Like Me - Blog Posts

💝💖Happy Late Valentines Day💝 💖

Sorry for posting a bit late. I was bingwatching Markiplier the whole day-

But I managed to post something Valentines Day themed! yay.

WAIT TUMBLR HEARD MY PLEAS THERE'S PURPLE NOW WHATTTTT

SO I GUESS THAT MEANS NO MORE PINK FOR THE ELECTRO CHARACTERS 💜💜

!!!

PURPLE

!!!!!

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT

AHHHHHHH YESSS

we can do rainbows now :00

rainbow

┈┈┈ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ┈┈┈

also this is how you add colours without html magic:

just highlight a text and that menu will appear, and then press on the bucket icon on the far right for colours :DD

everyone say thank you tumblr

haha i suck at the tumblr html colours thing soooooooooo guess the electro characters are going to be pink sorry ;;

i know how to do it but i just can't do it correctly

mornings. You know who loves mornings? Alistair. You know who hates mornings? Alistair

My aabsolutely best try at Whats up? Pop!

I tried my best.

NOOOOO! DAMN IT, BILLY-BARD! I love Shakespeare so much, but this one play just will not stop haunting me. I'll never reach the ends of it. It's like a puddle that goes down far enough to have angler fish.

I have been exposed to this more than any other of The Bard's work, and never once by choice. I have been forced to read this play cover to cover four times in school, including for one exhausperated highschool teacher who got the lot of us engaged by giving extra credit to whoever found the most dick jokes. I've seen it performed by every kind of troop from school kids to the actual globe theater. I once got roped into playing a bit part in a performance art street production because I happen to be walking by, and I NEVER CAUGHT THIS?!?

I tip my hat to you, thank you for showing me yet another facet to the peerless jewel I am repeatedly clubbed over the head with whether I like it or not.

It's a perfect sonnet.

14 lines. 3 stanzas in ABAB rhyme, and a rhyming couplet at the end.

It starts off with each of them speaking a whole stanza. Romeo offering up a self depreciating metaphor (a pilgrim at a holy shrine, sinful for wanting to place a kiss on her hand), and Juliet returning it (it's not a sin for a pilgrim to touch the hands of a saint. Pilgrims and the saints hands can touch. )

Then they share a quatraine, keeping the rhyme and rhythm steady, the flirting turning even more overt. (Saints and pilgrims both have lips, yeah? Well, sure, for prayer. Well if a pilgrims hand can touch a saints hand, then their lips...)

Then they each speak half a couplet (the saints dont make the first move, but if its a prayer....well, here I am, praying....), and share their first kiss.

It's flirty and silly and a little irreverent, and they become more and more in sync as they speak.

This is a heightened, fantastical, almost reality bending moment. This is a moment where two lonely teenagers, one who is having her future decided without her and the other fresh from an unrequited rejection, feel the world shift around them.

And the foreshadowing sits at the end of stanza 3. This is an act of faith, but if it cannot be, it will turn to despair.

And I just. The craft of it. The poetry of it. How the form and the rhythm mirror the metaphor and mirror the emotion of it.

Rotting

When I talk about visible autism on my blog, I’m usually not talking about those who are clocked as quirky and weird. Although that’s completely valid, I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about those of us who are VISIBLY autistic. Those of us who are clocked as those autistics. Who are clocked immediately as having something wrong with them. Those of us who are named as slurs. Who are yelled at. Who are attacked. Who are glared at, pointed at, stared at, pitied. Those of us who are automatically assumed to be with caregivers. Those of us you see talked about in medical journals and on the news as “inspiration” when we graduate or get invited to prom.

This is us. This is who we’re marked as. This is who we are seen as. We are seen as less than, as animals, as objects, as “inspirations”. When we accomplish something it’s usually not seen as our accomplishments but as the accomplishments of our caregivers and support staff.

I get so mad when someone comes onto my blog, MY blog. Me. A visibly autistic, nonverbal person, and doesn’t even look at my tags or pinned post and says “Omg me too, I’m seen as quirky and awkward, I’m visibly autistic 🥰” and like…go you but I’m not talking about you. I’m not talking about “low masking”. Im talking about LOW masking. No masking or very very low masking. Those of us who are immediately seen as autistic.

And it’s frustrating. It’s frustrating when people come into my blog and say this because, you DON’T get it. You just don’t. You don’t get what my life is like, what my experiences are. What it’s like to be LOW masking or no masking. You don’t get that. And yet you try and squeeze yourself in. And that hurts. It hurts to have people who won’t ever understand this squeeze themselves in. Stop doing this.