just a reminder that the jazzwares (aka the company that owns squishmallows) is super anti-palestinian and supporting Israel and if you buy the upcoming Stranger Things x Squishmallows collab then your money might be going directly to fund Israel's genocidal actions

I understand that some people aren't willing to boycott s5 because of two actors' behaviors, but this one CEO has way more power than two loud idiots, and skipping this merch will do a world of good

Being 25 is like standing in the middle of the highway taking you from late teens, with young adult as your pit stop, and then it’s all the way to complete adult.  Like the other day when I found the complete, just released set of skeleton squishmallows, I made the woman at the register so happy because I was just a spazzing mess of squeaks and joy. In her mind, my ass was probably around mid teens thanks to my ability to remain baby faced to the point people think I’m a witch.  But, after, I was busy putting my new squishes on the wall when it became apparent how close my 26th birthday was to closing in (Jan 14th, thats like 3 ish months away now), and every moment, that image of a person getting over excited over toys steadily goes from-- “She’s so adorable!” to “Is she ‘Special’?” Like I have 0 shame over my reactions to stuff that makes me happy nowadays but in that brief sentient space where spazz me takes a nap and neurotically me makes an appearance with their coffee and newspaper, it’s sorta like a weird wake-up call to adult up while I can before my cuteness becomes eye rolls and a straight-jacket.  HOWEVER! At the exactly same time, I am like “Who the fuck cares?” like everyone gets excited about random shit, my mum used to get excited over the reduced counter at asda! She didn’t care who saw, my sister doesn’t care who sees when she spots a sale at H&M or whatever make-up shop, everyone gets excited about something and my response is probably the cutest because not only am I usually dressed like a baby, I look like a baby, sound like one and make happy lil dances because my ass is baby, but it’s just that split-second-- “Am I being too autistic? Am I being obvious that I’m mentally underdeveloped?”  And despite being mature in all the serious moments of my life, it’s always the random, pointless shit that gets to me.  Like that woman at Claires is probably giddy because my obsession funds the place she works at, I come in, see any new squishmallows and just dump them at her table like “RING THESE UP, I’M TAKIN’ THEM ALL” This can be either 1, 2, 4 or in one case.....several. ONCE IT HAPPENED ONCE! It was Keychains, there was a buy two get one free offer, it was too good.  She probably rings other claires around the UK and tells them to wait for me because soon as lockdown is over, she knows my ass will be dragging my sister all over to find the new, exclusive squishes like I never felt shame before in my life.   But again, it’s that small voice in the back of my head thats pointing out shit nobody else but myself sees or cares about. Which is being obviously autistic despite being the nicest person and helping anyone or any creature to the point you don’t care if I’m autistic or whatever because you’re just busy watching me give a dog a fucking pep-talk because it looks sad. It doesn’t matter but to me, it’s a huge ass worry and as I age, I don’t want to look like all the stereotypes you see in films, books or movies. regardless of them being not at all real, my brain is a shitty sponge and I will worry. So becoming 26 is just this like, dread over getting older, being nothing but this weird person who does weird shit, never amounting to anything and haunting Claires for pusheen and squishmallows. That is my fair despite it also being my biggest clap. My biggest living the dream moment as I strut into any toy shop, grab whatever squishmallow I do not have hanging on my wall and just paying for it, going home and werking the fact I did it, I went in, on my own, bought something for myself with no shame/fear and just owned adulthood where so many others would feel too weird or too afraid to embrace their childhood as an adult.