I fucking love science and technology. Today, using my smartphone, I learned about dark energy and whether our universe exists inside a black hole in another universe. I went to a pharmacy and bought purpose-made drugs to alter my physiology and brain chemistry. I learned about an event in a couple weeks, put it in my phone calendar, and I don’t have to remember it - my phone will remind me. And now I write this so that strangers all over the world can read it.


Well… I left this essay really right up to the last moment this time. Time to earn a distinction in the next three hours.

Correction: high distinction. Booyah.

(Reblogged from mybeautifulwretches)

*whispers* Krispy Kreme is overrated and you only want it because everyone else says they want it - all of whom want it for the same reason.



As I was waking up, I could’ve sworn I was hearing a strange song - a christmas song, vocals by a woman, with saxophone and electric piano. I listened to it for a bit, realised I’d never heard it before. Then my focus shifted slightly and it started to go away. I relaxed and it got louder again. It was in my head. I remember thinking while half asleep, “if neuroscientists were measuring my brainwaves, could they reconstruct this song from the auditory areas of my brain? When will technology get there?”.
I noticed the effect of my shifting focus and relaxation, and as my thoughts changed to something visual, I entered a dream, completely lucid. I was in my room as it looked a couple years ago. I looked around to find something detailed to test myself. There was a cockroach on the floor. I looked closer and closer and I felt that my vision was not connected to a body. I was a consciousness floating in space. The closer I got, the more disgusted I felt, but I was too curious to stop yet. I got so close that it felt like my eyes were straining to focus. I could see the veins in its wings, the textures and shinyness of it. The subtlelest contours of its body. I looked around again. I found a closed book and looked at the pages - I wanted to see the subtleties in the pages’ edges. I noticed they weren’t perfectly uniform - this book had been well-read. Some pages had been dog-eared, bookmarked.
I don’t remember what happened next, but the dream turned into something so horrifying that I don’t want to write it.

Employment and classism

Job interviews are institutionalised rituals of classism.
Do you express the correct classed language? The correct classed body language? The correct classed clothing? The correct classed speech and responses?
Essentially: will you fit in with this classed environment?
It maintains the class differences and income and wealth inequalities. Education and experience count for little if one does not make the correct displays of class.

Some more things I made.

that’s pretty much how it went down.

(Source: sandandglass)

(Reblogged from pixelated-pixie)

My brain has been doing some strange things to me lately. I’ve had a few extremely vivid dreams - not just visually, but emotionally. Events replayed, things I’d like to think I’ve moved past. Suddenly it’s like I’m there again, before the bad stuff happened, and for a moment I appreaciate it. Then I realise it’s not real and the moment is passing, and I go through the pain of loss again. In my sleep it feels like I’m screaming.
When it happened - the things, not the dream - I wasn’t the same. Some good changes from adapting and learning, but some odd things, too. I would flinch violently when people touched me, even lightly, even when I saw it coming. I would have vivid, horrifying nightmares. I would be emotionally deadpan for days at a time. I read they’re symptoms of PTSD. I still flinch.





(Source: eur0trash)

(Reblogged from punk-rock-foxes)
(Reblogged from proud-atheist)