RT @Alien8n@twitter.com
RT @FireBeets@twitter.com
in dinosaur culture it's actually really insensitive to wish upon a falling star
🐦🔗: https://twitter.com/FireBeets/status/1458133426431737857
It's pretty sobering to know that @TwitterSupport@twitter.com will just let someone hack your account without doing anything about it, cool cool, feel real secure
RT @heavyrocksboar@twitter.com
Threw it out there again but @twittersupport@twitter.com isn’t doing a lot to see that my hacked account @/LeifSoraide isn’t restored despite the obvious sudden multiple username changes. Tried providing the user number in a ticket instead as well as the full history of events but no avail.
🐦🔗: https://twitter.com/heavyrocksboar/status/1458141148044689412
RT @montypuffs@twitter.com
Yooo season 2 of #beastars looks great y'all
🐦🔗: https://twitter.com/montypuffs/status/1361672552259612673
So I might be even more spacy and frazzled than I have been, and ask for your patience, and thank you for your support. <3
I'm going to keep trying for NaNoWriMo, but also accept that if things progress I might have to postpone the novel for a bit.
So all of this is hard. Reckoning with my trauma around my upbringing, making peace with the idea I'll never get closure, finding a way to step back enough to see my mom as a whole person and not just...my worst memories of her.
Oh, and the uniquely capitalist hell around death
I wish I could view this as an opportunity to deepen my equanimity, to find compassion for even the most difficult people.
But Mom is a reminder to me of how much I still have to do in order to be the person I want to be.
I can take care of her, but I can't forgive her.
We were never close. And I'm still really angry about the way she treated me and my sister.
But she's nearly 90 now, with dementia setting in and no one else to manage her affairs. Like it or not, I'm all she's got left.
She's exhausting and infuriating, but she's also my Mom
I have a complicated relationship with my Mom. I feel obligated to do for her because she adopted me when she really didn't have to and sacrificed a lot to bring us up.
But she was also an emotionally and physically abusive woman who disowned me when I came out.
Lately, listening to Hobbit Shire-influenced ambience and music has been the form of self-care getting me through the week.
Like, I never expected to be so into #cottagecore as I am, but here we are
1720 words tonight! Gonna tuck in early.
A digital jackalope living in a black man's body. Pronouns: he/him/his. I love my blackness, and yours.