#I haven’t been poly since my early twenties.
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egregiousderp · 3 months ago
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3am thoughts are Skuun’s law of poly: if two people love the same person, they will love the same person in different ways. And learning the ways someone else loves the same thing as you can be intoxicating enough to produce its own form of love for the parallel lover.
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sybright · 4 years ago
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My Favorite Cats Ships
Okie dokie, @whitmerule wanted to know my main ships/pairings and I knew I’d have to make a post dedicated to this at some point so here it is lol (also sorry this is so long). My “main” universe, which is what all of my main pairings are in, is based on the ‘98 film for the most part (although really all of my universes are based on the ‘98 film, just with alterations here and there). 
Edit: My preferences have changed somewhat, so I’ve edited this list to reflect my current feelings towards certain pairings. This means that I’ve deleted some pairings that I don’t like much anymore, and have added some new ones :). All of these ships are in no particular order btw.
Main Pairings:
Tuggoffelees 
-I know it’s super popular and there’s loads of content on them, but I still stan. I don’t love them AS much as I used to, but they were my first ship in this fandom, and therefore are still very important to me. 
Demebombastrap 
-In terms of individual pairings, I really like Demelurina and Bombastrap on their own, but I like them best all together. I used to be quite fond of Demestrap by itself, but I’ve gotten pretty tired of that ship over time personally (obviously nothing against people who like this pairing a lot, kudos to y’all who love Demestrap ^^), so I’m not that big a fan of them on their own anymore. In order of the individual pairings I like best: Demelurina first, Bombastrap second, and Demestrap not so much.
Skimblegus (Skimbleshanks/Asparagus Jr., NOT Gus the theatre cat, I see the two of them as separate characters in most productions).
Jellydots (Sweet lesbian grandmas <3).
Tumblejem 
-This is my self-projection asexual pairing, leave me alone lol. They give me bestie vibes and I love that for them <3.  
Platoriateazer 
-This is a bit of a rarepair, but it is one of my main ships, I see Teazer and Plato as platonic partners and Tori as their mutual gf. Alternatively, I like Victeazer and Platoria on their own as well, although I like Victeazer a bit more than Platoria, but I prefer them all together.
And that’s about it for my “main” pairings, here’s a list of my alternate pairings/rarepairs that I love too much for my own good.
Alternate Pairings/Rarepairs:
Demandra 
-No longer my main blog’s url, but they have their own blog now and therefore are still ridiculously important to me XD. This is my fave rarepair, and might also be even MORE of a self-projection asexual pairing for me than they were before. I’ll say it once, this is my ultimate comfort pairing. 
Plonzostrap (Plato/Alonzo/Munkustrap, alternatively, I like Alonzostrap and Plonzo on their own as well, although I haven’t put that much thought into Munklato on its own).
Platoricopat (Cats Zurich got me obsessed with this concept, and @whitmerule’s gifs are are just *chef’s kiss*).
George/Etcetera/Electra 
-I don’t really have a ship name for this, and also this particular pairing is very complicated and I’ll try to explain it as best I can. George and Etcetera are romantic partners, Etcetera and Electra are queer-platonic partners (I see Electra as aromantic), and George and Electra are platonic partners. This is technically a main pairing for me, but it’s sort of rare and complicated in its dynamics so I put it down here. Also, I adopted the hc that George is a Pollicle btw.
Oh and just as an aside, I also really like Elecctera and Etceorge on their own, but I probably slightly prefer Elecctera, I just love the queer-platonic besties vibes of them <3. 
Mungocavity (This is in a scenario where Macavity is less evil and more of a dumbass, but I really like this pairing. It would be one of my main pairings if my main universe Macavity wasn’t complete shit).  
Jemtoria
-One of my newer ships, I usually see Tori and Jem as being somewhat far apart in age, so this is in a scenario where Jem’s a bit aged up and Tori’s a bit aged down. I love everything about this pairing. Considering how much Jem and Tori interact with each other in the show, this ship has so much potential to me. They’re just so soft and they make me really happy <3. 
Tuggoffeleteazer
-Once upon time I didn’t think I’d ever ship Tugger or Misto with really anyone but each other, but times change. Initially, I got very interested in the idea of Rumpletugger (which I still quite like on it’s own), but then later became intrigued by the idea of Mistoteazer (and all the shenanigans they’d get up to, both being mischievous and chaotic), so of course this led to me just putting all three of them together XD. I love this trio so much, they just give “bestie vibes ONLY” type of energy, and feel like a super chaotic friend group, and that makes me really happy. 
Bombbella
-I’m not even sure how to explain what led me to becoming so attached to this ship XD. I had seen people mention it being a neat concept in passing, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who actually truly ships them. I basically got into this ship through my “Jellicle leader Griz” au thing, which is an au where Griz is the oldest of Deuteronomy’s children and was expected to become the next Jellicle leader. She’s much younger in this au than how I typically see her, so the newer Griz design fits well in this scenario. I just got really into the idea of Griz and Bomba being tragic ex-lovers. 
They dated for a long time in their teens, broke up for a few years, and then got back together again when they had matured, and then Griz went and abandoned the tribe (as well as Bomba) to see the world and pursue her dream of being a star. Griz returned eventually, but the damage had been done, and Bomba was far from ready to forgive her. In the end though, she does forgive Griz, as does everyone else, but then Griz goes on to be reborn, and they miss their chance at happily being together. It’s just all in all a really fun concept for me to play around with, and has so much angst potential. 
Jellycass
-Not a new ship, quite the opposite actually. This is a ship that I usually don’t think much about (hence why it wasn’t here when I first made this list), but whenever I do, I always feel at peace inside lol. I can’t for the life of me find the post that got me into this ship (trust me, I have searched ALL over tumblr for it, I looked through both Jellylorum’s and Cassandra’s ENTIRE tags and still couldn’t find it), but I saw a post when I was first getting into the Cats fandom that talked about how Jelly and Cass would be this sort of “odd couple” that the tribe didn’t really understand, but clicked super well with each other for some reason. 
Even though I only ever saw that one post on them for a long time, I grew really attached to the ideas it presented for Jellycass. I like the age gap concept in particular, with my personal idea of it being Cass in her late twenties to early thirties, and Jelly being in her late thirties to early forties. It really heightens the “odd couple” energy of them, and I can see Cass getting along really well with someone older. Troika provides me all the rights for this ship <3. 
Some Extra Stuff:
Even though I like Platoria as an individual ship, and ship them to a degree, I’m not super interested in them. They’re a bit bland for me if I’m being honest. I like seeing them on my dash, but I won’t actively seek out content of them, so please don’t tag me in stuff surrounding them if you don’t mind (obviously this doesn’t apply to their poly equivalent). I used to include Demestrap in this section, but now I’m really not all that fond of them, I really only like them together in a poly scenario, like Demebombastrap or even Demelonzostrap. 
There’s a bunch of ships that I categorize as “I like it, but I don’t ship it,” and that’s where ships like Munkujerrie and Alonzoffelees fall. They’re ships that I enjoy as concepts, and that I would probably read fanfic about if given the opportunity (and like fanart of), but I don’t necessarily ship them. So you don’t need to tag me for them. 
The only ships that I just straight up don’t like, although I have nothing against people who like them, are Tuggerlurina, Mistoria, Skimbledots, and Jellygus, Tuggerlurina being the one I dislike the most. I just scroll past content of them if I see it on my dash, I thought I should probably list them here cause idk, might be useful to @whitmerule to know which ships I really don’t like. 
Note: I don’t see any of the characters I listed here as being biologically related, some people hc Deme and Bomba as sisters, or Etcetera and Electra as being twins, I don’t see this personally (In fact I have a whole bunch of family hcs that I’ll probably save for another post, if anyone even wants to read that lol). 
And now for my favorite 2019 movie pairings (which I also don’t see any of them as being biologically related), because they’re sort of relevant since I’m listing pairings and stuff so I feel like putting them here too:
2019 Movie Main Pairings
Mistoriastraps 
-This is the ONLY scenario where I like Misto and Tori together. I only like it when it’s in the 2019 movie, and only if it’s with Munk, those are my two requirements lol. I think Munktoria and Munkoffelees are really cute too, but I don’t care for them that much, I like them best all together.
Demandra (I see their relationship very differently in the movie, and I prefer their stage-show relationship, but as always, I love them). 
Tantojerrie 
-I know they don’t really interact in the movie, but I saw people talking about them as a ship on here, and I just think they’d be really cute. Technically Tanto is implied to be kitten age in the movie, but I imagine this as a post-movie, next Jellicle Ball type scenario. I see Tanto as being on the cusp of adulthood, where she’ll probably be an adult at the next Jellicle Ball, and I see Jerrie as being a very young adult, so they’re not far apart in my mind (plus I see Jellicles, being cats and all, aging differently than humans, so this isn’t as odd to me as it might be to other people).
2019 Movie Alternate Pairings:
These are just my alternate pairings for Misto, Tori, and Munk if Mistoriastraps doesn’t happen lol:
Tuggoffelees
-I’ve adopted the hc that they’re ex-boyfriends in the 2019 movie, and I like to imagine that they’ve sorted things out post-movie and got back together.
Victeazer
Skimblestrap
That’s about it for my ships. Thank you for reading if you got this far lol. 
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love-of-fandoms · 4 years ago
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A Bag of Blood, Please (Loki + OC + Bucky Barnes) Chapter 2
Chapter 2 of A Bag of Blood, Please (Master List)
Pairing: Loki + OC + Bucky Barnes (Poly)
Word Count: 1589 words
Bucky’s knuckles were white gripping on the steering wheel as he turned onto the street the blood bank was on. He wasn’t even sure how he was supposed to go about this, it’s not like he could just go in and say ‘oh hey, I’m a vampire and I need a bunch of blood for my coven’. Yeah, that’d go over well.
He pulled into the parking lot and took a deep breath, preparing himself to go in.
“A blood bank?” Steve had raised his eyebrows when Tony suggested it. “Are you sure?” Tony nodded.
“Yeah, my parent’s coven uses a blood bank,” he had shrugged, as if it were no big deal. 
“And they’re fine with just giving them blood?” Thor had also looked unconvinced, but Tony nodded.
“It’s not like the blood bank doesn’t know that they’re vampires,” he scoffed, and Steve’s eyes narrowed.
“So you’re suggesting we expose ourselves to a blood bank,” he said, and Tony sighed.
