carla: yassified sisyphus

@intelectualoide.bsky.social

De Ecuador pal mundo. Ser costeña es el 90% de mi personalidad. I find a lot of beauty and joy in the monotonous, which is just a pretentious way to say that I'm pretty fuckin boring. se habla español, a veces me hago la bilingüe she/they

Do not messe wyth writers. Thei are the kyndeste and meanest and weirdest folk on Earthe. Thei kan create a person yn a second, or make a partye be rememberid for two thousande years. Thei kan stitch and unstitch worldes. Thei give names to emociouns we do not yet understande. Odd people, mightye.

Was watching TikTok videos because I couldn't sleep and ended up finding out about the latest discourse where straight women don't want to date bi men and are disguising their homophobia into a «my body, my choice» rethoric. now I'm annoyed at people I didn't even know existed half an hour ago.

The other day while talking with some friends I told them jokes aside I don't like to label myself as neurodivergent. I grew up with my brother who was actually diagnosed and if I compare my lived experience to his, I didn't suffer as much and I feel it is almost unfair to take that away from him.

A client wanted me to create a company, but it made more economical sense to create it in January and not now and she told me she loved me and she wants to work with me forever but we'll see each other in January. Somehow I think I lost money but gained a client?

En 1950 Ray Bradbury publicó un poema titulado "There Will Come Soft Rains", que sucede el día de HOY, 4 de agosto de 2026, sobre una casa, no sus ocupantes, que ha sobrevivido a une explosión nuclear, para finalmente sucumbir al fuego. short-stories.co/@raybradbury...

There Will Come Soft Rains by Ray Bradbury

The voice-clock sang, breakfast was ejected, but no doors slammed. The garage chimed and lifted its door to reveal the waiting car. The house sat alone in a city of rubble and…

short-stories.co