#(still less rude then the fucker was. fucker told us to off ourselves and had a fit over us asking for our pronouns to be used correctly.

[hyacinthcollective]

SEVEN DAYS

That's how long it took for us to be fake claimed

we've been aware of being plural for seven days and just got fake claimed for the first time!!

Whoo!! We really are plural!! We have strangers deciding they know more about our experiences then we do!! Fuck yeah!! /silly

[acrobaticcatfeline]

Unstable (A Fe Sides Fic)

Word Count: 2171

TW: It’s another vent fic babyyy swearing, yelling, insults, threats (sort of), an excess of anxiety, there’s an intrusive thought from one of them about jumping off of a building but its one line that she gets scolded for. I think that’s it but if there’s more let me know!

Notes: I had a really rough week last week and now that I’m done with school I have time to write fun things again and I needed a vent. It also is part of rebuilding my personal mind palace! I plan on making more with these guys, they are really easy to write honestly, it was like an out of body experience.

Pairings: Lol nope, not even a little bit no.

Summary: The mind palace was usually quiet. The facets did not all get along, and everyone is high strung during Quaranfinals. Someone needs to step in and get this train moving again.

The mind palace was usually rather quiet. All facets left each other alone for the most part, hoping to stay functional and avoid unnecessary fusions but the last few weeks had been out of the norm. Inge was high strung as ever and was snapping at the smallest inconveniences and that wasn’t even addressing the others.

“Listen here you unstable mother fucker! We don't have time for your whiny depressed bullshit right now! She has two huge finals and your fucking cahoots with Barbie is the opposite of helpful! She needs to WORK and you guys are actively working against that! Don't either of you care about her future?!”

“How about you shut your trap for 5 seconds and drop your high and mighty act? The only reason me and Izzy have been working against you is because you have been failing at your job ever since this quarantine started. If you actually did your fucking job maybe me and Iz wouldn’t be falling down a hole ourselves. For someone who needs to have so much control all the time it's surprising how little you’re ever able to keep. You act like you're the ringleader around here when it's obviously Izzy and Lia. I may not like Lia but at least she can work with me. You on the other hand-”

Lia and Isadora were nervous. They were onlookers in the argument and couldn't get a word in edgewise to stop them. Izzy was trying to hide in her Roman Sanders sweater and Lia was hidden in her hoodie that was too big on her, biting her thumb as her eyes darted everywhere but the fight. In the real world Fe was closing her laptop with a sigh, desperate to go and take a nap. She looked quickly to Izzy with all she had to say, communicated in the glance. Suddenly the palace shook and Inge snapped her head at Lia who was very interested at her chewed up Crocs and not the anger filled gazes directed at her.

“LIA WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“She's too stressed. If you keep at this you're gonna wake up T and that wont help you in getting her to do her work. If T gets up right now she's gonna fail and we all know it. Let Izzy calm her down for a bit. See, she's only taking a half an hour long nap, like her dad told her to. We all just need to chill for a bit.”

Lia was scratching at her face and Inge finally let the anger and annoyance leave her. She gently swatted at Lia’s hand, placing a quickly conjured sheet of bubble wrap in it. Lia smiled at the floor, still not meeting her eyes, vaguely worried at the signs of T waking up, hoping beyond hope that she was just still channeling the hyperactivity that Fe was plagued with. Izzy was meanwhile glassy eyed, placing herself on the floor blindly, waving her hands about in a way that all three recognized as her weaving a dream. It was wonderful to watch, extremely relaxing to see her go off on an adventure of her own design. It was almost meditative to watch her methodical movements, the simple twists of her wrists as she moved the story along. Lia busied herself with popping the bubbles, as Carli and Inge both left to busy themselves in their own wings of the palace. Lia sat across from Isadora, glancing up at her every once in a while. She muttered quietly to herself and maybe Izzy as well.

“She's waking up. I don't know what we’re gonna do, we really gotta get Fe through this last week, but Isa will stop us, I know she will, but how are we supposed to still get things done”

“We’ll figure it out”

Lia’s head snapped up at Izzy whose eyes were still unseeing as she spoke.

