#Like its.... a very visceral feeling. I've never felt like that before. It's very strange to me

[the-cooler-king]

Mr I'm so hot I'll just send a cute selfie and expect people to respond with anything other than "on my way"

[katrinegrey]

I've had the chance to read through TWOTQ in its entirety and review things a couple times and wanted to do an awkward sort of list of my thoughts on the book. My thoughts are convoluted and full of spoilers, so if neither of those are things you want, please look away now.

I also have a tendency to word vomit, ramble, and make zero sense. You're welcome.

This was all typed on mobile so there could be some serious spelling and formatting errors. You've been warned.

I may also come back in another day and think of something to add, so...may or may not change a bit by tomorrow.

Last warning: there are spoilers below!

My rating : ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - 4 stars

I understand the polarizing feelings and very visceral opinions about this book. I hear you. This book was far from perfect, but I actually quite enjoyed it. It's probably my third favorite behind ASITE (forever my #1) and FBAA (the OG). I truly didn't much care for AKOFAF or ACOGB and was seriously considering dropping the series until it was fully released. Then I read ASITE and those plans shattered.

That said, I didn't have super high expectations going in. I had hopes and dreams and theories, but they weren't crushed or anything since most were either resolved in some way, even if it wasn't what I thought or would have preferred, or didn't involve characters we saw yet.

I will be going through the things I liked first and then the things I didn't so much enjoy.

Things I Liked :

the sass and banter. There was so much from everyone, and while it may have occasionally felt like a bit much, I still really enjoyed it.

Reaver and Millicent. Reaver is a godsdamn treasure, Millicent is precious, and I cannot wait to see more of both of them in the future. The strange, oddball babies.

Certain scenes or lines affected me far harder than I would have expected. After they pull Malec's casket out and are transporting it back and Reaver is sitting beside it with his hand on the lid and his eyes closed killed me. I teared up.

The constant mentions of Nyktos and the Consort. This is more of a specific like, but hearing about my favs made me happy.

I understand why some people are still mad about world building this late in the game, but I really enjoy heavy lore. For the most part, it ties in well. I think it can feel like a bit much because we're learning everything right along with Poppy, but it all seems to serve a greater purpose and I love it.

Poppy and Valyn's conversations. I loved them.

And this is where I'm going to really piss people off. I really liked the dynamic between Poppy x Cas x Kieran throughout the entire book. In MY (only my) opinion, I really liked it and thought it well done. I was worried before reading it from reading everyone's posts about it, but I was relieved while reading it. I understand people have really strong opinions about it. I respect your opinions and would never try to invalidate them. But please take those somewhere other than my replys (there are plenty of angry posts) and don't be mean here.

Things I'm not sure if I like or dislike :

Just the dual POV. Normally I don't mind it, but something about Casteel's POV just wasn't working here. It felt really off. But it didn't prevent me from enjoying the book but I wasn't sure I really enjoyed it. I found myself missing Poppy's POV hard.

Things I disliked :

the pronunciation guide. What the hell is even that?

Poppy's powers. I'm really not a fan of where this is going. Poppy is starting to feel really Mary Sue like in the same way that Aelin and Feyre could feel that way. Maybe even more. And it scares me for a multitude of reasons (we'll get to that later)

I like Malik's storyline and I love his potential going forward, but was I the only one that was put off by his character for unknown reasons? Like, he didn't do anything, and I don't actively dislike him. I really WANT to like him, but I find myself unable to fully commit because there's just something...off. Not off in a way like I think he's evil but just off.

What do I think could be next?

These are all just predictions and my opinions. Disagree as you like.

I think Poppy might grow too powerful for a reason. I don't see Jennifer pulling an Allegiant on Poppy and killing her off but I also don't see her being willing to take over ruling in Iliseeum and/or Atlantia and/or Solis. It's too much. Girl might be stripped of or give up her powers at some point on books 5 or 6. Or if she does indeed end up dead, she'll be brought back.

Which brings me to this point. What if she doesn't? I think in that case, we may as well say goodbye to Sera and Nyktos. I think they'll have to die for Poppy to stay as she is. I put them as both dying because I cannot abide by the thought of one dying and one being left alive. Nope. They go together.

Things (mostly people) I want to see more of :

Sera and Nyktos. Duh.

I'm so intensely interested in Nektas joining Poppy and Co. in their search for Ires and Jadis. Like, yes please!

I really want to see some of Malec and / or Ires reuniting with Daddy Nyktos and Mommy Sera. My obsession knows no bounds and reuniting scenes are my guilty pleasure!

I was a little disappointed that there wasn't more of the side characters we love like Vonetta, Emil, Naill and Delano. Though I did love seeing more of Perry. So, more please?

My ultimate (naïve) wish is for happy endings all around. Except for Kolis and Callum. Fuck them.

I need a scene with Poppy learning from or training with other gods and Primals now that they're awake.

[crowley-in-arkham]

Session Notes #4: Jonathan Crane

Crowley: I'm going to document this next part as well if that's okay.

Crane: It's alright by me.

