Microblog Memes

My knife collection began because I was suicidal.

To keep myself around I got a bunch of knives so I wouldn't pick a favorite and "dissapoint" the others.

...I got better.

I'm 99% sure I know my killer is me... eventually as my spine falls apart and suffering massively increases with time. And I'm okay with that so long as it is my choice. When people talk about suicide, I strongly believe in the saying, "no permanent solutions for temporary problems." But I strongly believe in this saying from both perspectives, aka "permanent solutions are your personal choice that I fully respect as an unalienable human right, if you choose, due to permanent problems." Anyone trying to steal such an unalienable human right from another is exceptionally ignorant of the magnitude of potential suffering and is criminally sadistic as far as I'm concerned.

When I was a kid I told a Special Ed teacher who I trusted that one of the gym teachers was having sex with high school students and grooming girls as young as 14.

Rather than report this to the authorities he told the gym teacher what was said. The next day the gym teacher (who was a big former semi-pro football player or something like that) cornered me and intimidated me into shutting my mouth.

2 years later a former student confronted the gym teacher's wife. In the fallout his behavior came to light and he left our school and went to teach a few towns over. The Special Ed teacher joked about it after the fact.

It was probably 20 years before I fully understood the scope of how disgusting that situation was.

I kicked a decrepit german shepard to death.

I went for a walk on the Hudson Bay coast of far northern Ontario once when I was a teenager and we saw a polar bear. We're Indigenous and my family has connections up there so we went to visit them many times when I was growing up.

We had seen the bear a few days before from the safety of a frieghter canoe filled with a group of hunters with high powered rifles. We were in a 24 foot canoe and the bear was a huge adult that was probably about 12 to 15 feet long on four limbs and probably 20 feet standing. We looked at each other for a while and then dad and his hunter relatives fired warning shots next to the bear. The spray of firing a high powered shot in mud and clay is like a mini explosion or a land mine going off. It scared the bear enough that it started running. The land there is completely flat and featureless and the bear was gone on the horizon as a speck in a matter of minutes. We didn't want it near our camp.

My cousin and I went for a walk later, we came across the big claw marks of the adult polar bear in the mud and clay of the seashore. The marks were huge and it looked like it was made by a small backhoe or tractor. Clean cut marks from four huge claws with each limb. We were impressed and measured them with our feet and hands and head. We said to ourselves, hey this thing could tear us apart in seconds.

It was then that we realized, we about an hour long walk back to camp, we're alone and this bear could reappear at any moment and come running or even just walk fast at us from far away in a matter of minutes. All we had were shotguns to go bird hunting and we were just 16 year old kids. And we couldn't really walk fast in the muddy clay and tundra marsh where we were.

If the bear had been anywhere near us that day ... we would have been one of those little box newspapers stories of two teens that got killed by a bear in the northern wilderness.

When I was younger, I believed that if a woman was raped, it was her fault for what she was wearing. My highschool friends called me the most unempathetic person they'd ever met and I was proud of that.

Thankfully I've turned right around on all that and learned empathy. I'm ashamed for my younger self, but I know they were just doing the best they could with the very few tools they were given.

Context is really important. If he’s an undertaker it might be a bit odd, but a final act of love for his wife.

But if he’s a trucker, for example, that’s more than slightly odd.

I realized I was trans in middle school, i said something suicidal to my friend and he told on me. I never really talked to the therapists because my mom was very homophobic. I got put on antidepressants and suppressed my feelings so hard I can hardly remember my childhood.
5 years later my depression went into "full remission" couple of months before I came out. I then 180°d and got sent to the psych ward for suicide ideation this February.

The only thing that stopped me from killing myself is the realization that my cat would be rubbing against my body for pets in the ~10 hours it would take for my family to find me. I was planning to buy a knife after work but broke down in the bathroom.

I do a band count before I start peeing into the toilet….

“A-one, a-two, a-one-two-three-four!” peeeeeeeeeeeee

I then usually start singing a tv show theme song like Happy Days as I keep the flow going. Disturbed yet?