“Talisa works with us. We just need to convince her to use her strengths to support us in this. I know she can. Besides, dreams are so much more fun with her around. Who knows, maybe daydream mode will help her write her essay”

Lia smiled softly as she felt comfortable enough to look Izzy in the eyes that couldn't see her. She nodded and went back to her bubble wrap, far more content with the slow draining of anxiety from her body. At least until the palace shook again.

“AAAAAH!!! Well what a wonderful time to be alive eh? Heh, that's a joke, gods, she's asleep and she's still exuding panic like no one's business!”

Out of a darkened corridor walks Talisa in all her glory and self deprecation. There was yet another shake as Fe awoke. Isadora’s eyes cleared in an instant as she rose to her feet.

“Oh boy, Pops woke her up? Ooooh that's not great. I'm sure she's gonna be off all day huh Iz? Oh that's just fuel for this, gosh what have I missed?”

“Quarantine you lucky bitch”

Izzy walks to her with a cocky grin and does a simple handshake with the crazy eyed side. Talisa’s eyes glance around the room. She grins wider, scratching at her scalp.

“All this panic and mania and I wasn't invited? I feel like I should be insulted!”

Lia rose as well, abandoning the bubble wrap as the need to stim left her, and walked over. She smiled small and avoided her face.

“She's got homework. Its, it's all homework now, everything's homework. I haven't been helpful much, but I knew you would probably make it all harder for her, I've been enough of a hindrance for her, I imagined she probably wouldn't do well being overly mentally compromised AND lazy as all get out”

“Oh Lia! I'm wounded! I'm not all bad! Plus-”

There was a sudden shift of the palace again as Fe sat down and started furiously writing her essay, anxiety as her fuel, aided by a giant cup of soda from the gas station.

“A little blood pumping’s good for the brain, ain't it? She just needs a little push! Maybe off of a building eh? Sounds like a ball!”

“Yo, you've been up for less than 5 minutes, stop with that shit, give her a week maybe? So we can properly talk her down?”

“Oh fine, I guess my premium service can wait to activate!”

Her hands moved from her scalp to her arms, scratching without conviction. Isadora softly took her hand off, stopping the scratching and handing her a fidget cube to replace the destructive stim.

“Ohhhh! This is neato mojito Dora!!! Where'd you think this un up? It's pretty! It's my colors too! Ain't that sweeter than molasses! Why I've been so rude, how've you been doing Dora? And you Lia?”

The two smiled. They genuinely liked her, she was nice to be around, while she had her problems, she didn't get mean and angry like Inge and Carli do. She was just… manic. A little odd, maybe crazy, but she wasn’t mean. She didn't yell, and it calmed the two. And they got along well anyways, Lia because she often was a placeholder for her when Fe wasn’t extra out of it and knew how to deal with her quirks, and Dora because divergence fed her like nothing else, made her imagination run wild.

“Whoo! Well ladies, looks like I've got my work cut out for me eh? She invited that boy over last week and that was the first time she saw him in weeks? Oh and her other school friend left her group chat? Yikes, she's a right mess!”

��Yup. she… hasn't been adjusting well to all of this well”

“I’ll say!”

Talisa fidgeted absently with the cube in her hand as she walked around the palace commons, looking around at the scenery. The walls, usually a light lavender were dark violet and the paint was peeling in spots, revealing a gooey black underside. The TV was stuck on a looping image of the most recent Sanders Sides episode. She grinned wide enough to look uncanny, bending her back to crack her spine, almost splitting in half and did a spin as she rose again. She interlocked her fingers and cracked the lot of them and twisted her neck to pop that as well. 

“What are you about to do?”

“Why, what I do best dear Lia!”

She jumped in the air snapping her fingers twice. Her appearance changed, her extraordinarily unruly hair was tied back in a ponytail, tucked through the hole in the back of her baseball cap with the Slytherin logo across the front of it. Her shirt that had been well worn from being worried between her fingers as well as used as pajamas, changed to a tangent hoodie, her shorts with frayed strings switched to a flower patterned pair of leggings, and a skateboard appeared under her feet. She spun around on the board with her wild smile never leaving her face.