“Well when you put it like that…”
“Humans and vampires don’t have the best track record of getting along, Stark!” Steve had growled, and Tony raised his hands in a placating gesture.
“I know that!” he defended. “But there’s a coven kind of nearby that uses this blood bank, too!” he said, and Thor cut in before Steve could start shouting again.
“So we know that it’s safe?” he asked, and Tony nodded.
“T’Challa told me the receptionist knows about vampires,” he explained. “So we’ll be fine,”
Bucky walked into the lobby hesitantly, eyes scanning his surroundings for any threats on instinct, but he only saw a couple people behind the reception desk, none of which looked frightening. There was a young woman with pale lavender dyed hair, her dark roots just beginning to poke through, and on her lap was a child of maybe 5 or 6, eating gummies and speaking excitedly to the boy next to them. The boy was young, maybe 18 or 19, and he was smiling and nodding along with the young girl, occasionally turning from her to type something on the computer in front of him.
The woman looked up at Bucky as he approached and smiled brightly.
“Hello,” she greeted. “Are you here to donate, or..?” Bucky shook his head.
“I um…” he trailed off, glancing at the child on her lap, and the woman’s eyes glinted knowingly.
“I see,” she said with a kind smile, heaving the child off of her lap. Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Bella, Peter, I’ll be right back,” she said, and the boy-Peter-nodded.
“Yeah, of course!” he said, and Bella wasted no time in hoisting herself up onto his lap. The woman stood and walked out from behind the desk, motioning with her head down a hallway.
Maybe he’s another vampire. Bucky heard Peter’s voice in his head, and he grimaced. He really tried not to read people’s minds, but with some humans it felt like they deliberately projected their thoughts. Only Natasha and Nathaniel understood how awkward it was to be able to hear humans’ thoughts. The others all had less intrusive powers, ones that were easier to control.
“Follow me,” she said, and Bucky cleared his throat nervously, trailing her down a hallway and into a small office space. She shut the door and turned to him with a smile. “So how many bags do you need?” she asked, and Bucky’s eyes widened.
“Uh… what?” he just stared at her, and the woman giggled, thrusting her hand out towards him.
“I’m Mina, and there’s another coven kind of close by who I supply,” she explained, and Bucky hesitantly reached out to shake her hand.
“Bucky,” he muttered as he grasped her hand, and his eyes widened when their skin made contact. Mina seemed undisturbed, but Bucky felt a warmth travel up his arm and throughout his body.
Mate mate mate mate mate. His mind spoke on repeat, and he cleared his throat awkwardly to try to clear his mind.
“We um… haven’t done this kind of thing before,” he said, and Mina smiled.
“That’s alright,” she said. “The coven leader of the Wakanda coven told me that half a bag usually lasts one vampire about a week, if that’s helpful,” she said, and Bucky nodded.
“O-okay,” he stammered, shaking his hand out subtly, trying to dispel the warm feeling that had gone through him.
“So how many bags do you think you’ll need?” she asked again, and Bucky thought for a moment.
“20? That’ll last us a little over 2 weeks probably,” he said, and Mina nodded, motioning for him to take a seat.
“Great, um… stay here and I’ll go grab them, kay?” Bucky nodded, his eyes still wide with shock at how easy this turned out to be, and Mina left the room, closing the door behind her.
Bucky breathed out a sigh as she left, her scent still lingering in the room, and he peered at his hand, flexing his fingers. He hadn’t expected to meet his mate so early, Tony hadn’t met Pepper until he was in his 600s, and Thor had been even less lucky, not meeting Jane until he was well past 1000. So for Bucky to meet his mate at 102, it was almost unheard of to vampires. Clint was the only exception he could think of, having met Laura right after he turned 80.
He pulled out his phone to text Steve, but before he could pull up their messages, Mina was walking back in pulling a cooler behind her. He jumped out of his seat.
“Here ya go!” she said, her hand dropping from the cooler, and she smiled at Bucky. He gave her a hesitant smile in return.
“Thank you,” he muttered, going to reach for the cooler but Mina stopped him.
“Oh!” she gasped. “Um… may I see your phone for a moment?” she asked, and Bucky’s brows furrowed, but he passed her his phone nonetheless. She grabbed it, quickly pulling up his contacts and inputting her number. “There!” she beamed, handing him the phone back, and Bucky’s lips twitched upwards at the sight.
Mina
(The Blood Bank Lady)
*** *** ****
“Next time you’re coming in, just text me,” she said. “Cuz ya know, I don’t work everyday, and most of the others would freak if they knew vampires existed,” she giggled, and Bucky nodded, a small smile still present on his face.
“Thank you,” he said again, and Mina just shrugged.
“No problem.”
“So?” Peter asked excitedly, the moment they were in the car on the way home. Mina hummed in question, putting the car into gear and pulling out of the parking lot.
“What?” she asked, and for a moment she thought Peter was going to vibrate out of his seat with how excited he looked.
“Was he a vampire?” he blurted after a moment, and Mina sighed. His excitement was giving her a headache.
“Yes, Peter,” she nodded. “He was a vampire,” Peter grinned.
“From a different coven?” he asked again, and Mina nodded.
“Yeah, he was definitely not from the Wakanda coven,” she confirmed. Peter let out a squeal, not that he would admit to it if asked, and leaned closer to Mina.
“Do you know how many are in the coven?” he asked, and Mina shrugged.
“Probably a little less than twenty,” she answered, 
“What was he feeling?” Peter asked, and Mina sighed, rolling her eyes. Ever since Peter had learned about the supernatural around 5 years earlier, he was obsessed with it. At every opportunity, he would ask Mina about what other people were feeling, despite her telling him multiple times that her deliberately using her powers of empathy on someone was an invasion of privacy.
“He was hella anxious,” was all she said in reply, and Peter pouted.
“You can’t give me more than that?” he whined, and Mina shook her head.
“No, I can’t,” she said, her voice firm, before she sighed once more. “You know I try not to use my powers,” she muttered, and Peter sighed as well.
“I know,” he nodded. “I just don’t get it! I mean, if I could just know what people were feeling all the time, life would be so much easier!” he said, and Mina’s shoulders tensed.
“Would it?” she snapped, and Peter jumped at the sudden harshness in her tone. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “It’s just, I don’t just know what people are feeling, I feel what people are feeling,” she explained, not for the first time. “And sometimes, I don’t know if what I’m feeling is actually me, or if it’s somebody else’s emotions,” Peter frowned, and nodded.
“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, and Mina nodded, breathing out a sigh of relief when they pulled into her driveway.
“We’re good,” she said, shutting off the car and heading out. “Is May cooking or am I?” she asked as Peter went to his own door, and he looked back at her with a puzzled face.
“Uh…” he stood there for a moment, before nodding. “I’ll ask,” he ducked inside quickly, and Mina giggled when she heard him shout for his aunt. “AUNT MAY!!!!” the door was closed behind him, but that boy had a pair of lungs. After a moment, Peter poked his head out the door, and Mina stared at him expectantly.
“She ordered pizza,” he said, and Mina grinned.
“Perfect!” she exclaimed, doing a fist pump, before running inside. “I’ll be right over!” she called over her shoulder, grinning.
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carmintros · 5 years ago
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@ariwalters     /      ❛   。   ✩   ゚ my eyes are probably playing tricks on me again, but is that really  awsten knight? oh, wait, it’s just  adrian “ari” lance walters. yes, that  twenty-four  year old  drummer, who i am pretty sure is a  visitor. according to the talk of the town, he is incredibly  flighty & unpredictable, yet undeniably  outgoing & adventurous. that is precisely why  a playground at dawn, a carnival ride that just keeps spinning, chasing waves on a beach, laughing until you cry & jackson pollock paintings  remind me of them so much, but then again you know what they say about  leos, we’ll see how that one turns out !   penned by kit  /  mst & they / them
car crash tw, ptsd tw, alcoholism tw
Ari Walters
Age: 24
Gender: Non-binary, he/him
[Between the Bars] - “Haha, not totally sure why this one comes to mind but like everyone says it’s like me with alcohol and stuff but I don’t really see it, I think I’m fine.”
D.O.B: August 15, 1995
Why the name Ari?
“Oh! I was named after my dad ‘cept he was always called Adrian so they called me Ari so no one got confused or anything!! It always worked really good too!”
Ethnicity: white
Relationship Status: In multiple relationships “I fall a little in love with everyone, I think, because everyone is beautiful and wonderful. I’m kind of the classic definition of poly, lol. People underestimate how much communication that takes though!”
Sexual Orientation: pan “Like I said, I fall in love with everyone! I can’t help it, haven’t you ever watched someone go about their life and you can just tell if they’re gentle or rough, if they need love or if they’re loved, et cetera? I love it and I love them.”
Appearance:
Height: 5’7
Ari resembles a puppy with ADHD. He is constantly moving, constantly engaged with the world and constantly interacting with everyone around him. He has to be active. If he sits still he might fall asleep and he still gets nightmares of the wreck.
His signature ‘thing’ has been his dyed hair for years. He doesn’t think he would recognize himself without it at this point. He thought about dying it back to brown for April Fools day one year but realized it’s been so long since seeing his real hair that he didn’t remember what color to get to match his roots.
Ari has an almost compulsive seeming need to be the most colorful person in any space he’s in. He wants to stand out and he does so by being a walking color wheel. Strangely, he manages to make his outfits cohesive.
You can’t get too close to Ari without noticing how tired he always looks. His eyes are always a little swollen and bloodshot and his skin has the uncomfortable thin appearance of someone much older or much sicker than him. If he’s asked about it he jokes that he’s just ugly (though most people would agree he is anything but ugly).
History:
Ari can split his life into a perfect before and after the wreck.
Before. Ari had a perfectly wonderful childhood. He was loved and taken care of in his historical Boston home. His dad taught Marine Biology at Harvard, his mom was the perfect socialite and Ari and his sisters were happy
His days consisted of school and drawing and going to the beach with his dad to learn about the animals. If Ari was to assign an emotion to that period of his life it would be love. If he had to assign a color it would be pink.
His life before was like something from a 50s sitcom. It was perfect. He knows rationally that he’s seeing through rosy lenses. He thinks he remembers his dad having an affair. He knows his sister and he argued a lot and he was such a mischievous child it kept him in trouble a lot of the time. He knows this. But it feels different. It feels idyllic compared to after.