I spend time on google maps just browsing, learning where different places are in the world.

One time someone put a blurred out map showing their location and I knew exactly where they were.

I promise never to use this power for evil.

The town's undertaker embalms everyone who does not embalm themselves. Who embalms the undertaker?

I was witness to a very gorey and fatal lathe accident. It was bad enough that they shut the shop down for a month and paid for some therapy.

I intentionally make up horrors and monsters to lurk in the shadows or under my bed. Sometimes when I can't fall asleep, I stare at a corner of the room, imagining some unsettling creature that could be lurking there, staring back at me (if it has eyes at all). I imagine something reaching up to grab the leg I'm stick out over the edge.

But they can't actually get me. They're created, sustained and dispelled by my will. They may stare at me, reach for me, but they're powerless. When I'm done with them, I send them back to the half-existence in the collection of ideas I built them from.

It's a cruel power fantasy, to make up monsters incapable of understanding that they're the lesser horror between us, but it's fun.

It also seems to help me sleep, but that might just be the fact that focusing my brain on one thing quiets all the background noise.

I'm ready to die, honestly. Not that I want to do it, it's just that I feel it's time since the pandemic.

Covid probably saved my life.

I got bullied for about 5-6 years in school which ultimatively led to me just wanting to kill myself. Luckily for me the lockdown came so I got freed from the nightmare called school. My will to live devinetively improved, when not getting bullied the whole time you are sitting in class. However, when being in the lockdown I devinetively didnt process my feelings and thoughts about how I wanted to end myself. This led to me having almost a fill scale emotional breakdown mid class when school started, since we have been reading a play where someone killed himself and therefore learned stuff about the whole topic of suicide/mental health. Suddenly you realise, that all this shit kind of sounds very familiar for you which was quite overwhelming, but you can't let anyone see whats happening because that shit devinetively is going to get you bullied again. I never talked to a therapist about this and at this point it isn't needed, since I just went on and processed that time of my life for myself. I also kind of realised some time ago, that I also never told my family about this, but it isn't really relevant anymore and us just going to cause feelings of guilt in them for not acting.

When I was a kid I had a hypothesis that autistic people simply lacked souls and that that explained their symptoms. (I don't think this anymore)

I ate my twin in the womb.

I was lucky to have survived having gone my first 5 years of life with a heart valve that was back bleeding.

I also cannot tell when I'm having a ear infection unless liquid comes oozing out. I have had some many in my life that they just don't hurt at all.

I underwent a total dickectomy

I dont always look both ways before crossing the street at a cross walk...

Edit: Ya'll it was a joke. Thank you for the concern!

My parents made me way too casual of a liar..

Okay it might have been my fault

I'm really good at operating vehicles and other heavy machinery while on LSD, it doesn't significantly impair my coordination or reflexes. Delivered pizzas, drove a forklift once, and left more than a handful of underwhelming/unpleasant trip parties without having to wait til I came down. I suspect it's a combination of my particular neurodivergence plus a lot of practice gaming while tripping, hard to prove though.

In my school there was a kid who consistently made plans to SA other students and regularly bragged about it. The school administration not only knew but actively went out of their way to defend him.

I had my mid-life crisis in my early 20's because the average lifespan in my demographic is like 52 years.

In a religious church/school I attended, we had a "revival" week in which kids took to destroying their "secular" CDs, etc. It became sort of a game of oneupmanship mixed with a dash of Satanic Panic. You could brag in chapel about it and get kudos, look good in front of everyone. One pre-teen/young teenage girl went home and put her Ouija board in a tub of gasoline and lit it. She barely survived, spent months in the hospital, and was never the same, obviously. The adults then comforted themselves by telling everyone that she had seen red eyes in the flames. It was for the best, you see, the Ouija board did indeed have a demon inside. After, she got really into Marilyn Manson, wearing all black, etc. so they cast her as the evil kid to feel even better, I guess.

The end.

Did I do it right? Did I do good?

when encountering new people i am open and friendly, but mask up as they start saying things that let me know they are not safe people. at some point they become unsettled and go away.