“WE’RE ON THE HIGHWAY TO HYPERFOCUS BABES!!! And a little smidge of depression but hey it’ll add to its effectiveness”

It was then that Inge and Carli came running and screamed simultaneously.

“LIA YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO KEEP HER ASLEEP!!!”

“Couldn't you for once just do something that was helpful for Fe?”

Talisa stopped in mid spin, turning slowly to look at Carli and Inge. She was no longer smiling. She was glaring and she stepped off of her board and took slow methodical steps towards the two.

“Now now girls, there's no need to scream!”

She was completely in Inge’s face when she said her next words.

“Isn't that right brainiac?”

Inge nodded instantly, fear filling her instantly. Talisa then turned to Carli and grabbed her by the collar of her dress. She glared hard into her eyes and began to grin as Carli’s eyes filled with panic and she avoided her gaze.

“And just for your information, Lia is more helpful than you could ever hope to be, you coward. For someone whose supposed to be confidence you’d think you might be able to share some of that with our host instead of sitting in your room at 3 in the morning and crying into Ramen over the fact that she still isn't in a relationship”

She released Carli, who fell to the ground and scrambled as far away from her as possible and sobbed quietly in the corner she curled up in. and then a moment later, her entire demeanor changed and she smiled happily.

“Oh hi there gals! I was just starting to get Fe to get working!”

Inge blinked owlishly. Her head tilted, as if the whole interaction before held no merit over what Talisa had just said.

“What? But I thought?”

She walked to the TV screen, changing the screen to be a first person view of Fe working away on her essay. Inge made a noise of confusion as she looked back at Talisa yet again.

“But, but you’re a hindrance! You, you make her life a living hell, how is she still doing her work?”

“You know what I do right? Like, you know what my job is? Come on pinky and the pain, I do ADHD yeah, but I also do anxiety and depression. If she doesn't get this stuff done she’ll fail, doncha think that'd drive her to be anxious enough to get it done? If she doesn't she’ll be depressed as all hell, there's no chance she can do law school if she can't even pass an English course. And the bonus of ADHD is that sticky hyperfocus! She’ll be done with that essay before Thursday, and that test for math?”

The palace shook again as the TV showed her turning in her math test. Talisa grinned.

“I’d say it was a walk in the park, wouldn't you? But you know, on an unrelated note, we should really fix that shaking affect, makes me dizzy”

Inge stared in shock and Carli did the same. Talisa stuffed her hands into her front pocket on her jacket and went over to the beanbag across from the TV and plopped down onto it. She pulled her right hand out and chewed on her thumb as she watched the screen. Her job was done for the moment so she let herself relax as she felt the others do the same. Inge rushed back to her room to help aid Fe with the memories needed for writing her essay, but the others placed themselves somewhere in the common room. Carli sat on her love seat and watched the screen intently. Izzy fell asleep quickly, not being needed for the moment, same for Lia, the both of them curling up with Talisa. She let her left hand leave her pocket to pat Lia's head. The only noise was coming from the soft snoring of the sleeping sides and the TV projecting the real world. Finally, finally, the mind palace was quiet again.

Taglist: @fivebyfive-finebyfive @tacohippy56900 @analogical-mess @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @angels-and-dreams @fandomloverangel

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing or taken off my list!

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!

[ecotone99]

[RF] The Mask We Wear. (Please give feedback)

Growing up, I was always appreciated. Never once was I told I wasn't good enough, or that I wouldn't amount to anything. My parents weren't like that, my father was a pastor and my mother stayed at home raising us kids. They always looked after us, did what was best for us. And back when we didn't have much family was all we had, sounds a little cliche but it's true. And you would do anything for your family.

