spooperdooper1

Latest Posts by spooperdooper1

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In highschool I wrote a story about a middle-generation of stellar travelers. Their parents were born on earth and left as children, and the middle generation will not live long enough to see their destination. They live their entire lives on the ship and I wrote about them trying to find their place in everything. They will never know blue skies and warm beaches and open fields with warm breezes. They’ll never know birdsong or crickets or frogs. They’ll never hear the rain on the roof of a dreary day. I never could find the right way to end the story. I wanted it to be a happy ending, but I didn’t know how to do it.

I realize now that it was a book about me dealing with depression before I even knew it. Looking back at how blatant the projecting was, it’s obvious now. It wasn’t then.

In the story, the middle-generation people are lost. They’re apathetic. They’re just a placeholder. The only job they have is to keep the ship running, have kids, and die. As the middle generation of people began becoming adults, suicide rates were skyrocketing. Crime and drug rates were jumping. This generation was completely apathetic because they felt that they had no use.

In the story, a small group of people in the middle-generation create the Weather Project. They turn the ship into a terrarium. They make magnificent gardens and take the DNA of animals they took with them and recreate them and they make this cold, metal spaceship that they have to live their entire lives on into a home. They take what little they have and they break it and rearrange it into something beautiful. They take this radical idea and turn the ship into a wonderful jungle of trees and birds and sunshine.

And I realize now how much it reflects my state of mind as I transitioned from a child into an adult while dealing with depression. You always hear “it gets better” and “when you’re older things will be easier” and I was so sick of waiting for it to get better. I was in the middle-generation stage. And I was sick of it. I was so sick of waiting.

When I was in highschool I didn’t know how to end the story. I didn’t know how to have a happy ending. I didn’t have the life experience then to finish the story in a meaningful way. I didn’t know how to make it better for these middle-generation characters.

But now that I’m older, I’m learning. That if you sit and wait for things to get better, it never will. You have to take your life and break it apart and rearrange it into something beautiful. You have to make the cold metal ship into the garden that you deserve. You have to make your own meaning. You have to plant your own garden.

You have to teach yourself that being happy is not a radical idea.

porygon is an awesome duck made out of shapes

Remembering James Baldwin: American novelist, Civil Rights activist and social justice warrior, born on August 2nd 1924

Here hold this

when you get new followers

i just had the funniest experience in vr chat, i joined a random server and the one i joined had Japanese people so i waddled around in my goofy club penguin avatar that i have saved, after a while a guy walks up to me and clones my avatar so were both penguins then another guy shows up and clone my avatar

now keep in mind there only speaking Japanese i don’t know what they are saying, then another guy joins in, so i got a group of three penguin friends

we just waddle around and goof about, the one of them tries to talk to me, but not only do i not have a mic i also don’t speak Japanese, they figure out i don’t speak Japanese and start listing various places, they get the part of being European right, and after listing a lot of places they ask if im from the UK and when i nod they all just start cheering. after hanging out for a while one of them gets real close to me and whispers…

“penguin brothers forever”

i hope that one day i will finally be ok….i’ll make a cherry pie when it is all over

TØP Bandito Tour Tickets

I'm selling two tickets for the Detroit, MI show on Wednesday, I can no longer go but they're posted on stub hub for anyone who can. Please reblog

Ceramics by Clémentine de Chabaneix.

you do not need to constantly justify yourself. go ahead. eat pancakes. eat a ton at dinner. eat ice cream sundaes at 1am. take a rest day. take six rest days. sleep in. watch a movie. watch ten movies. no explanations needed. you’re allowed to be kind to yourself.

I hear my mom shrieking downstairs, shouting up to me about “THE CATS! THE CATS!”

I run downstairs, thinking someone has died or something and see THIS:

I FEEL LIKE I NEED TO PUNCH SOMETHING TO GET OVER THE ADORABLENESS

happy goth pride month

ugly men are like, girls just want sexy confident chads who treat them like shit, when instead they should be with a stinky virgin with no social confidence like me who will also treat you like shit

I have an important story

I was walking out of the gym on campus and over to my bike to unlock it, and looked up just in time to see a goose attack a woman as she walked past. I’m talking grabbing at her jacket, flapping its wings, biting and honking. I’m no stranger to our aggressive campus geese but hot diggity damn. Then. Then the goose turned and looked at me and let out a horrifying honk and suddenly, it was like bullet time, suddenly this massive goose was flying towards me.

So I squared up.

I tried to protect my expensive headphones.

And I braced for Goose.

When that thing flew at me I kicked higher and harder than I ever have and landed a solid blow to its huge, boat like body. It was so much harder and heavier than I expected. No one expects to kick a goose. It let out this awful squeaky toy noise, tried to grab at my hat, and then flew up and landed on the roof of the gym, watching me. I couldn’t turn my back for fear it would attack.

The worst part? There was no one around. No one saw me kick this deranged goose.

For five minutes I stood there, terrified of this goose.

And then people started walking out of the gym.

“I saw you kick that goose.”

“Man, that was a mean goose.”

“Nice kick on the goose.”

Eventually it took off and I was able to resume my day but not after solidifying my identity as The One Who Kicked The Goose.

Southerner: oh man, there’s snow!1!! Guess we better uh… Not do a driving! *Drives 10 mph while sobbing*

Northerner: *driving a stick shift 80 mph in slick iced roads while eating a full cheese plate and blaring led zeppelins’ “immigrant song”*

Band rehearsals are weird because sometimes you’re all laughing about some inside joke or music pun and then sometimes your director has just screamed at the band and it feels like someone just died

Here's a video of me doing a single toss !!

for context - i'm happy about this because: someone in my band's guard quit in the middle of this season, leaving a hole in our sets, and instead of just keeping the space open, my band director asked me if i would like to fill it (totally unheard of here). note that this video was taken last night at my third (3rd !!) practice, fourth if you count the run through before my first game last friday.

A kid at work has decided that they don’t want to play with the kitchen set, and don’t want to play Barbies, but would instead rather take the them-sized stove and the Barbie-sized stove and pretend that they’re mommy and baby stoves.

The baby stove is currently at stove school, which is for stoves.

erection and election are spelled almost exactly the same and when u think about it they basically mean the same thing

hazmat suit with “JUICY” bedazzled on the ass 

adhd: we need to clean the space before we can get any work done me: ok, let’s clean then adhd: adhd: adhd: we need to clean the space before we can get any work done

This is actually super useful !!

Everyone’s like “those Germans have a word for everything” but English has a word for tricking someone into watching the music video for Rick Astley’s Never Gonna Give You Up.

headed to target for a dick appointment

sleepy on main

can you make coherent fucking sense for one post

You jost want me to pesinny on dizash… Welp heerg yow go. All froshed, bottered, bustering and browled.

My new favorite thing is realtors adding “NOT HAUNTED” to for sale signs, completely convincing any sane person that the house is definitely haunted.

me trying to write a conclusion to my paper