His entire world shattered when he was 13. His family shouldn’t have even been out. If only he hadn’t argued with his sister. If only he had just set the table then maybe his dad wouldn’t have suggested eating out. Maybe if his mom and little sister had been home instead of in California they could have told his dad no, it wasn’t their day for eating out and they would all be fine eating at the house. Maybe if his sister hadn’t forgotten her phone and made them turn back so she could retrieve it because she was so scared of missing a text from her boyfriend.
Maybe….
Maybe they wouldn’t have been crossing the intersection when the other driver plowed through it. Maybe they wouldn’t have spun out and hit another car. Maybe his dad and his sister and the little boy from the other car and the driver who caused it all would still be alive. Maybe…
After. Ari doesn’t remember the crash itself. He doesn’t remember seeing his father’s body crushed against the interior of their car even though he’s since been told he was trying to pull him out. He doesn’t remember his sister’s glassy, dead stare though he was told he screamed at her to wake up. He doesn’t remember the ambulance ride but he’s told he fought the paramedics to try to get to his family.
He doesn’t remember getting to the hospital and being admitted.
He only starts remembering sitting in that big hospital room alone for what felt like hours (he knows now that it was only a few minutes at a time) while nurses bustled past the door outside trying to focus on the lives that were at risk after the crash. Even still, the evening comes in flashes. A teary eyed woman with a heavy accent telling him his mom would be there soon and rubbing his back. A doctor, young and frazzled, bursting into his room to tell the cops to leave and stop asking him about it. The smell of oil and burning metal seared so strongly into his skin it made his head hurt.
He remembers the funeral. Closed casket, both buried at the same time. He remembers packing up the house and selling it and moving to New York. He doesn’t think he felt real during that time. He kept waiting to wake up and find out it was just a terrible dream. Part of him still hopes he wakes up.
His mom didn’t try to neglect his mental health when they moved. Despite having help from family she still had to take on two jobs, she had two children to raise alone and she had just lost her husband and little girl. It was hard to be everything Ari needed her to be too.
She did her best. He was sent to a mental health clinic and given regular therapy sessions for a while where he was diagnosed with PTSD and a trauma based phobia regarding riding in cars.
She put him in music lessons to give him an outlet. She enrolled him in an arts high school so he could find similarly minded creative young people and hopefully make friends in their new city.
It didn’t really work. You can’t throw a shattered kid back into society and expect them not to drown. And Ari drowned.
When he was almost 15 he tasted alcohol for the first time at a sleepover. The idea of it had fascinated him since the wreck. How could one liquid be so influential that it would lead you to kill other people? What did it feel like to slip into a haze that strong.
His first sip was revolting. It burned on the way down and he was convinced he could still feel it burning his stomach. He almost put the bottle up and gave up on learning its allure. Something about it still called to be explored and who was Ari to say no?
He snuck the bottle into his bag and drank a little more the next day after school. Just enough to feel warm again and for his brain to quiet and center just a little bit more.
The alcohol made everything better. He felt more human again when he was tipsy. It didn’t take long for Ari to begin to crave it just to function. He started stealing it from his mom’s cabinet and then from the sweet old lady who paid him to take her groceries upstairs. When he was caught stealing from them he started trying to steal it from stores.
He was caught right away, of course, but not by an employee. Instead he was caught by a tall, average looking man in his early 30s. The man, who Ari soon learned was named Sean, offered to buy the alcohol for Ari and invited Ari over to drink with his girlfriend Eliana. Ari agreed immediately.
That night he lost his virginity to the pair. The two adults offered to keep Ari’s alcohol supply always filled so long as he continued to sleep with them. Ari instantly agreed.
—-
After he started drinking he somehow managed to pull his grades up. He felt real when he was drunk. He felt functional. He could do his coursework and practice the drums and paint and even explore New York. He quickly fell in love with the city and learned how to navigate his borough on his skateboard. He learned what buildings he could sneak into and hookup with classmates in without being caught, all the best places for graffiti and where the coolest homeless people hung out.
As Ari progressed through his teenage years his ‘adventures’ got crazier. He broke into the zoo ones and barely escaped getting caught. He hitchhiked out of the city and spent a weekend far upstate before calling his mom from a payphone and getting her to pick him up. He smuggled paint into his homeroom and painted an abstract mural on the teacher’s desk.
Not everything was illegal. He once snuck into an early morning wholesale flower market and convinced a florist to buy him enough white roses to leave one on every grave in The Cathedral Basilica of St. James cemetery and even convinced some of his friends to help him distribute them. He raised money once and bought everyone at his school pizza for lunch so “the lunch people get a day off.”
When he was asked to play drums for a new band that was forming he had to say yes. It was just a chance at another adventure.
—-
He never expected them to get as famous as they did. He figured they would disband rapidly and he could go to college for marine biology. Like his dad. Obviously, that didn’t happen.
Miraculously for all of Ari’s adventures and alcoholism he didn’t have any major scandals during the bands active time. He left that for Jae.
Instead he tried to fly under the radar. He didn’t want anyone picking up on his issues. He maintained his alcoholism, adventured in the cities they toured through and focused on art when they weren’t making music.
Slowly he began to tire of not remembering as much of his life as he wanted to. People Ari had no memory of would come up to him as though they knew him. He got an STI without even knowing who it was from. He woke up in places he had never seen before. He destroyed things in his house and drove people away.
The catalyst came just before the band was put on hiatus and he was approached by an ex. Apparently during a drunken escapade he hadn’t used protection and had gotten the girl pregnant a few years ago. She’d had the baby and suddenly he was being asked if he wanted to be a father. He didn’t, of course, but he also didn’t want this to ever happen again.
Ari used the move to California as a chance to change everything. He swore he was going sober and wouldn’t return to the lifestyle he’d had before.
Now, freshly sober in California, he’s trying to figure out how to balance his new life. He’s still adventuring but it looks different without drinking. He isn’t sure if he likes it or not.
Personality -
“Ari is a rollercoaster. It could get exhausting except you don’t see him that often since he’s dating half the town at any given time. But he’s a blast anyway, especially when he’s sober enough to know up from down. You will have the most wild dates with him but you’ll have the time of your life. He rented a barn once and hired a band so we could have a ‘good old fashioned barn dance’ because he’d just seen one in a movie. It was insane. Best date of my life. That’s why it’s such a shame that he drinks so much. When he’s sober or only tipsy he’s amazing but the more drunk he gets the more the shine wears away. We actually broke up because he punched a hole through a mirror once and cried that he hated how he looked. I just… couldn’t do that. I hate it but I couldn’t.” Jessica B, ex-girlfriend.
Ari is the pinnacle of a yes-man. He agrees to almost everything so long as no one is hurt and he seems very morally grey. So long as no one gets hurt he’s down to try anything. He is high energy and always seems super cheerful. Ari is the kind of person who draws others to him just by how cheery and upbeat he is.
Ari is a romantic at heart. He says he falls in love with everyone and it honestly feels true. He sees something beautiful in everyone he meets and so he always dates multiple people at a time. It helps that he needs company all the time or the negative emotions he’s pushed away since he was a teenager begin to come creeping up.
He can never let that creep up. When it does it overwhelms him and he feels as scared and as lost as he did the entire year following the crash. He doesn’t talk about those emotions and he definitely doesn’t acknowledge that anything is wrong even when it’s exhausting to keep the smile. He doesn’t want to validate them and make them real. Ari will do anything to keep himself from ever feeling that sad and broken again.
It’s part of why he’s such an adrenaline junkie. His thrill seeking is one of the things he’s most known for in his fame. He has an adventure list a mile wide with everything from “Show up at an airport and take the next flight wherever it goes” to “scattering change along the city streets for people to find.”
Hobbies:
Art. Ari loves abstractivism and unconventional art. One of his projects that he was working on before coming to Carmel was saving every bottle from every drink he had over the course of a year so he could display it as a piece. He wasn’t sure about the title for it yet.
Exploring
Going on dates and adventures
He really wants to get a normal job because he thinks it would be hilarious to, say, work at a deli or diner because he’s technically a rock star.
Health:
Ari has PTSD. He doesn’t acknowledge it but it definitely impacts his ability to exist normally. He’s terrified of cars (he still doesn’t drive but he claims it’s because he would rather just skateboard everywhere) and he acts more recklessly to try to distract from it.
Physically he’s actually pretty healthy (aside from his chronic exhaustion). He eats well and works out, now that he’s quit drinking (besides a few relapses here and there) he is largely a super healthy individual.
wanted connections
Partners!!!! Ari is pan and poly so he is down for however many partners he has at any given time. He loves going on dates and hooking up. The more the merrier as far as he’s concerned, too!
Baby-mama. Ari found out he got someone pregnant and it was the largest catalyst for sobriety. They have a rocky relationship regarding the child because Ari really doesn’t feel ready to be a dad but I’m open to if they’re civil or uncivil outside of that.
Confidant. Everyone needs someone they can trust. Even Ari, who’s close relationships never seem to get past sleeping together and casual dating. This can be a friend, a friend of a friend or even someone he’s sleeping with.
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pcttrailsidereader · 6 years ago
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Lighter and Smarter
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Every time I get ready to hit the trail I face the challenge of trying my best to pack lighter and smarter than the last time. I have had mixed results. Over the past fifteen or twenty years the ‘go lite’ movement has really taken off. Nowadays it seems that most of the people one meets on the trail are sharing base weights, and exchanging the various strategies that they have employed in the quest to go lighter and smarter.They do a lot more than saw off their toothbrush handles. 
There are some things that are difficult to impossible to work around in the effort to go light. For example, carrying enough water in dry areas or sections is a big consideration. One liter of water weighs about 2.5 pounds. Carrying three liters approaches eight pounds alone.
Stoves and fuel are another challenge. In the southern sections of the PCT I have met people who go ‘stoveless’. This takes on many forms and is a very individual decision. 
Clothing can be one more problem to solve. Rain gear or no rain gear? Boots or trail runners? One extra change or no extra change? You can see the path to lighter and smarter is marked by numerous questions and considerations.  
There are many keys to going lighter and smarter. First of all it is probably a pretty good idea to not pack when you are hungry. In addition to simply buying and assembling your food, get rid of the extra packaging. If you know how many calories you will actually eat, you can choose light but calorie dense foods that will help you reach that target daily caloric number. 
