost your genitals would you still feel like a man?
“no”
would you feel like a woman?
“no?”
so you wouldn’t feel male or female
“yeah what’s your point?”
So, you wouldn’t fit into the gender binary of male or female? :)
him:
“so non-binary just means not feeling male or female?”
Yeah basically
“so why do they use “they” so much”?
if you were a woman would you want to be called a man?
“no…”
And the opposite?
“no…”
Why why would you want someone to call you male or female if you’re not male or female then?”
it’s not a perfect way of thinking but i had 15 seconds and i think it got the point across
if someone challenges you to break through a wall within fifteen seconds, you use a wrecking ball, not precision tools. I think you did marvelously.

andriahh:

lysphage:

My bad. I was looking for a stupid job that didn’t mean anything where I didn’t have to do stuff. Sorry, I guess.