Playlist
A playlist about myself.
Can’t shower, eat right, sleep right? Can’t get yourself to do anything? Phantoms of the future haunting you?
Executive dysfunction and anxiety is a match made in hell. I paid $85 dollars for counseling so you don’t have to.
Mind you, these tips are geared towards those with ADHD. Might still help someone else, though.
you all have a little bit of ‘I want to save the world’ in you, that’s why you’re here, in college. I want you to know that it’s okay if you only save one person, and it’s okay if that person is you
— tiavision@tumblr’s anthro professor
a person’s own room is a world in itself. thoughts, ideas, concepts, reflections, and suchlike all take shape in such peculiar, morbid, unique ways. sometimes they fester, other times blossom, or are covered like wood; shaped like wet dark clay in your hands as you struggle to form what you couldn’t—can’t—put in words. everything is simultaneously so sentimental, so mundane, so gratifying, so crude. you reminisce on the memories you’ve created here, the decorations that are positioned in that spot of the room or taped on that angle on the wall placed up to express the small cornerstones of the persona you’ve built up to in your lifetime. maybe there’s a miniscule crack in the wall; a lean in the tie-backs that hold up the curtains and that’s ok. it’s all you in the end, anyway.
— thoughts from inside my room, m.s.
Fairy tales are more than moral lessons and time capsules for cultural commentary; they are natural law. The child raised on folklore will quickly learn the rules of crossroads and lakes, mirrors and mushroom rings. They’ll never eat or drink of a strange harvest or insult an old woman or fritter away their name as though there’s no power in it. They’ll never underestimate the youngest son or touch anyone’s hairpin or rosebush or bed without asking, and their steps through the woods will be light and unpresumptuous. Little ones who seek out fairy tales are taught to be shrewd and courteous citizens of the seen world, just in case the unseen one ever bleeds over.
— S.T. Gibson