Next Time A European Is Being A Stuck Up Asshole, Just Remind Them That We Own The Moon. They Can Be

(Part two of my message)

These are not the people I know. These are strangers who have been led astray and brainwashed by people who don’t think of anyone but themselves. My own family is almost unrecognizable to me. There are moments where I feel like I know them, when my grandmother will ask me to help her fill up her hummingbird feeder or sit down and tell me stories about her life or about my mom. Or when my papa will talk my grandma into letting me do something (yes, I’m a legal adult, but I’m still a kid to them) and then wink at me behind her back. But then they go back to being strangers, to people I sometimes feel uncomfortable just sitting down with. To conspiracy theorists, to people who, if they knew my whole belief system, might think I was evil. And it’s all because you value money over human beings. It’s all because you’re selfish. I miss the grandma who always bought me cotton candy when we went to the children’s museum, even though she knew I would get her car all sticky. Who taught me how to sew and helped me print off coloring pages and turn them into little coloring books. I miss the papa who would always carry an unreasonably big camera around his neck when we went to the zoo, who played basketball with me, and who let me ride on his lap while he mowed the lawn. I miss the people I knew. Those people are gone now, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get them back. I hope and pray that I will, but I doubt it very much. It’s a strange experience, watching someone become more distant every day, and yet still feeling them right beside you. Still getting encouraging texts and talking to them on the phone. It’s weird to sit right across from someone and recognize their face, but not the person behind it. It is extremely difficult, almost impossible, to come to terms with the fact that your family is gone when they’re standing right in front of you. It’s a kind of grief that is not easy to explain, and not recognizable to most people. But it is there. So, to everyone I addressed this letter to, to the people who have profited off of people’s radicalization, I don’t want an apology. I don’t want you to suddenly start fact checking and taking down disinformation. It is far too little and far too late. This is one of those mistakes that you simply cannot fix, no matter how hard you try. The only thing that you can do now is recognize what you have done, and let the guilt haunt you for the rest of your life, and I truly hope it does, because you stole my family from me, and I will never, ever forgive you.

Things only siblings can relate to:

Finding empty cereal boxes in the cabinet because your sibling was too lazy to throw it away

Taking the tv remote with you so they can’t change the channel

Making sure they’re out of the room before you get out of the good chair, so they can’t steal it

“Oh, come on, I didn’t hit you that hard!”

When you can’t think of a comeback so you just make a face at them

That feeling of victory when you started the fight, but your sibling gets blamed for it

When your sibling ate the last Gogurt

“Get out of my room!”

Giving your sibling the small portion when you have to share something

When your younger siblings get to do everything earlier than you did

Watching your sibling look for the remote when it’s under you

Racing to see who can get to the shower first

“Ooooh, you have a boooyyyfriend!!!!”

Mistakes were made

(Source)

Source 

My friend: Yeah my parents would kill me if I ever got a tattoo.

Me: Girl, my parents would be concerned if I didn’t.

Small blog but

I care

this is the offical ‘i care’ symbol this is how it works: basically you reblog this and your followers know that you care and that they can message you about anything anon or not and you will reply back or at least look at there message. if you care about your followers please reblog

My family is objectively cooler than yours, and if you don’t think so, you have a fundamental misunderstanding of coolness.

In the late 1970s, homosexuality was considered a disease in Sweden. In protest, some people called in sick claiming that they, “felt gay” and couldn’t come in to work.

Reminder that you should work hard but not push past your limit.