When I meet up with my hiking partners we determine what we have together that is redundant. Someone has the camera/phone, someone else the first aid kit, and someone else the stove, etc. Our group doubles or triples up on our personal items and to be honest that seems like a small sacrifice to me but for the casual observer may appear to be ridiculous. 
Over the years we have continually downsized our portions of bug dope, toothpaste, and medications. We use small canisters and plastic bags to reduce the size of things.We are continuously trying to carry less and it has been an ongoing evolution of sorts 
Multitasking  items is one more great strategy. Determining what can be used in more than one way is the epitome of efficiency. A pot can be a wash basin. A bandanna has multiple uses. Socks, in  a pinch, can be mittens. Some use their hiking poles as selfie sticks, just go to You Tube for the proof.
 We have yet to give up our tent. We did try a tarp but the combination of bugs, wind, and rain convinced us that wasn’t the best fit for us. Sure we could multitask our hiking poles to hold up that tarp but when the rain came there just wasn’t enough space in the middle where we all migrated to get out of the drops. The tarp has stayed home ever since but not for so many of our peers. 
With my partners, each of us usually carry a ‘spork’ as we need that and our own cup for breakfasts. Later in the day, we use our utensils to share a mutual bag of freeze dried something or other. Each of us also carry a journal  and something to read.Some people eliminate those items and do it all on an electronic device, reading, journalling, taking pictures, and for some, blogging.  
As for what to wear, well that is something that is as different as one mile can be from another along the PCT. I have to admit that hiking in the North Cascades has either prepared me for the worst or has just made me paranoid for all the worst case scenarios that can march through my head. Mostly I am cautious at best and in the very least would make a Boy Scout  proud. I am very prepared and my preparedness has plagued me as I have ventured beyond the North Cascades and tried hard to lighten my load and adjust to my new surroundings each time. 
In the early days the clothes I wore and packed were pretty good for being outdoors but they were heavy and bulky. Since that time, I have gotten so much better at choosing what I bring and wear. I have left my wool sweater and replaced it with a light down jacket. My army surplus trousers have been  replaced by shorts and a medium weight set of poly-pro long johns, my cotton t-shirt with a light poly-pro top. Needless to say I have reduced not only the number of clothing items I bring but the weight of each one too. Unlike some  ‘go lite’ people, I do carry more than one pair of socks and a few other items. Wherever we are we always carry raincoats, sleeping bags, and pads.
Knowing what you have and how to find it in the dark is the other challenge. Some people will mark things with glow-in-the-dark tape. I haven’t done that despite how good of an idea it is. Honestly, I am usually in my bag well before dark. I am not sure I would appreciate the tape as much as I appreciate the idea. I do carry a headlamp. Headlamps are a small sacrifice in weight and provide me that extra assurance I can find my hat if I get cold in the middle of the night or determine what is making that racket outside the tent.
There are any number of ways to hike lighter and smarter. If you have ideas that work for you and you would like to share them, we would be happy to share those here. Send us your ideas at [email protected]
The art, not to mention the challenges, of going lighter and smarter is an on going practice. As one experiences more of what nature and hiking/camping can throw at us we continually improve on picking and choosing better combinations of gear. There are many people with many specific ideas out there. You will find them blogging or on YouTube as well as writing in hiking magazines. Whatever your choices, going lighter and smarter can pay rich dividends while also creating unforeseen problems. It is probably best to ‘test drive’ your latest ideas before you set out to complete another section or thru hike many or all sections of the PCT.   
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iwantasecretgarden · 6 years ago
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Dear Misty,
@mercedeslackeyblog​ - please print this for her in the hospital! I want her to know we all love her and are rooting for her.
You have been one of the icons in my life for as long as I’ve been reading. Seriously. I picked up “Arrows of the Queen” when I was twelve and fell dizzyingly in love. So in love, in fact, that my father bought me the set of them leatherbound. It was one of the last things he ever bought me. They sit on my shelf with me wherever I move to (and I have moved a lot). They are the epitome of my childhood.
How do I even begin to explain what you have meant to me? I wrote you a fan letter in my teens, but I don’t think it ever reached you. Websites were less...polished then. I tried to find a copy to see what I had said, but I don’t have it anymore, so I’ll write this from scratch.
First off, for someone growing up in the 90s, sexuality was a difficult topic. My father was Catholic about it. My mother was liberal about acceptance, but not very liberal about giving us the tools to recognize it. I didn’t really accept the fact I was bi until I was 26 (last year). It was an embarrassing realization, because I had always been conditioned to already think women were interesting and cool and beautiful. But I honestly and truly believe one of the reasons I grew up being so tolerant of sexuality wasn’t my mother’s liberal attitude, but because of the fantasy I read, which didn’t use sexuality as a dramatic plot device. Your books, especially, in depicting queer relationships, poly relationships, and interracial relationships in such an ordinary light, in such a non-complaining, non special, non interesting way (as it should be!) that to me it became ordinary. I didn’t understand the big fuss when people started coming out in eighth and ninth grade. Well of course Brett could like boys. Silverfox did, and he’s one of my favorite characters, a fictional hero who I use to help combat my own anxiety and work through impossible situations. I didn’t understand why liking girls was so shocking. Keren was the impossibly cooler most perfect big sister/coach figure. I was into horse back riding until 16 (when, unfortunately, my horse died). Keren has a lot of the surly riding instructor in her, and it was a far more interesting aspect of her personality than her relationship with Sheri. Keren had even assured Sheri she would have been welcome as their third. As a kid, it hadn’t even occurred to me to make an argument against it. I - Talia’s age - agreed with her. When life gives you child brides and weird cult compounds, it’s better to find love where you can. Genuine love. Regardless of anything else.
Secondly, it was a book I needed when I didn’t know I would need it. A lot of fiction - especially geared at children - skates lightly over topics of depression, anxiety, and loss. Don’t get me wrong, I love Harry Potter with my soul. But even at the age I read it I felt the shallowness of their reactions when Sirius died. I felt my own reaction even crying while reading the book to be stronger. It would infuriate me that the next book they sort of conveniently forgot it had only been a few weeks/months. That Harry was “sad but manageable.” For context, my dad contracted Lou Gehrig’s disease at 44. They told him he had likely already had the disease 10 years. He lost everything; his temper, his dignity, bits of his mind at a time. Any filter between his brain and his mouth. His fine motor control, like holding a spoon. His major motor control, like being able to stand up. He was in a powerchair within the year. As the oldest daughter, it was expected that I would help turn him, change his catheter, and answer his shrill screams in the night. I was fourteen years old. 
Dad and I were inseparable. Father-daughter relationship compounded by the fact he had, in essence with a flexible work schedule, been a stay at home dad. He had been my primary caregiver, my confidante, my chef, my advisor, my everything. And now I was his punching bag as he lost a bit of himself at a time. “My friend, who’s a psychiatrist,” Mom always said it this way, to make sure we knew she wasn’t so weak as to need therapy. A challenge to dare us to say we did. “He says that he’s hardest on you, because he’s most assured of your love. That he can abuse you and scream at you and curse at you because he knows you’ll go back the next day. A moth to a flame.” And me staring blankly at her: “Of course I will.” Because even if it was my worst fear - it was, always had been - even if it hurt worse than I could have ever imagined - his death would have broken me, but only in half. His suffering crushed the pieces of me into dust and left me a gaping black thing sucking in the world - “I love him too much to miss a moment of this.” Even if every minute - every possible second - was me reminding myself I had to breathe and feeling my lungs on fire, my head was on the edge of a migraine, it was impossible to interact, but I had to. I had to smile. To go to high school. To turn in assignments on time regardless of the cost between going to bed at 2 and hearing him scream at 3. 
Your books, though, weren’t fake. I held onto them with the assurance of that one quote: life is the scream into the void; art is the answer you are not alone. I held onto the depression and grief and trauma of your characters and felt sane. If I hadn’t, I might have thought I was losing my mind. I was, of course. And I had been conditioned Catholically to think of mental health as a weakness, a secret shame. I had been told by my mother psychologists and medication were wonderful advancements for those people; sick people. Sick in their mind, she would say smugly. Her adamant assurance was: “We have to go on like usual. We can’t let people know we’re struggling.” And so we did. Social events. Big smiles. Sleepovers (somewhere else, my friends explained, your dad bums us out). People didn’t find out he was dying until prom of my senior year. I was on the receiving end of a lot of horror from teachers (why didn’t you tell us? Ask for an extension?) I had to be normal I wanted to tell them, but I didn’t even know how to begin to explain.
Once a pediatrician told my mom I was deeply angry and tired; I was losing my father. I was fifteen. I needed to see a counselor. My mom went ballistic in a public waiting room. She aggressively turned to me and asked if this was true? There was no chance, of course, for me to disagree. I didn’t even want to. My loyalty to my family was (is) so strong that seeing anyone upset her so badly had put my back against the wall and made me bare my teeth. I reflect a lot on it now; how poorly that doctor handled it, the way she would have bungled it much worse if it had been physical abuse. You never confront the person in front of the child. Never don’t have a safety plan in place. 
“She said you were so young,” my mother snarled on the way home. “When we both know you haven’t been young in years. I watched you. Watched you go from fifteen to twenty in months instead of years. Don’t you think?”
I could only nod, and when I covered my mouth, fingertips touched wet skin. I hadn’t been young in years. 
Darkwind was someone I identified heavily with. Someone who changed his name, cut his hair, let his grief consume him. Someone who shied away from Silverfox’s help. Someone who was glad when his father still got some. The day of my dad’s funeral, I cut off my hair. I was 19. The nightmare had lasted five years. I had stayed home to go to a local college so I could keep living at home, keep shielding my younger sisters, keep driving them to school and viola practice and karate. I had to give up my extracurriculars early on (and lie, of course, on my applications). It was actually a disaster at the hair cutting place (not important, but the lady called the police thinking I had stolen her cell phone which had fallen behind some tools). I went home. My mother took one look at my hair and told me it made my face look fat. “It’s for Dad,” I said steadily. In my mind, I was howling like Darkwind. I wondered if I could break my name into grief and sorrow, but it was too hard to think of the name I might have been, since the person I had been was as dead as dad was. 
