People see bi/pansexuals as a sexual Schrödinger’s Cat. Until you date some one, you’re neither straight nor gay and you simply exist as a weird in-between state that only exists as an idea and not a “real” sexuality. Date the same gender? GAY NOW. Date the opposite? STRAIGHT NOW. NO OTHER OPTIONS. STRAIGHT OR GAY, SAME AS ALIVE OR DEAD. YOUR SEXUALITY IS DEFINED BY CURRENT SEXUAL PARTNER. THIS MAKES TOTAL SENSE, LA LA LA.
i have this problem where i don’t have enough time to actually do things because i’m too busy sitting on my ass doing nothing
i’m going to make a blog called so-unrelatable and i’m just going to go through really obscure tags reblogging things like “does anyone else hate it when you’re going antiquing and you drop your vibrator into a priceless arabesque vase and the entire table starts bumpin and you just gotta be like Oh My God These Antiques Are Haunted”
And that’s the most frustrating thing about depression. It isn’t always something you can fight back against with hope. It isn’t even something — it’s nothing. And you can’t combat nothing. You can’t fill it up. You can’t cover it. It’s just there, pulling the meaning out of everything. That being the case, all the hopeful, proactive solutions start to sound completely insane in contrast to the scope of the problem.
It would be like having a bunch of dead fish, but no one around you will acknowledge that the fish are dead. Instead, they offer to help you look for the fish or try to help you figure out why they disappeared.
This is actually a really good way to explain it, I think.
I WILL NEVER NOT REBLOG THIS
Favorite line will always be “No, see, that solution is for a different problem than the one I have.”