p0w3rpl4yp3t

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normal posting and actually replying to others will resume shortly tho, no longer in emotional stasis

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currently struggling to not text the ex about dad dying, but we haven't talked since October and that was a disaster, and everyone tells us not to text the ex, but the ex wanted to know updates about dad and ughhhhh. not gonna text the ex because no matter what the reaction is, it wouldn't be good.

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when it’s really bad again and it’s still way better than it used to be but it’s still really bad. and you do all the right stuff and you try and try and it still really hurts but it’s working but it still hurts and you go see the beautiful majesty of nature and your soul is so close to being at peace but your mind is still in pain. and it’s better but it’s still bad. and the sun is setting.

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this time last week, was in the middle of a last minute road trip, true ride or die friend was down to go to the hell state with literally an hour's notice.

made it there for the end.

told him a dirty joke and he tapped his finger against mine three times, pretty sure that was him laughing.

he carked it to "Sixteen Tons" (Eric Burdon's version), which as a lifelong shipyard worker, is appropriate as fuck, and some real King shit.

he was a really good guy, literally 100s of comments about him in his old surf group on Facebook, saying that over and over and over, the perfect friend

he was an okay dad. he was busy helping everyone else with their stuff (and surfing and working like a dog and drinking like a fish) and running from his own demons that I.

well.

when someone fundamentally has never learned how to be there for himself, how could I even expect him to be there for me?

we're so much alike. it hurts, packing up his room, and just seeing how our taste in media, our handwriting, our just... way of being.

still get scared of some of the other similar ways, how people pleasing and addiction just were ways of him trying to deal with how much he hated himself.

generational trauma and all that.

at least I'm learning the stuff he didn't have time to.

gonna spend a long time both hating myself for finally standing up to him on shit the last year, and also kinda be grateful he had time to learn and start to try to better in some ways.

on father's day, way back when I was 6, we spent the day at the beach, and I literally bodysurfed (as in held on to him like a human bougieboard as he bodysurfed) on him, and even then, I remember thinking, this moment is perfect, I want to remember everything about this moment.

I still do to this day.

Thank you dad, for introducing me to surfing, b movies, Godzilla, skating, college football, mountain biking, and giving me my eclectic ass music taste

Thank you for teaching me not to do two illegal things at once, how to speed, to always check my car lights before doing something fun and dumb, and how to drink without getting too hungover.

Thank you for being there for me, the times you could.

Thank you for being the coolest motherfucker I ever knew, and I have the photos and the stories from your friends to prove it.

See ya at the paddle out.

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hey, sorry to all the peeps/non-peeps this one is keeping on read.

dad died.

dealing with that, this one is in an okay place, just gotta do some hard stuff and just.... don't have the spoons

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Mech pilots as a chronic illness metaphor. I would kill the world for you. I need you to help me out of the cockpit. I swear I’m still every bit as useful to you as I was before. We’re going to need to add another drug to the cocktail. You won’t leave me when I finally wash out, right? I don’t get to be normal anymore. I would kill the world for you. I hope I get to try.

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The wolf is so done with the fox’s bs 😂

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Gazing into the yawning maw of the megastructure should be intimidating, right? But that cavernous interior is bright and breezy. Windows tall as skyscrapers let sunlight bathe a bustling town of sub-structures. It smells like community. We still don't know who built the place. But it feels safe.

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Embrace the Mechanical 🫠

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The Company of Wolves (1984) dir. Neil Jordan

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Pilot Dick Truly reviews teletype printout, STS-2

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"I'm 46. When am I gonna be Moon Queen?" "Princess, your mother is doing a great job keeping taxes low and grass mowed. We're not ready to take risks on such a young woman. It's simply not the right time yet."

Moon Princess Mystical Fuck-Fuck had heard this many times before. Every birthday, ever since she was six, she would go ask her mother, the Moon Queen, about a succession plan. When Moon Princess Mystical Fuck-Fuck was young, the Moon Queen would promise her every year that the power of empire and the glories of battle were just about to be hers.

Later, in her thirties, those childish explanations simply faded, and were replaced by an ignored text and the occasional link to articles on the Moonbook page of Moon 24-Hour News about how monsters were destroying the economy. The Moon needed strong leadership until this crisis was over. Moon Princess Mystical Fuck-Fuck began to suspect that the Moon Queen was not actually ready to trust her daughter with the Moon Queen Sceptre and Moon Queen Crown Thing. Certainly, her assistant did all the talking now, patiently explaining how complex running a lunar dictatorship is and how she shouldn't worry her head about it.

Still, Moon Princess Mystical Fuck-Fuck was very busy, all the time, fighting monsters that the Moon Queen identified as being dangerous to the happiness and health of the Moon Empire. I'm sure they have their reasons, she figured, while using her Magical Rusty Chunk of Just Barely Sharpened Rebar to behead a monster that steals soccer balls from children and drinks their tears. It would be nice if they would hire some help to chop monster heads. Or pay me enough to afford a Moon House.

One day, while trying to negotiate a chore schedule with the nine other Moon Warriors who lived with her in a four bedroom apartment, Moon Princess Mystical Fuck-Fuck snapped. It came from somewhere deep inside her, like one of those toy rubber tongue toys you had as a kid and kept stretching and stretching until it broke. Moon Princess Mystical Fuck-Fuck went on a rampage.

"YOU FUCKS SHOULDN'T HAVE LAWNS ON THE FUCKING MOON," Moon Princess Mystical Fuck-Fuck screamed at the top of her lungs while destroying a garden centre and punching any cop that so much as made eye contact with her. "DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING DRY IT IS HERE?"

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