August 2013

"Antony, come hear," those few words changed my life forever. My father was the type of man who liked to keep his cards close to his chest, never telling anyone anything if he didn't have to. My mother was the only exception to that rule, but the rest of us knew what was really going on. Me and my brother pretended like we didn't, but we did. When he called me over I didn't know if I was getting disowned or rewarded, and that was how he liked to have it. "Antony, me and your mother have been talking and..." the way my father spoke is how I always imagined someone like Caesar talking, a voice of confidence and control that just made you not just want to listen to him, but like you had no choice but to listen to him. "We both think it's time you start helping me down at the church." Now to a normal sixteen-year-old boy, spending their after school time in an old church may not sound like all that much fun. But to me, it was a dream come true, I would get paid to hang out with my dad and I would finally be let into the family business. Little did I know what a rude awakening I was in for down the line. After all, not everyone's father was the head of a major New York crime family.

February 2014

By this time the screams and muffled gunshots coming from the back of the church had become less than a mild bother, most of the time I didn't even realize they were there. In a world like this one with violence and death on a daily basis, you had to grow a spine real quick. My father had me keeping the books, making sure that the real one and the one the cops would get if they ever ask were consistent enough to not seem suspicious. I was always good at math, a skill that the rest of my family didn't share. So while my brother Romulus was being groomed to take over the business someday; all intimidation and muscle, I was becoming a cheap teenaged accountant. And as hard as it may be to believe I was actually fine with where I was, unlike most people in the crime family, I didn't have ambitions. I didn't want to be in charge, I didn't need to be. I got to stay in my small room in the back of the church with a desk and a lamp, all that I needed.

March 2019

Flash forward five years. Five years of me doing the exact same thing, crunching numbers and putting them in the books. The family was stable, it wasn't what it was but we were doing alright. But that all changed when it came time for my father to name his successor, he didn't give the seat to my brother, who he had been raising into the kind of leader he was… no, he said my name. All and all I was surprised, honoured, but surprised. And when I asked him why he chose me over my brother, he told me, "I don't want another tough brute running this family Antony, we've had enough of that and now they way we make our living is going extinct." He wanted someone smart to help run the family back into its prime, and he chose me to do it. I couldn't just say no, I wanted to but men like my father didn't accept no. So if I couldn't get out of it I would just have to do what he wanted, and I would have to do it the best I possibly could. I respected my father too much to half-ass a job he entrusted me with, even if it was one I didn't want.

My brother wasn't too pleased with my father's choice. And I couldn't really blame him, imagine that your entire life, you believed that you had something as a sure thing and then when the moment finally comes it's given to someone else. He felt betrayed, and when our father wasn't around he made sure I knew it, "you scrawny mother fucker, I don't know how you did this but I'm going-." But as soon as dad was back in the room, he went back to being the voiceless thug he actually was, "You're doing the family proud, Antony." He didn't have to like Dads decision, but there was absolutely no way he could question it, not if he wanted to stay in the family. And once he was out of the family he lost all protections, and you don't do the kind of business he's done without making a few enemies. It sounds cliche but it's true.

It only took a few months after the announcement that I would be the new Boss for my father to decide that it was time for him to retire. One hand I agreed with him, he was getting older and he didn't need the kind of stress that came with the job. On the other hand, him retiring meant I would have to take over sooner than I was expecting. I thought I would have enough time to prepare myself, I wasn't ready to run the family yet. I always thought my dad would die before giving up his seat, that's just the kind of man he was, he would give everything he had. But he decided to give it up while he was still breathing, and I wasn't quite sure what to do with that, but I didn't have to think about it long.

They got me when I was walking home from the church. I should have been safe. But no, one minute you're walking down the street, the next you're chloroformed and thrown in the back of a van. The next thing I remember is waking up in the cliche mob torture warehouse tied to a chair. I mean this place had it all, broken windows, in the middle of nowhere, lots of floor space, the works. At first, I was alone, it's a technique that lets the victim realize the gravity of the situation, let their fear build up. But it didn't really bother me, when my kidnappers finally decided to show themselves, I was entirely disappointed. The pair, a man and a woman, were wearing these weird anime masks with blank smiling expressions. If they were wearing masks that meant I was going home alive and that they would be hunted down like dogs. "Hello, Mr Blackwell," the woman, talked first, calm, clearly a professional. Fortunately for myself, being the son of a crime boss made being kidnapped a real possibility growing up, and learning not to be afraid of stuff like this was just a part of it. My father would have me kidnapped a couple of times a year, just for a situation like this one. "You are going to give up your seat as the head of the Blackwell family and pass it down to your brother." You have no idea how much I wanted to give it up, just to get out of this damp warehouse if nothing else. But my father was the God of his own little world, and if you disappointed him it didn't matter how much he loved you, he would smite you.