On days where my two younger sisters were scared and confused (the youngest was 13 when he died), I read them The Fairy Godmother and One Good Knight. They liked that one especially well. I went on to absorb almost all of your works (I think it’s impossible though, to be honest. There are just so many that either you’re a witch or I keep reading the same ones again and thinking I’ve never read them. For instance, I have a Bard Song on my nightstand right now from a bargain bin. Never read it before. Recently read Four and Twenty Blackbirds). Of course, my favorite series was Valdemar. I know all those characters the best, having reread most of them over again several times. I liked Elemental Masters, 700 Kingdoms (some). I was sad that the Beauty & the Beast stories in both weren’t my favorites (The Fire Rose, Beauty and the Werewolf, since it’s my favorite Disney film (but as your stories follow the traditional fairytale a little closer, and that tale is a bit gross, I understand). I think my favorites were The Firebird, Phoenix and Ashes, Reserved from the Cat, The Wizard of London).
Honestly, I may be a tiny minority, but I ADORE Joust. I was sad there weren’t more of them. I spent much of the time I read them inventing my own dragon egg, my own falling through time and space. My own female girl rider takes on the Team without being just a sidekick who talked to animals. It is hard to recommend or talk about it without people laughing, and I appreciate it IS an incredibly hard-core nerd fantasy genre (ancient Egypt, jousting, dragons). It feels a lot like Anne McCaffery crossed with a Naomi Novik story (since Temeraire and Napoleonic Wars are equally hard-core nerd stories. I was lucky to stumble on that line recently - I feel like there’s not enough of the true blue 80s/90s fantasy voice anymore. Sometimes it feels all too dark and plot driven, lacking the characters and slice of life that your works have nestled in my heart, places like the Palace Compound that I know as well as I knew my middle and high schools. A place as real to me as they are, including my own room. My own Companion. My own Heraldic Whites when I turned 18 and took the leatherbound books from my father in an eyestinging rush of love. 
Even now when I was looking up a list of your work, I’m amazed and appalled to see I haven’t caught any of your works since 2009 or so. HOW MANY ARE THERE 100? 200? I thought there were 70 something, but no, you’ve far outstripped yourself. I usually pick up the books in secondhand shops. I’ll go straight for “L” and then just tip all of them into my arms if I haven’t read them. It’s one of my favorite rainyday activities. I noticed you even have a book out this year! CRAP! It should not be POSSIBLE you can write faster than I can read! I’m 27 and I still read a lot of the books that came out when I was born or in diapers. Sometimes I wonder which books you’ve written are your favorites. If there are books you’ve written you skim through like “hmmm I don’t even remember this” and read it with the same laughing intensity as the rest of us, resting your thumb on “oh yes, this was when I was...”
Anyway. I know this letter is long. You’ve been a saint for even getting this far. So let me say this. When I think of the BEST writers of fantasy in the 20th and 21st centuries, your name is among the greats. I’ll say something like: Anne McCaffery’s Dragonriders of Pern; Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game; Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time; Mercedes Lackey’s Valdemar...and EVERYTHING ELSE. A lot more people know the names of George R.R. Martin, of J.K. Rowling, of Neil Gaiman. But none of them have put out the solid, unending stream of work that literally POPULATES what most people consider “fantasy.” Your ideas, your work, your world-building influence television, influence Dungeons & Dragons, other works. You are a Giant in your field, and even if you don’t feel it, you have laid the groundwork for an entire generation to lay themselves reverently on the altar of your sacrifice, your reflection of relationships, and taught young girls like me what it was to embrace themselves, in all shapes - black tar and bi pride. 
I know you probably tire of hearing this, but I want to be an author. And I’m a good writer. I don’t say it boastfully. I say it as something I’ve always heard, from teachers and friends and magazines. But mom said being an author was like being an actor - a pipe dream, a thing to do “on the side” and “as a hobby.” And it is a hobby of mine, for now. I did the Responsible Thing and became a lawyer. It was quite horrible. But I did it. For Dad, you know. Legacy and all that. 
But don’t you DARE die before I’m published. I’m not talking about the hospital right now. I’m talking about choking on a banana; slipping on the sidewalk; getting mobbed by adoring fans. It is literally my bucketlist to publish a book, to meet you, to dedicate the book to a woman who I’ve never met, who I’ve never known, but who had influenced and impacted my life SO profoundly I consider her characters as pieces of myself. Her worlds as places of safety when I’m sad. The helping hand she held out to a twelve year old girl, and fifteen years later the one I’m still gripping tightly. 
YOU are one of the best women in my life, and one of the best role models I’ve ever known. Even if we’ve never met, knowing that you could be a deeply nerdy human who loves horses and magic and reading every day and still be “successful” when the world outside told me I dressed wrong and looked wrong and felt wrong. That I needed to pick up a magazine, or watch sitcoms, or generally stop making them feel pitying and uncomfortable because of the things I liked. You made me proud to be a feminist, an ally, a writer, a dreamer, a reader, and maybe only lately of my sexuality, but still growing and going forward. 
So, here’s lots of love and adoration and gratitude flooding your way from:
One herald (whose companion was someone she knew in real life reincarnated too early, obviously grove born, with mindspeech, with magic, of course and lifebonded with a Kestra'chern. Predictably, I fought the lifebonding every step of the way, and consider him a great nuisance).
One dragon rider in the jousting wars (with a dragon named Altaira (high flying) who is such a deep dark color she seems black but ripples cobalt and violet).
One grateful apprentice to the Fairy Godmother, who herself was saved from one of a great many plots by the impetus of her father’s illness/death.
And of course, from one persnickety lawyer in DC, drowning in student loan debt and of course too many books, one cat too pretty to be a boy named Gandalf, and his Greyhounds (yes, two, who are very lowkey and I think you would like. They’re like large sleeping cats more than dogs, but very friendly with horses). Of course I named the cat Gandalf simply for the introduction of “Gandalf, the Greyhounds.” Originally I wanted to name a dog “Gandalf...the Greyhound” but because of who I am I went to the shelter and asked for the dog least likely to get adopted and sort of came out with a bonded pair and then it seemed they needed twin names so they’re named Fred & George after Harry Potter. 
But rambling aside, I adore you. I adore your books. I adore the world you’ve given freely for us to play in. Get well soon, and lots, lots, and lots of love. I’ll be playing in my worlds today especially a lot, thinking of you.
All the best,
Kaylee
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rairun · 7 years ago
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It's been over a year since I came out as bisexual, and it's been so interesting to catch myself recasting old stories and adjusting my understanding of my formative experiences based on the fact that I am queer. Sometimes it feels almost too neat, and I worry that I'm deliberately making connections that maybe I shouldn't be making - maybe my history is more fragmented, maybe it should read less like a narrative and more like a disparate collection of incidents. But then again that's what being human is always like. We tell stories. We try to make sense of things. This is what we do.
Coming out as bi has been important to me for two reasons - first because "straight" hasn't been a good description for my feelings since at least my early twenties. I was tired of defaulting to straight simply because it was the default; I was tired of questioning whether I was gay enough, of worrying I would become an appropriative asshole if I identified as bi (as bi people are wont to do). The other reason coming out has been important to me was that it made me feel welcome under the queer umbrella, and suddenly so many queer things about myself found themselves a home.
Last night I found an "It gets better" video that I watched seven years ago. As of November 2017, it only has 600~ views, but it is by far the one that touched me the most. I was twenty-six at the time. I hadn't been bullied in what, nine years? And I had survived. Things were better in many ways. But I still felt so fundamentally alone. I knew like-minded people existed - I'd met a couple who had changed my life -  but by my mid-twenties they seemed like such a miracle, and so impossibly rare. I didn't think of myself as queer at the time, but Alicia's words - and her soft-spokenness, and her gentle-yet-resilient tone -  made me feel like she was speaking to me.
And yet she was not. Because I wasn't queer, or I didn't know I was queer. I didn't resent being excluded from the club because I'd never stopped to consider I might belong there. When I watched Alicia's video, I cried because I felt those people were my brother and sisters, and I wished them happiness and a place in the world, even if their place was not my place (it was, but I didn't know that). I felt left behind like all the queer people who never got the chance to see things get better.
Now, when I look back on my experiences as a teenager, it all seems so clear: they did all those things to me because I was queer. That's the simple truth of the matter. Saying this feels like fitting the last piece of a puzzle. It gives name to a reality I understood but had no way of expressing without taking my time to describe each individual piece and its relationship with the others. Now I take a step back and suddenly the whole picture emerges.
What makes me wonder if I'm being simplistic is that I know they didn't do those things to me because I was bi. They didn't know I was bi. As a teen, I didn't know I was bi either. And I didn't look or sound gay enough for them to seriously think I was the Portuguese equivalent of a "fag".
Their go-to insult was "nerd", among other similar words. But I was clearly not singled out for my interests - half the kids who harassed me daily were Magic: the Gathering-playing nerds. They also used some really ableist language (because I have a minor chest deformity), enough to have left me with a wonky body image probably forever; but objectively, my chest didn't make me disabled, and I doubt they'd have picked up on it if I weren't a target for other reasons.
The types of abuse weren’t always the same (insults, physical violence, sexual harassment at least once, abusive “friendships” where I was always deliberately reminded of my lower standing), and it wasn’t always possible to draw a straight line between them and my queerness. But it was very clear I was a target because I didn’t take part in the whole business of growing up as a cishet guy.
I remember liking another "it gets better video" in 2010 - I think it was Hal Duncan's. At some point he says, "You only have to walk past a group of people laughing to tense, to shrink into yourself in shame and fear, because they've ground you down to the point where you associate the very sound of human joy with your humiliation." And this is such an accurate description of my own experiences that together with everything else, it's very hard not to conclude that I was a target because I was queer.
Queer. Again, not bi. They didn't know I was bi. It all came down to me not doing sexuality as a straight boy should - they just didn't have a name for it. I remember some of the other "nerds" were given a hard time too, and they mostly wished they were popular. Many had a proto-MRA mentality that made them feel wronged because girls wouldn't give them a chance. I just wanted to be allowed not to want any of that in peace, and it seemed like I was the only person who felt this way.
I could talk about some of this in terms of genderqueerness too. I don't overtly identify as non-binary, and masculine pronouns are generally OK by me, but I won't say you are wrong if you think of me as non-binary. I guess gender could give me a "legitimate" outlet to think of myself as queer too. But if I were to be even more specific, I'd say a lot of my early experiences fall under the aro/ace categories; a lot of my struggles had to do not exactly with shunning intimacy, but with being very uncomfortable with the ways our society structures sexual and romantic relationships.
