my mom, dead in the middle of a conversation, slams on the breaks in the middle of a country road so she can pull over and take a picture of all these cows running for cover from the rain and adsfkjlfkdjg and thi dskfjfgj
for those interested in what Hugo gets up to, he's such an enjoyer of Produce that he's resorted stealing the strawberries straight out of our garden. just plucking them right off the plant with his teeth. he always chooses the ripest and nicest one.
it’s okay to do things that make your symptoms worse (as long as you’ll stay safe)
every once in a while you need to eat something yummy. or go on a walk. or a trip to the zoo. take a hot shower. cry your eyes out. dance. listen to music. draw for way to long. write. laugh. sit in a cafe with a friend. paint your nails. dye your hair. go on a run. pet a cat
sometimes you need to do things that are cathartic or make yourself feel alive. sometimes you need the reminder of why you’re fighting so hard to stay alive
this is your reminder that just because it makes your symptoms worse, it isn’t always the wrong thing to do. there can be value in these actions
I love animals that are, like, the opposite of cryptids: we know for a fact they exist and have a clear idea of what they look like because we have photographs and individual specimens, but we haven’t the faintest idea where they’re coming from - they just keep showing up out of nowhere, and the locations of their actual population centres are a complete mystery.