"And why would I do that."

"Because if you don't, we'll carve your face up so good your own mother won't be able to recognise you," I had heard of this lady before, The Plastic Surgeon. She could make anyone's reflection a grotesque stranger if they didn't do what her client wanted, only ever touching the face, she wouldn't lay a finger on anything else. And now it seemed like it was my turn under her knife. "So… whats is going to be kid?"

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to say no." And that's when I got the first of many punches. I'm pretty sure she broke my nose, not that it matters in the grand scheme of things.

"Alright, that was your one and only chance. I don't care if in five minutes you cry out for me to stop, there are no second chances with me." And that's when the beatings began, up until she said the words that really made me nervous, "go get the belt sander." Over the next six months, she would take various sharp objects, from screws to sandpaper and shove them in my face, stabbing, slicing, and grinding away at my identity. She was actually quite inventive, something I could respect. Eventually, I couldn't even feel it anymore, it just became the only constant thing I had to look forward to.

"Hahahaha!," it was a little scary, "hahaha! C'mon, is that the best you got? You didn't even scrape bone this time." The pain became my life, and why not try to enjoy it more than the masochist torturing me? Near the end, I'm pretty sure I had felt all the pain The Plastic Surgeon could deal out. But eventually, every party must end. “I'll admit you're tough for someone who looks so fragile,” at this point, I couldn't even talk, the skin of my face was more like a mask in itself, hanging on by a few threads. "But I'm afraid it's now time for our parting gift,” and that’s when she wheeled out the acid. You would think that your flesh burning, melting back in place would be my wake up call, but I was just happy to feel again. They dropped me off in the bad part of town, in nothing but a blanket and one of their masks to cover myself and keep my face in place. Some people at this point would have given up, no clothes, no face, a family who thinks your most likely dead. I had basically nothing… Except for a plan.

“And now, we find ourselves at the end result of that plan,” in the empty, dimly lit restaurant the Blackwell crime family's dinner of twelve was interrupted by an unexpected thirteenth guest. Wearing the most audacious suit he could find: a bright red jacket and neon green pants, and the same mask his kidnappers left him with. His voice was flamboyant and excited The masks solid expression surveyed the room, looking at his captive audience. Every member at the table was bound and gagged, completely at the mercy of the prodigal son returned. “I mean it wasn't a hard leap for me to figure out that it was my own brother who hired The Plastic Surgeon. Who else would have wanted me out of the picture?” he stopped in front of a young man, sitting at the table, with fear in his eyes. “Just admit it,” he said pulling the tape off his brother's mouth. He was breathing heavily, sweat starting to form on his brow,

"Alright Antony, I'm sorry-"

“Oh wait, It doesn't really matter if you confess or not,” with that he cut the young man's throat, blood falling from his neck and into the young man's dinner as he struggled to breathe, drowning in his own blood. "But the plan doesn't stop there… after those long months in the warehouse, I thought I had gone insane. But then I realized, insanity is just a different form of clarity. And believe me, I am just starting to see things much more clearly. As soon as I figured out it was Romulus I knew I was going to kill him, I just had to figure out where and when. Lucky for me the annual family meeting was coming up, and even though I never attended one, I did all the books, so your "secret" meeting place," he said making air quotes with his hands, still holding the bloody knife, "was always just that old Italian restaurant dad used to take me to." As he talked he walked around the table, "next I needed to hire some muscle, fortunately, the family has no shortage of people they've pissed off." With a snap of his fingers, four men with gas tanks emerged from the shadows.