The other day I felt a bit disheartened by all the derisive comments on the "Is There Something Queer About Being Single?" article in the NYT. I mean - no, of course simply being single doesn't make anyone queer. The derisiveness got to me though, and trust me, I can relate to the fear of queerness becoming meaningless if everything is considered queer - we'd lose the word and the unity it brings, but the world would still uphold all its discriminatory structures. But you know, maybe there is something queer about eschewing traditional couplehood, or even couplehood altogether. Maybe there is something queer and disruptive not only in wanting sex with the "wrong" people, but also in wanting it differently. Maybe there is something queer about searching for a different way to love and live.
I'm bi. Despite all the biphobia that still exists, I'm "allowed" to be here.
But what if I were not?
I think people can be too quick to bring up the cases that are most easily dismissed - so is this straight white dude queer now because he likes to be choked in bed? Is that guy over there really supposed to be queer because he has sex with a different woman every day and calls himself poly? And they forget that there are so many kids and adults out there with much more complicated histories, who have struggled with their sense of identity and their place in the world for so long, and still haven't found it. If someone hears the word "queer" and it stirs something up inside them that they can't even explain, if it speaks to them like nothing else has, are we supposed to act as gatekeepers and tell them no?
Are we really supposed to turn them away because a couple of assholes think being queer is a fashion accessory? And who is to say who is who? Until very recently, I was one of those people who felt lost and alone and like they didn’t belong anywhere. I spent all of my twenties in that place, and maybe things could have been different. Maybe they can be different for others still.
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calix-daesyn · 8 years ago
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Thank You All So Much
Calix Daesyn: 400 Followers
Lotus-of-Noxus: 460 Followers
I remember when I first came to the tumblr rp community a little over two years ago. I had no idea how to get started. However, I had been reading a lot of stuff by @prodigal-ezreal and their RP partners and I missed roleplaying so badly that I knew I wanted to jump in. I couldn’t decide who to play though: I had never played canon characters in any rp - and while I thought about trying my hand at Ezreal I just wasn’t sure. So, I made Calix. And he has evolved a HELL of a lot since then. 
It has been a bit rough getting into rp, I’ll admit. When I first made Calix I decided to try and take the advice of a lot of people and just start sending things out. About 80% of those were never answered or I received a ‘sorry I don’t rp with OC’s’ or jus t ‘no’. But some people answered and we soon started having a great time.
A lot of people I started RPing with just aren’t really around any more. Like @cutthroat-diplomacy who was my first SERIOUS ship (with poly allowances of course) for Calix and a great RP partner. @axesrevolution has always been wonderful and a great friend for Calix @timeforatruedisplayofskill helped me get into RP so much, welcoming me readily. @soulreaverdraven did the same and answered my asks and helped boost my confidence early. @spirit-of-an-exile I’ve seen more recently, but not as much - but still her riven mama was the guidance Calix needed and often ignored and got in trouble anyway but she would still sigh and call him bambi and pat his head. Someone who I’ve seen around more recently, but still not much: @the-malevolent-rose I loooove all your interactions with poor Calix. He may have danger kink and monster boyfriends but even he stays ten feet away from Rose when he can. Like I said, they aren’t really around any more, but I’m still so grateful. And there are a ton more I haven’t mentioned. I don’t want this to become a huge wall, just everyone know how much I appreciate everything. 
Now on to some people I interact with today all the time:
@uncle-touchy-lich You are such an amazing writer, artist, rp partner, and friend. I can’t express how happy I am that we clicked. I started following you and was so amazed by your Karthus and wanted so badly to RP with you that I reached out cautiously expecting kind refusal and instead I found someone who was excited to rp with me. I couldn’t believe someone with such a great muse and such great ideas thought my writing and my character were compelling. I’m so happy we started RPing and even happier we started to talk as friends. I adore you and your lich and all your work and characters and I hope we can continue being buddehs for a long time.
@thelanternwretch You are so fkn awesome bruh. Starting with your character and your RP - I LOVE EVERY BIT OF IT. Every dark twisted thing, every vodka thresh moment, every truly horrible villainous thing Thresh says, all of your history and your writing - I just love it. And you the mun are an amazing, sweet, beautifully twisted humor-having person. I really do consider you a friend and I am amazed that you like writing with and talking with me and I thank you so much for the interactions and for just talking to me.
@thecrimsonexecutioner Bab I know you feel insecure about some stuff some times but let me be the tell you that you are AMAZING. Your art is SO GOOD. Your characters are SO GOOD. I love writing with you and talking with you. You are awesome and your muses are fantastic. <3
@cervantestheferryman Dude bro bruh friendo you are a cool ass muthamuffin and I’m glad to see you back and active again. You’re great to rp with, great to build characters and AU’s with, and great for a fun time. Thanks for taking an interest in my bb’s and giving them good bruises.
@thefallenstarchild We don’t really RP, but I just want to note how much I love your Soraka and your art and just how sweet you are. Every time you answer something from Calix it makes me smile so much. <3
@definitely-not-altair You are one cool dude!!! I love watching your streams and reading what you do with Talon. Thank you for ever answering anything I send you from my Kat you are an angel. I really adore your writing and your art and we don’t talk or RP much, but I really appreciate that you put up with me at all lol.
@ace-of-spades-ezreal OOOAH YOUR BOY IS SO GOOD KAT WANTS DAT - ahem. Anyhow. I love your art, your writing, your character and I love every interaction between Ace and Kat - just so so so very good. And I love reading your interactions, your character building, just so much. You are one shiny muffin, acey.
@hook-and-chains Bab you are lovely!! <3 We don’t talk as much but I love your Threshie and adore seeing you on my dash!! <3
@morose-deserter You are such a sweetie and so is your Seryn bab and I loooove talking with you - in RP, in messenger, just everywhere. You are so great <3
@cup-cait Thank you so much for all the entertainment and for trying to keep Kat in line keep trying I believe in you bab. <3
Anyhow I should probably stop there before I take up everyone’s dashes completely. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to everyone I want to thank, but please know that I appreciate you all so much and I just love that anyone follows me at all. When I started Calix I couldn’t believe I had twenty followers - and now I have twenty times that. 
Thank you - so very much.
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dangan-aesthetic · 8 years ago
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im not sure if this counts as a request or not and you can absolutely delete it if it does but... if im not mistaken mod twogami has a fondness for broadway so... could they recommend any shows? i've been trying to get into more shows and such...!
It doesn’t count as a request! don’t worry, you’re fine! oh my gosh though I love Broadway SO MUCH I am SO HAPPY to make a list for you I LOVE talking about stuff I like! 
one warning I should maybe give is that I tend to be more into modern musical theater, so the majority of shows I really like are from after like 2000 if that’s okay with you. I’d be happy to recommend some older stuff if you’d prefer, I’m just not as knowledgable about it. another warning: I am incapable of brevity. this list is way too long… i’m so fuckin sorry… i’m really really sorry. 
comedy:
♡ the producers (2001). the show that really got me into musical theater. it also won more tony awards than any show, ever. about two broadway producers who try to create the worst musical ever, ergo hilarity ensues. maybe not the best pick if you’re uncomfortable with content that makes fun of nazis, but if it helps, the writer is jewish (and I’m jewish and don’t have a problem with it). there’s also some adorable gays, and a movie version that’s very faithful to the show, so that’s nice. you want the 2005 movie if you want songs (the 1968 movie isn’t a musical). also, if you like this, young frankenstein is a great show by the same creators with a similar sense of humor.
♡ the book of mormon (2010).two mormon missionaries go to uganda. absolutely hilarious. pretty crass though, and i’m sure problematic as hell (by the creators of south park, if that’s any indication), so be warned. but it’s just… such a fun time.
♡ a gentleman’s guide to love and murder (2014).a rare musical comedy that’s actually not that crass. about a man in edwardian england who learns he’s ninth in line to inherit an earldom, so he kills everyone in his way to the position. actually a very lighthearted comedy. bonus points for a love triangle that turns into a really cute poly triad.
♡ avenue q (2003).sesame street, but about issues faced by people in their mid-twenties: a kindergarten teacher tries to snag a boyfriend, a recent college grad tries to find his purpose, a gay republican struggles to come out of the closet, gary coleman is just kind of there. song titles include “the internet is for porn” and “everyone’s a little bit racist.” puppet sex. a good time.
♡ a funny thing happened on the way to the forum (1962).slapsticky, very clever, hilarious if you like roman history, funny even if you don’t. about a roman slave who wants to earn his freedom, his young master falling in love for the first time, pirates, soldiers, sex workers, a lot of stuff. the movie is very good. I’m also partial to the 1996 cast album because I love Nathan Lane.
drama:
♡ sweeney todd (1979).just… a masterpiece of a musical score tbh. about a barber who seeks revenge for his tortured past. people get baked into pies. if you haven’t noticed, i really like musicals that make light of murder (although i’m guessing you like funny media about murder too, since you came to a danganronpa blog to ask this?). funny, moving, dark, creepy, powerful. I’ve never actually seen the movie and don’t really recommend it from what I’ve heard, but a production of the show is on DVD with most of the original cast, and it’s definitely worth a watch. also, if you like this, i recommend p much anything stephen sondheim’s ever written. he’s a genius.
♡ spring awakening (2007).takes place in the late 19th century, but is very, very relevant to issues kids face today. covers stuff like the importance of sexual education, child abuse, the pressure placed on kids by school, and the confusion teenagers go through when discovering sexual desire. very heavy, but very beautiful (note: this is maybe the musical I know that is the most difficult to get a sense of the plot by just listening to the score, so I’d recommend maybe reading a plot summary or watching a bootleg or something. there was a cool production last year where a lot of the cast was deaf and it was bilingual in english and asl! idk if there’s a bootleg of that anywhere, but it was a good time). tw for rape, suicide, abortion, child abuse… yeah, it’s dark.
♡ next to normal (2009).about a family dealing with their mom’s mental illness, and covers stuff like how her life is affected by her illness, how fucked up the process of getting treatment is, and how mental illness affects her relationship with the people around her. I find it very realistic, very moving, and very relatable. of course tw for mental illness and suicide. i am dan goodman.
