I JUST WALKED Five fucking months and I was finally able to shuffle across a room under my own power, albeit with a walker (I'm sorry I haven't answered comments or finished posting what happened with the stroke--cross-posting to socials still takes a lot out of me.)

Okay. Okay. Okay. I should try to explain what happened, why I'm in the hospital, and why I'm so mad without getting myself any angrier. Anger is why I had one stroke. I don't need another. .... Yeah, I fucking got Fettermaned. Brain bleed blowout. Back of my skull removed. 1/?

I am so fucking tired of nearly dying every other day and no I will *not* be some smiling positive inspo martyr about it, I am angry and I can't walk and I WANT OUT OF THIS HOSPITAL BED

(hi, not dead, not okay but I will be, problem with access to my anti-inflammatories that keep me functional but is getting sorted + dead laptop, do not have the spoons for anything else and sorry if anyone thought I was ignoring them, my tank is on zero--back when I can be)

it has not even been a MONTH since "Freydis Moon is actually Brooklyn Ray brownfishing FOR THE SECOND TIME," can we not get a MINUTE of daylight between that and "James Somerton faked his own suicide then posted balls and hole on his alt the same day"

I was going to say every time I try to move my body gets all "fuck you, I'm a dragon" but honestly that would be worth the pain if I were currently transmuting into a dragon vs. what I actually am: a sack of angry bones that don't want to work properly anymore

god, why do heating pads feel so amazingly good

I saw a post on FB that said "Queer kids need stories about happy queer adults." Yes, absolutely. But they also need stories of angry queer adults whose rage and disdain for the world as it is fuel them to tear apart systems of oppression, even if they never get to become one of the happy ones.

oh my god I am losing my everloving shite mab got her squeaky stuffed little bitty skunk toy stuck to her paw by one claw and she's trying to shake it off squeak squeak SQUEAK and I need to grab my phone and video but I'm laughing so hard and I don't want y'all to hear me wheezing until *I* squeak

why do I keep giving M. Night Shyamalan any trust any trust at all

Do he got a booty? Yes, he doooooo.

I am agog at waking up to being at $625/$735! Only $110 left to go to keep me housed! *8* days left! Please help keep me from becoming homeless. Thank you, you beautiful people. 💙💙💙 #MutualAid #Helpsky paypal.me/rookkilljoy CA/VM: foxrook gofund.me/a6b0a356

SALE! SALE! SALE! For the rest of #IndieApril, grab the ebook copy of my latest story collection for only $.99!!! Generous selection of fairy tale, folklore, and ghost-inspired fantasy and horror stories all with an original illustration by me! #art #book #horror #sff books2read.com/ABrokenThing

Me: I need to get up, but it hurts too much to move. Friend: Pretend the zombies are coming and if you don't get up, they'll eat you. Me: I'm up. Friend: Wow, that worked? Me: No, but it made me smile through the suckage.

ow.

Me: *thinking about a nap before work because fatigue* My Brain: or My Brain: what if My Brain: we concocted a dissertation on how Black Box could have been an amazing, emotional slow build Black-led horror-drama but it fucked itself with amateur-level cinematography and editing + bad tech knowledge

I think about this a lot. If I was "good at people" I wouldn't have been locked in a room for 100,000 words with only a dog for a year. Trying to be a people person online without knowing much of anything about socializing was such a bad fit. I have many regrets. Heh.

Fuck a buncha Impostor Syndrome. It exists solely as a tool of oppression, of marginalization. It’s designed to make us doubt our worth & gifts, to Other us, to distract us so we don’t rightfully question: what are these spaces? how do they harm? why am I supposed to want them? who keeps the gates?

when militarized police are arresting peaceful protesters that's one of The Signs

You are fantastic. You are an unexpected pizza. You are a series finale that doesn't disappoint. You are a fierce goddess in a jagged wood. You are a seed germinating in wildfire. You are a parade of a thousand Pikachus.

Mad Scientist building a Protocol Droid to transfer my consciousness into for eternal life

A story I wrote in 2015. Around 1900 words. Not much happens. www.patreon.com/posts/102945...

Darlings, write that book. Ignore the 'not selling' rhetoric. Write the book. Write your fix-up novels or your trashy book or your serious historical epic or your barely-disguised autobiography or your pew-pew SF. The people who love books depend on you. Do not fail them.

We are now on Pain, Why Day 2: Hunched-Over Walk Boogaloo, and I still have to work because [descends into unintelligible cursing and very unkind things said about a person that he actually will not say in public]

wait what day is it ... oh no, really? are you sure? fuck.

Not only does it take 22 hours for signals to to get there, but it has a data transfer rate of just 14.4 kilobytes/second. Voyager I’s computational specs are dwarfed in almost every way, by the mobile phone in your hand. But it’s unimaginably far away, and it still works.

over and above the usual "embodiment was a mistake", I really do think that the human pelvis is the Cybertruck of skeletal design

This picture isn't from a dystopian movie. It's from real life. This is REALLY not good.

When you spend your life being othered, and people smile to your face while they do everything in their power to change you from being yourself in public, full acceptance and not being lied to ABOUT that acceptance is so incredibly valuable.

Someone dear to me is an autistic furry and one day out of the blue they said "I like animals because they don't lie" and there are levels to that sentence even if you can't see them or grok them.

...why is it the best gaming mousepad I've ever had is a canvas-covered piece of cardboard taken from the bottom of a popup storage bin

Some recent stuff I haven't wanted to talk about on here has me feeling this in my fucking *bones.*

Tonight I am too foggy on codeine to think creatively and analytically but still have to work ,so I'm just taking the shite I'm watching on TV and turning it into gormless fuckbox queries. Tonight it's The Exorcist: Believer and scientific hypotheses explaining the psychology of demonic possession.

I love when I startle a bunny and they pull themselves up to be very LARGE and SCARY. I am very intimidated, my tiny friend, you have scared me away from bothering you

that “you’d succeed if you just cared and tried harder” line has done a whole lot of damage to ADHD people, I tell you what

“yes, I still have X and the medicine is still helping” appointments are mostly hazing

a pro tip is that if you use end to end encrypted communications (like signal) by default, then it also isn’t a red flag that you might be up to something when you do start using them. :) normalize secure-by-default behaviors!

from the river to the sea mother fuckers

Hookay, looks like codeine's the only way I'm gonna make it to morning.

Fuck *me,* even typing hurts and my laptop feels like it weighs 10,000 pounds. Please don't let this be the precursor to a flare-up; I was feeling so *good* for a while, and I'd like that to continue.

*whines* I don't wanna work toniiiiight.

One could well ask if the protests have been peaceful. They have. but also, ask yourself what the fuck that has to do with the other question of whether people half way across the world from them literally deserve to live. then ask who benefits from distracting you from the 2nd question with the 1st