"Now," he said addressing his father at the head of the table, "in a mobster movie, this would be the time that I say that this is just business, nothing personal… but," he lifts his mask to reveal the grotesque, scared, sliced, burned, and melted collection of flesh he had for a face. "This is extremely personal," on his command the men started pouring the gasoline on the members of the family. He pulled a matchbook from his pocket, tossing it from one hand to another, "now dad, I really don't want to do this, like I said… you were always nice to me. The best father I could have asked for," he takes a match from the matchbook. Lighting it, the match reflected off of the plastic, his plastic mask glowing in the firelight, “but this isn’t about me,” he drops the match and the entire table is set ablaze, the muffled screams of the other men echo throughout the room, his father just stared at him, his expression unreadable as he burned, “I’m sorry dad, but something happened in that warehouse. I didn't want this job at first, but the more they tortured me, told me to give it up the more I wanted to hold onto it. So that's what I'm going to do, make your dream come true, bring this family into the future better than it ever was… bu In order to do that I need a fresh start, the old way, your ways nearly destroyed our way of life, so I'm taking all the old pieces of the board. And we both know that the best way to clear the board is the best way to deal with anything… burn it down.”

submitted by /u/theobserver540 [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2RT5AGW

[exquisitelyeco]

Planks........

This morning I was really rude to a poor taxi driver. To be fair to me I had problems with them before, and that didn’t help. And my son, who is Autistic and is just about to start college, and that’s his taxi firm, so I is a little protective. ( Sorry, Loooooooong sentence there…) But still. I got the day wrong. Rang up and was, as my son said; exasperated and annoyed. Poor man. I did say sorry and admit the fault was totally mine. Got off the phone and felt awful. I later tried to ring up and say I was sorry I had been such an arsehole and ruined their morning, but they didn’t pick up….. And it got me thinking. I was, as a Paul said, doing want I did not want to do…acting out of my shit, not out of Christ. Then it got worse. I thought ‘How would you feel if somebody did that to you?’ Especially at 8.30 in the morning. And I remembered a post I did recently called ‘ Bartemaus’ where I talked about the Pharisees having huge planks in their eyes. And it got me thinking. What actually ARE planks? It’s easier to see them as Jesus talked about them with the Pharisees, but in modern day? How do I avoid getting lost in the forest of my own planks and stabbing someone else’s eyes out with them?

Well, here are my thoughts. Planks are blindness in an area of our life. We often see them in other people, because we have them ourselves, but either don’t know it, or will not admit it. And by doing so, we attack them out of our crap. Because it is done out of our crap, it hurts and stops correction in the right way. So the person is left either more damaged and closed down in the area, or, like the Pharisees, because we did it this way, we have ‘Gone half way around the world and made them a worse convert than you.’ It’s not about the distance bit. It’s about how we froth at the mouth in unrighteousness indignation at something somebody does we don’t like and feel the need to ‘correct them’ there are hundreds of examples on the internet. Somebody does a post and before you know it, hate, arrogant, vile and dangerous, mouth frothing, fills the comments box. Does that help? Hell no! It causes more damage than the original article, even though the original article could be harmless, but we haven’t seen it that way!! And as for the poor person who wrote it…..we could have permanently damaged them. For example, I hate it if I think somebody is not honouring me. So when I rang that taxi driver up the first time, and I couldn’t get through and I kept trying and still no go, I was very cross and concerned. It was only after I contacted the council who organised my sons transport that the taxi firm rang me. So, as far as I was concerned they had already started off on the wrong footing. So when I thought they had not turned up today, I got angry, and rang up with a ‘Don’t piss me off or your fucked, attitude.’ My plank, of refusing to stop and think, to breathe and wait hurt, somebody. Had I stopped. Breathed and thought about it, before a knee jerk reaction of, ‘The fuckers at it AGAIN ‘ I would have thought to have checked my calendar. And realised it was ME who got it wrong. So my plank is knee jerk reactions. And because of this, if anybody does something that I think starts one of those, in stead of being able to point out maybe they might have got it wrong, I bulldoze in, crush the person and get it wrong myself! No matter what the situation is. It is my ATTITUDE. That was what was so wrong with the Pharisees. Their attitude. The refusing to Stop. Breathe, and think it though, rather than knee jerk, and in mouth frothing indignation point the finger and judge. Rather than, if they really felt it wrong, doing it in love. Meeting up, being open and being honest. Because that way so much more can be achieved. For everyone involved. The bible teaches us a soft answer turns away anger. My anger mearly fuels somebody else’s. Why? Because I have already put their back up! Whether right OR wrong. MY attitude is partially or nearly totally responsible for their response! So nothing is resolved. Two people are pissed off. Possibly BOTH of them then tell other people about ‘that shitty cow’ or ‘that late take the piss driver’ so everyone else learns not to trust, hear or help the other person! Also it could be somebody, I have spoken poison about the matter too, rather than Check or stop and breather, actually becomes ‘ A worse convert that me..’ And so is less merciful to the person, should they meet them.