♡ natasha, pierre, and the great comet of 1812 (2012).just reopened on broadway! based on part of war and peace, so you’ll know the plot of war and peace and look really smart. about a woman who gets swept up in an affair while her husband is at war in 19th century russia. the plot isn’t really what’s interesting so much as the gorgeous musical score and really cool things they did with the staging / mixing the 19th century and the modern day.
stuff that’s a mix of the two genres:
♡ the frogs (2004).a comedy that gets more and more serious until it’s… not really a comedy anymore. dionysus and his slave go to the underworld to bring back george bernard shaw and make the world right again. shakespeare is there. hades is gay. was on broadway for all of like four months and is pretty damn obscure, but it’s SO GOOD, I promise.
♡ heathers: the musical (2014).another comedic musical about murder. I love comedies about murder. a girl befriends her high school’s popular clique and gets a sort of fucked up boyfriend. shit goes down. I feel like it does a very good job of representing what high school is really like (my high school experience, anyway), and is a good mix of funny and serious. heavy tw for suicide and mental illness (and briefly for eating disorders, but it’s just a couple of comments).
♡ matilda the musical (2010).based on the roald dahl book! about a little girl who is extremely intelligent, but is surrounded by neglectful parents and an abusive headmaster – so she fights back against them. what a genuinely fun, heartfelt time. great lyrics, super creative, and has a scene where someone eats a whole cake, which is always a plus and very relatable (note: im twogami, what were you expecting). tw for child abuse, but the musical is meant for kids, so it’s not very graphic.
♡ my fair lady (1957).thought maybe I should throw in some older stuff as well. early 1900s england, an upper class linguist asshole tries to turn a lower class flower seller into a “lady.” the movie is very, very good. is based on a very feminist play but was made into a slightly misogynistic romance for hollywood, so I’d recommend reading pygmalion if you’re unsatisfied with the ending (but it’s not like the movie doesn’t do its fair share of calling out higgins’s misogyny).
♡ 1776 (1969).also has a very good movie. about the founding fathers and the signing of the declaration of independence. maybe don’t watch this if you’re mad that hamilton is glorifying slave owners (note: I like hamilton, but I didn’t put it on this list because I’m kind of tired of it by now, and anyway I’m sure you know about it). a very good mix of funny and historically accurate. 
anyway I hope you enjoy this list and can forgive me for… info dumping rlly heavily on u… love u, hope ur havin a good day, thanks for letting me talk about this. tell me if you end up checking out any of these shows and liking them! - Mod Twogami
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ah17hh · 4 years ago
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I can't escape the desire for polyam life via /r/polyamory
I can't escape the desire for polyam life
I'm (pan 30F) unable to let go of the idea of becoming polyam. Deep down I know if I don't live my truth, I will regret it.
In have been married to my husband for 8 years and with him monogamously since I was 18 (only sexual partner ever). We get along amazingly. He's my best friend and a good lover. But for me, it's suffocating to think that I will never have sex with or be able to love anyone else.
I have always had a lot of crushes and this obviously doesn't stop for a married person. It's torture to think I will continue my whole life to crush on people I can't persue.
When I was in my early twenties just married I brought up polyamory (we had mutual poly friends) but he was not interested and very hurt because I was the only one he wanted. I tried pushing my feelings down. We had a hard time for months after that but I never brought it up. Eventually I found out he was trading sexually explicit messages with someone else and I was so hurt. He could have told me he had feelings for someone but he hid it instead. Somehow we moved on from that betrayal but it messed me up for a while. I figured I maybe deserved it for hurting him before.
In the time since then we came close once to a foursome and he had no problem with me making out with another woman. He's seen me flirt with other people and never has been hurt by it.
My desires since when I first told him I was interested in poly haven't changed but they recently flared up due to an new attraction I have to someone and I can't imagine going another decade feeling like this inside and not being able to explore it. Even if my current flame isn't going to go anywhere what about the next one or the one after that. I'm not getting any younger and I want to experience more.
What go I do? I need to breathe but I don't want to throw a grenade on my life. I have a mortgage and a kid.
Submitted August 24, 2020 at 02:49PM by cautious_angostera via reddit https://ift.tt/2YuN8XP
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gaiatheorist · 6 years ago
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Delusions of good-enough.
Last week’s ‘Jagged Little Pill’-is-bad blog didn’t happen, I’d started retrospectively analysing the lyrics that resonated ‘then’, from a perspective of ‘now’. ‘Jagged Little HRT-patch’ if you will, reflecting that the words haven’t changed, we have, in the 20+ years since the album. (For what it’s worth, I think it’s a good album, there’s still a bit of the flailing-stomping-non-mainstream about me.) 
@samdylanfinch was re-tweeted into my Twitter timeline, and another piece of the jigsaw-that-is-me almost, but not quite fitted into position. (It’s a million piece jigsaw, it’s all sky, I’m trying to complete it in the dark, during a hurricane, and I’m wearing boxing gloves... I’m on a waiting list for therapy.) I’ve accepted for a very long time that I have a tendency to push people away, and always assumed it was a protective mechanism. The faux-bravado, styling myself as a heartless bitch who just doesn’t ‘need’ friends, or relationships is entrenched. I joke about my reverse-Midas touch being why I don’t engage with very many people. I deliberately distance, I deliberately disturb and disgust, to keep most-people at arms length. I don’t ‘get’ people, a lot of ‘me’ was very atypical even before the brain injuries, always-outsider, never quite ‘fitting’, so I just stopped trying after a while. 
I need to watch myself not to go off on the “Am I Frankenstein, or the creature?” slant again, whatever I am, I just ‘am’, potentially some of it can be unpicked and re-learned, some of it I might just have to live with, and work around.
I’m ‘doing it’ now, one of my behaviours, my superiority complex. I read the whole thread, about some damaged-people running from relationships, and I identified heavily with that. Then Little Miss Twist decided to show her hand, and I had a brief, but intense period of “No, I don’t, I’m better than that!” in relation to the ‘pleasing’ element. There is no ‘better’ here, it’s just a shade of different, I don’t approval-seek in the same way as ‘most’ people, and I can be very prickly about the ways some-people do it. That’s unkind, so I try to ‘catch myself’ before I start arguments. You wouldn’t believe how much of my waking hours are spent distracting and deflecting myself from starting arguments about things that happened decades ago. (Seriously, I’ve had one bubbling up for weeks about a family member who didn’t vaccinate her kids against MMR, twenty years ago.) I’m not withholding that argument to avoid upsetting her, I’m sitting on it because there’s no need for it, it would achieve nothing.
The adorable counsellor, who saw me for 16 sessions, when he was only supposed to allocate six, periodically asked me “Are you a bit of a people-pleaser?”, and it made me bristle. I can see his logic now, in light of the Twitter thread, but then, I misconstrued the phrase as ‘door-mat’, and absolutely denied it. I had been a door-mat, for far too long, with the ex, and to some extent with my last job. With the ex, it was path-of-least-resistance, the things he’d tantrum-smash were always mine, it was a preservation-behaviour. With work, I continued to absorb more and more workload, refining systems and processes to make them more effective, thinking I’d matter-more. I was approval-seeking right up until the last minute, making sure everything was as in-order as it could be before I left, because I didn’t want colleagues to think badly of me. That’s my ‘different’ door-mat behaviour I don’t sulk for weeks if nobody notices my new hair-do, and, while I do have intense periods of over-thinking whether I might have upset some-people, I’m not overly-concerned about being ‘liked.’ My people-pleasing is generally trying to help more than I harm, and usually dumping myself at the bottom of the priority-list in the process. 
It’s a learned behaviour, some of it is useful, some of it less-so. My Adverse Childhood Experiences led to me developing some entirely understandable hyper-vigilance and risk-mapping analytical behaviours. In the last mental health assessment, I referred to myself as ‘a machine’, ‘a robot’ and ‘a computer’, and I’m snort-laughing at myself for being ridiculous, I’m a human being, it’s just difficult to articulate the tangential-triage processes of my brain. ‘Over-thinking’ doesn’t even touch on it, I don’t feel safe unless I’ve considered every possible outcome (usually some improbable ones, too) to a decision, which is bizarre, given my tendency to make incredibly unwise decisions when I’m less-lucid. 
That’s the foundation of it, for me, the disordered thinking is rooted in not being safe, so building in these weird coping strategies, to make me feel ‘safer’, more ‘in control.’ Also to ‘please’ people, with my “I’ve already done it.” and “I’ve made it better.” behaviours. Back to being a show-off, and a try-hard, neither of which are particularly admirable behaviours. I don’t want to be ‘pretty’ or ‘feminine’, those signal-danger for me, so I don’t seek vanity-validation, and I do allow myself to become far too annoyed when I see other people doing it. I don’t want to be perceived as weak, or vulnerable, and I scare the shit out of people ‘proving myself’. (There are two text conversations on my phone, my son very gently telling me that if I wait until he’s home from Uni he’ll help me erect my poly-tunnel, and a jokey one from a friend suggesting I might not have thought to secure the cover, in case of high winds ‘because you’re a woman’. The poly-tunnel is up, very well secured, and I ‘beat’ the average time to build it quoted on the reviews. Show-off.) That’s knowing that I am both weak and vulnerable, entrenched by being conditioned-female, never-quite-enough, and then over-layered with 20+ years of the ex, and Father-in-law telling me what I couldn’t-do. I’m never going to be ‘pretty’ or ‘strong’, so I chose to be ‘intelligent’ instead. Then I had a brain haemorrhage, which has significantly impacted on some of my cognitive functioning. 
I have two simultaneous ear-worms, the ‘Daddy never came to my ball games’ at the end of Tim Minchin’s ‘Dark Side’, and snatches of Alanis Morissette’s ‘Perfect.’ My ‘Historical and Complicating Factors’ are rooted in dysfunctional early attachment, over-layered with significant abuse. My parents were profoundly unstable people, both prone to outbursts of violence, there is no ‘safe place’ when you’re never sure which one of them is going to hit you next, but bruises fade in time. The emotional aspects of that, and various other elements of my childhood are more difficult to overcome. There was no trust, ever, the people who were supposed to keep me safe didn’t, and compounded that by continually reminding me that I wasn’t good enough. If I scored 9/10 on a test, Dad would ask me what I’d gotten wrong, rather than congratulate me for trying. Mum would fly into physically abusive rages, and blame-shift that *everything* was my fault. (Yes, I did throw out “I didn’t ASK to be born!” a few times, then I just stopped reacting when she hit me, useless talent number-whatever, both in terms of taking showers of punches without flinching, and being able to split up bar-fights, bruises fade in time.) 
