Hey Y’all I’ve Been Looking Through The Goncharov (1973) Posts, And It Seems Like Most People Aren’t

What is happening with the ‘For You’ algorithm right now??

Because I have seen not one, not two, but three posts about kinks that I have never interacted with in anyway (degradation, piss, and the final being bluntly transphobic when I myself am trans??) and have no clue why they’re there. I get it if Tumblr is trying to let smaller blogs get their posts seen, but Jesus Christ, I do not want random posts about random concepts that I either have no interest in or clash with my preconceived algorithm. Simply, what is up, Tumblr?

i will defend to the grave that literary analysis IS enjoyable and a valid hobby but it's amazing how a hyperfixation on The Character will have you writing essays for fun

party animals

Nahhhhhhh, I’ll be there ‘till July

it's my last day of school tmrw what the fuck 😭😭

“Captain, where the hell are we now!?”

from now on your tumblr nickname is whatever you get from this sexual identity generator  ☆

So, are we going to talk about the new mine layouts?

This one has a bunch of open bags and those fake tunnels that come off it..

And this one has a bunch of pillars in a giant room, as well as being very populated by monsters!

... oh, and Emily called me a furry.

This has no importance but I want to get this down, metaphorically, on paper to understand my feelings:

Okay, so my parents will be at a festival when my prom is, meaning they’re unable to take me, which I get. But my dad’s annoyed that he can’t take me and I genuinely don’t know why; he’s trying to figure out a way for someone to take me in our campervan, but it really doesn’t matter to me. Like, I don’t care if I go in a normal car - that isn’t the issue. It’s more that they were also on holiday when I started my final exams, so I had to take care of the house, our dogs, and myself, all while doing the things that will determine my future. Again, I get it, there was a mix-up with dates and that’s fine. What annoys me, is that they act like I’m completely helpless by myself even though I’ve done this kind of thing before. For the last three years, in fact, so there’s blatant proof that I can handle this. I don’t need their help, I don’t know if it’s the daddy-issues talking or the mommy-issues, but something’s talking! If they let me take care of it, like I have most others things that I’m involved in, then it’d be fine, but them acting like I have no other choice apart from relying on them really gets on my nerves. Anyway, rant over, I’m gonna keep knitting.

It’s just the fact that everyone talks about the youngest child being pampered - and, yeah, sure sometimes that’s true, but if you think about the implications of even that, it gets sad. Because by being ‘pampered’ you mean being given everything that you want. Oh, you want $10 to go buy something. Sure! Oh, you want a new game. Here ya go! But there are no guidelines.

You might think that’s a good thing - freedom and all that jazz. But most of the time it just makes you feel like they don’t care. This is most common when the youngest is a teen, because the middle and oldest have already moved out or gotten independence, and your parents have forgotten that they’re still parents. Give the other person who lives in their house a tenner so that they don’t have to deal with them. They can have the game because what else are they gonna do all day when we’re on holiday?

As a youngest child, this just prompts you to grow up quicker. Get more mature so you don’t have to bother them anymore, because they’re not your parents, they’re just the people you live with. As far as they’re concerned, they’re done. They’ve reared children, those children have left, so who cares about the last one?

But the problem is; you can’t grow up. Because you’re 13 or 14 or 15 or 16 - you can’t legally leave. You feel like more of a burden, not just because you’re still there, but because you’re the only one still there. Everyone else has moved on and you’re stuck looking at the bedrooms they used to have and the bedrooms that the other people sleep in. And then you wonder, do I really have it as good as people say I do?