So planks are areas in our life that we have not, or do not want, to deal with. It could be anything. Complaining, hate, gossip, fear filling, being pushy, controlling, manipulation, just to name a few. And you know what? We all have multiple planks! Every area we condemn or judge others for, we need to check if we have it ourselves. That way, when and if we actually DO need to say something to them, it will be done in kindness, gentles, humility and understanding. And by doing that, we may have the speck, but the plank blindness will not be there for us, or them, to get hurt by. But we can also have planks about the totally OPPOSITE thing the person has done! This is a bit controversial, so don’t read any further, if you are easily upset or offended…… I love animals. I hate cruelty of any kind on an animal. It is defenceless and relies on us for everything. Food, love, a home, protection. But some people take it to far when trying to educate others about cruelty. I have seen it. I have seen people openly lie and give out false information to stop a cruelty happen, that they disagree with. I have seen them act and speak in hate. Just one animal that suffers is terrible, course this is cruel! Of course it should be banned! But we do not need mouth frothing, judgemental people trying to lie and terrify people to force the issue. This changes nothing, but makes a mockery out of any possible change because it hardens people and makes them shut down and shut it out! Another kind of example of this, although it is not cruel at all, but DOES need to be said, and strongly, is about animals as Christmas presents. There is nothing wrong with getting or giving an animal for Christmas. But there IS something very wrong with getting rid of it because you are bored, lazy or no longer want it. So the slogan ‘A pet is for life, not just for Christmas,’ Came into being. From a very righteous and beautiful perspective. BUT, some people judge and give hate and condemnation just because any animal they see gets rehomed! They state ‘There is NO excuse!’ Yes, sometimes there is a very, very good and valid excuse. The death or terminal illness of a person. When a baby or young child is in danger. When two pets do not get on, and one becomes vulnerable. If ŷou move to an area, say a flat, and it is not what is best for your animal. When a marriage breaks up, and the poor pet can no longer be looked after with love and protection. Then for that animals best interest and health, that IS the best thing to do! I adopted a cat from somebody recently. They were heartbroken to let him go. But the person they lived with was allergic to cats. So they put him first, took great care, and chose him a home he would be loved and cared for. And he is. We love him so much. And he is happy and content. So we also need to be sure, that when we disagree with what somebody else is doing, we are very careful not to condemn. That will NOT make them change! It will make them hide. It could inflame the situation and make it much worse. What does that do? Nothing!!

Ultimately planks signify a problem with the heart, in one area or another. A hardness, or a blindness that we either refuse to see, or do not know it is there. But if we watch how we react to situations we find ourselves in, we will begin to see which are the ‘specks’ things we might see in others that we are gentle and loving in our correction, if necessary. Or planks, where we first, need to look at ourselves; to see why we react like that, sort it out and learn a new, kind, gentle, loving way of intervening or pointing out a problem, if we need too. PLANKS! How dangerous. No wonder Jesus told that story. I think I need to find a carpenter…..preferably with an axe…..