It was predictable, coming from that background, that I’d be vulnerable to further abuse-of-power relationships, the boyfriend-before-the-ex was a very damaged creature, who became physically abusive. The first time he hit me, I accepted the apology and reassurances that it would never happen again, the second time, I broke his nose. The ex wasn’t physically abusive, he was coercive, controlling, and of the opinion that the ring on my finger meant he could put his penis wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. I had ‘nowhere to go’, so I went into myself, physically present, but not emotionally, for most of the 20 years we were together, I was living a half-life. (Whoa on the blame-shift, there, I’m down-shifting his behaviours against how ‘unkind’ I was in withdrawing my attention and affection, knowing how needy he was.) 
That ‘going into myself’ distancing behaviour is part of the over-arching issue. I ‘know’ that most people don’t intend to harm me, but what’s the point in taking the risk that they might? I don’t engage with people very much, I’m ‘stuck’ as that tiny little girl who wasn’t invited to parties because she wet herself, or that lanky teenager who was too intelligent to be in the gangs of the local kids, and too dirty-poor to be invited to the houses of the kids she was in classes with. Outsider-alien, I never quite grew out of the “I MUST be adopted, I can’t possibly belong here!” phase. It’s probably more than ten years since I realised that it’s not just the ‘not engaging’, I also actively push people away. Not quite as extreme as an abused child deliberately soiling themselves as a distancing tactic, but I can be pretty disgusting at times. It’s a tolerance-test, I say or do some pretty horrendous things to encourage ‘natural attrition’ of people, sometimes I just ‘drop off’, because I don’t have the emotional capacity to respond appropriately. 
At the very bottom of this rabbit-hole, I need to unpick the historical messages that I wasn’t good-enough from the fabric of now. I need to accept that what I have now has to be the foundation for whatever comes next, I can’t change the past, I can only shape my future reactions. I need to ease myself out of burrowing-behaviours, to stop running away from my emotions, and potentially engage-more, cut-off less. There are a very small number of people in my life who are very important to me, I need to rid myself of the notion that I’m too-cling, too-demanding, too-’me’, and accept that people who choose to engage with me do it of their own volition. I’m never going to be Ms Popular, and I don’t want to be, I’ll settle for good-enough. I’m damaged, I’m not broken, I’ll never be perfect, but no-one really is. I need to stop the old behaviour of ‘getting the first punch in’, and pushing people to reject me, it isn’t inevitable that they will. Keeping the whole world at arms length is incredibly draining, the bitch-armour is heavy, I need to learn to accept that I’m not ‘stealing’ attention or affection if it is freely given, that I might just deserve it.    
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spilling-thoughts-blog1 · 7 years ago
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a collection of my honest (yet irrelevant) thoughts. | wednesday 8/30/2017 |
current adventure: college. 
I feel stupid sitting on a bench on campus writing a post to (possibly) nobody; but after 3 classes (with another one today) spanning these first three days of college, I feel like I need to write it out. crying can only relieve so much in all honesty. so emo, my apologies. 
classes started Monday, 8/28/30 and from the moment I woke up on Sunday, I've felt so empty and drained despite only taking two hour-and-twenty-minute long classes. Monday was okay. Class let out 30 minutes early, and since it was my only class of the day I walked a few blocks down to Girlfriend’s campus. Her school is insanely nice, just my style. Very industrial, modern, and taken care of. A drastic difference to my school. 
Its dirty and old (not a cute-worn though, it just looks like it hasnt been taken care of) and the kids are crusty bums. Granted, Girlfriend’s school has weirdos, lots of them, but theres a sense of safety because you know they won't try to shank you if you bump them! I don't have that luxury here. Her school is a private art school, mine is just the local community college. gotta save those dollars.
Anyways. On Monday I sat on a bench (at Girlfriend’s school,) similar to this one, but I had the grass next to me instead of the dirt and sticks here and a young guy was cutting the lawn and it was quiet (aside from the lawnmower) and pretty and I felt like I was at home. The guy was nice, he felt bad asking me to move for a second so he could cut the grass next to me. If I was at my school I bet they would have just mowed right over my folders. Girlfriend got out of class after about an hour of me sitting on her campus and I got to see her for a few minutes, really the only other time I’ve seen her aside from the 20 minute car ride to school (which is two days a week keep in mind.) 
We used to hang out everyday. Senior year was the best because I got to see her during practically every period (1st, 2nd, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th actually... that is a lot lol) and then we would hang out after school. Perk of your girlfriend not driving- you have an excuse to see her more often; she has to run errands, she needs a ride home, she needs a ride to, etc etc. 
The smell of funnel cake keeps distracting me. I don't think theres any funnel cake, it just smells fried and sweet because the cafeteria is behind me and I'm getting hungry for the first time this week.
Not seeing her is one of the shittiest parts of college so far. I really miss her. Her classes are super long, each one at least 2 hours long I believe, and even though our schools are less than a 10 minute walk from each other, I can't see her because when she gets out of class, I'm just going into class. I also hate not seeing any familiar faces. Yeah, you have to make friends blah blah blah, but its a shock going from my nice high school with students I’d gone to school with since middle school; some even elementary school to this. sounds privileged, in know... I don't know why it keeps surprising me as well seeing full on adults walking into classes. Good for them though. 
My next class starts in 40 minutes (at 11:00 and its 10:17) but I’ll probably head up in a few. It’s a 2 hour and 50 minute class and I didn't bring any of the 6 books we have to read because I already had my two English books and I didn't want to lug 8 novels around in my backpack, especially since we haven't needed any of our books on the first day. But then again, its a 3 hour class and I doubt we’ll get out that early. 
Ew it smells like kerosene... not my favorite smell by far. They're setting up lame tables and tents and “Week of Welcome” activities. Will I participate? no. Am I the cause of my misery and tears thus far? Mostly. 
I read up on all of my professors I could find on “rate my professor” and this next one seems super fun. He has like, 4.4/5 review and apparently he's hot. everyone said his class is easy too which is a bonus. The reviews weren't too wrong about my Comp 2 professor, they didn't speak too highly of her. Right now I'm not a fan. She comes to class 5 minutes before it begins and seems very disorganized. I really don't like that. My Psych teacher is an absolute loon, but I feel like thats to be expected from a community college psychology professor. No offense if thats what you want to be, or if your favorite professor (or family member) is one. Just my honest thoughts. 
The sun came out, thats nice. Eases my anxiety a little bit when its nice out. 
Jesus Christ (pardon my language if it offends you) Chris brown just started blaring out of the welcome week speakers. they're trying to make this shitty cheap ass campus a party. no thank you. “now everybody put your hands in the air. yeah yeah yeah.” its lit. sense the sarcasm.
Hopefully this class will be better and when I get home (1:50 can't come soon enough) the feeling of empty darkness inside of me that has lingered for the past 3 days will subside a little bit. I won't get my hopes up. I should start a tear jar, a warning to seniors.
WHEN I SAY I WANT TO SEE FAMILIAR FACES I DONT MEAN THE CRUSTY MEAN FUCKBOYS I WENT TO HIGH SCHOOL WITH. I WANT TO SEE MY FRIENDS; OH WAIT, THEYRE ALL OVER ACHIEVERS AND NICE KIDS AND ARE AWAY AT SCHOOLS LIVING FUN LIVES AND BEING HAPPY, OR AT PRIVATE SCHOOLS RIGHT DOWN THE STREET BUSY DOING AMAZING ART. now its glamorous. good thing Fergie spells G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S because I don't think half of these kids can.
its been a while, its almost 5:30 now. my 3 hour class was boring as hell. he is not hot, nor young and he was 5 minutes late to class. you can hear him suck back his snot every few minutes and choke on it a little. but his class will be easy so thats great. I'm just questioning whether I need it or not. 
I haven't cried yet today, we’ll see how I feel later though. I miss Girlfriend. She’ll be home soon but I’ll bet you she’ll have to eat dinner as soon as she gets home, and then she’ll start her homework. nobody disrupts her art, not even me so I'll get to talk to her before bed for a few before I pass out at 10:00. It sucks because I was supposed to see Her Friday after my morning class ends, because she doesn't have class but then my new manager asked if I could come in. so instead of finally spending a day with her I'll be getting trained. my old manager is starting at the new store which is why I'm coming with him, but he has to get trained first, so really, its like starting a new job completely. I don't know why I decided it would be a good idea to switch jobs the first week of school. granted, there was no way in hell I would have stayed at my old job. I just should have waited until this first God awful week was over. but thats just my luck. 
Im always so tired now. I say always like its been a few weeks of school when really its been 4 days. mom asked if I wanted to go on a walk with the family, and of course I said no. “it’ll be good for your mental health” ahh I see, she can see me slowly slipping downhill again and wants to prevent it. well, I don't think a walk is going to make me feel much better about the fact that my school is dirty and the hallway I was in for my last class smelled horrible, which obviously worsened my mood, and the added fact that I'm starting a new job this week and don't know what I should wear. oh, and the other fact that I don't get to see my girlfriend anymore already and its only been 4 days. 
I had a bad feeling when She had her orientation and made her schedule. I new going to different schools would be horrible, but I didn't realize it would be like this. she's actually having fun and enjoying herself and making a few friends, and then theres me and I'm miserable and still have yet to speak to anyone really and she can't text in class when I'm out of class and I can't text in class when she's out. so thats great. I'm just waiting for the day she says someones flirting with her and she doesn't hate it. perks of dating a poly. I can't say no and deny her, especially when I'm not doing anything for her, or even seeing her, when someone else sees her almost every day. here come the watery eyes. plus, those kids are so much like her, they share her biggest passion. She always says she could never date someone who does what she does because it would be too much competition, but I feel like she's going to meet a photographer or videographer and it’ll be different enough to not impede on her talent, but it'll be similar enough that it’s great conversation and bonding. I'm just a jealous girlfriend, and college for us is looking to be the way I thought it would.
so, a summery for my future self who doesn't want to listen to this pity party:
Wednesday august 30, 2017. college sucks, I cry everyday, I hate my cheap dirty school and lame ass professors, I hardly see Girlfriend already, her experience is going great and I’m stressed af about starting a new job. countdown to the end of the semester-  74 days, 15 weeks, roughly 3.75 months, aka, too long to keep doing this shit. 
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