Mandoa Solves This Problem By Having 5 Or So Verb Conjugations In Total, And Leaving Tenses To Prefixes!

Mando’a solves this problem by having 5 or so verb conjugations in total, and leaving tenses to prefixes!

Learning languages is SO FUN right up until you need to learn conjugation and then suddenly it turns sour real fucking fast

I once was a clocky tgirl who couldn’t choose to be otherwise. While I am now Queer on purpose, I was no less valid then than I am now

there's a post where someone said "can you respect trans women who look like men" and someone responded something like "hell yeah I love people who fuck with gender!" and like... yeah that's cool, but in a lot of spaces "trans woman who looks like a man" is a lot less likely to be someone who is intentionally comfortably presenting masculine, and a lot more likely to be a girl who hasn't started transition, or can't safely, or just didn't or couldn't put in the effort to pass as fem today, and a lot of them will just look like schlubby dudes and not a radically presenting queer person. and you should be able to respect that.

Hey. Hey Twi. Twi hey Twi look at this silly little Coincidence

Had a dream where I was exploring a cave in totk and found Demise’s sword

Edit: stay tuned I’m turning this into a mini comic series. It’s posted on @avid-makes-a-comic

🎶Welcome to the hotel margarita🎶

I’d like to think that the songs hotel california and margaritaville take place in the same location and the two narrators are just handling their situations very differently

This account has existed for 26 days, and I’m only seeing Homestuck. Shocked it took that long

Oh!!! Someone else found a grown-up mimic!!!!

me: I’m a homebody i like to stay at home!

the home: 

muddles my perception of time

Changes in both size and distance

lulls me into sense of safety and twist it into an oppressive paranoia inducing hellouse-scape

compels me to forget my own autonomous existence 

waters down the outside and/ or exaggerate it to mythical extent 

shrinks front door perron when i ascend, jarringly draws it out when i descend.

all its windows views are other walls of itself

the backyard fence looms in every horizon

bitter to abandonment of what belongs under its roof, including me when i go out to buy some good ol orange fanta

 doesn’t look for me under its roof, it always knows where I’m.

when it sleeps doors never open, i don’t know it’s sleeping schedule

whatever happens silently around the corners is real, my apprehension is valid and understandable, and indeed i should panic.