Crowley: Who, if anyone here, would know how to make, or have access to your fear toxin?

Crane: Outside o' you? S'pose Strange would, maybe another inmate with tricky fingers could manage at least a crude form with a few cockroaches an' a spray bottle.

Crowley: You think Dr. Strange would recreate your toxin?

Crane: Child, have you pondered why someone would want to use my toxin to toy with the inmates here?

Crowley: Um, no, actually. That never crossed my mind. With you the reason would be simple enough, but, for someone else, since it isn't you-- why would they-

Crane: Oh, your little scrambled thoughts, I love to see it. If you were to find who was using my toxin on the cells if someone even is, what do they gain from it?

Crowley: It's a distraction.

Crane: Go on?

Crowley: I don't think it's supposed to be distracting me, though. It's not the kind of distraction to keep someone away.

Crane: I'm listenin'. Then what is it for?

Crowley: It's to keep you all docile, I mean, why else would they use the toxin in such a minor way? Some kind of subliminal control? Maybe conditioning you all, to be afraid to sleep, or to be unable to.

Crane: You're sharp, I'll give you that.

Crowley: So, it has to be one of us, one of the staff.

Crane: How old are you, child?

Crowley: I'm only 27, why?

Crane: You went to GCU when I was a professor, didn't you?

Crowley: I did, do you remember me?

I remember. I remember very clearly.

Crane: A bit, you were in my last year.

Crowley: You worked here at Arkham at some point in your career, didn't you?

Crane: Did I- do something to you?

Crowley: Jonathan Crane didn't do anything to me.

Crane: Oh, so I did.

Crowley: Scarecrow did. That doesn't matter now, does it, Professor? You're here in Arkham, and if they find out I was your student, you'll be taken out of my care. I would rather that didn't happen. I actually enjoy you.

Crane: Could you tell me, what I- he did?

Crowley: A little bit, sure. I don't remember some, but you injected me with one of the earliest forms of your toxin, right- here.

I pointed at the puncture scar above my collarbone.

Crowley: You went on and on about wanting to see what I saw. About, fear, and its nature. How, intimate of a feeling it was. Visceral. Animal. I'm not afraid of much, doctor, but I remember what I did and what I said-- and how you reacted.

"Don't leave me. Stay with me."

You had this look on your face, in my eyes, you were this massive beast. Terrifying. I felt like a little girl again, and I remember grabbing onto your coat. I said, "I won't hurt you."

Honestly, that look of surprise you had, looking back, it's funny to me. I thought you hated it, and, well, I still think you do. You were angry at me for it. I wasn't afraid of you, I didn't cower before you. I held onto you, I was more afraid that I would scare you.

Crane: Autophobia.

Crowley: What?

Crane: You suffer from Autophobia.

I laughed at that.

Crowley: Yeah, I guess I do. Aren't I the therapist here?

Crane: You are. (He pauses.) Crowley, thanks.

I was taken aback by that.

Crowley: Did Jonathan Crane just thank me?

He relaxes back in his chair.

Crane: You've been--good to me. I can't say I've ever liked being in Arkham. This little, situation, you've got? I'll help you.

Crowley: Really? You'll help me find who's using your toxin?

Crane: The Scarecrow don't like to share, an' well, usin' his toxin without permission? Now, that's just rude.

Crowley: Thank you, I guess I'll owe you one.

Crane: You'll owe me a little more than one, child.

Crowley: Of course, Professor. I'll end documentation for now so we can discuss further, without interruptions.

END SESSION NOTES. II.

OBSERVATIONS:

Crane might not be fully aware as the Scarecrow. At least, being the Scarecrow may have begun as some kind of episodic identity.

[titoist]

kole — Today at 1:18 AM obscure internal rules that i held onto as a child.... i don't think i could recall or list all of them. but i think what strikes me immediately is the fact that i treated them [inanimate objects] all like people, in a way that i feel went beyond how children tend to play with themselves by giving their school equipment fake names and adhering playful titles like "Mr." to them i remember when i broke an object for the first time i cried, not because it was important to me, but because it was my total subjective belief that i had killed it, in a way [....] kole — Today at 1:19 AM this almost certainly, in a way, i feel tends to feed into my latent hoarder instinct i keep onto objects so that they don't die. & in a way i think what my obsession with the past boiled down to is that i cared about the past too much to let it die, like i viewed it as an abstract idea who's gestalt was essentially an autonomous organism

[CENSORED] — Today at 1:21 AM yesterday you mentioned digging through the chat logs, and i said i don't really ever do that... but what i neglected to mention was that my relationship to that is the same view - an autonomous organism - but from the different direction. i am afraid of it. i get, i dare admit scared when i have to search back in a chatlog for something it's like i'm intruding on something that'll bring me pain if i process, ingest too much of it like i'll miss this moment that is now dead even if there's nothing bad to see here even looking through a best friends who i've never had a single argument with conversation fills me with such an unease... kole — Today at 1:24 AM i've inferred that, to some extent, haha… that's a wonderfully revealing psychological juncture between the two of us… it's strange. i think i've started to feel that way too, but only over the past year or so, so strong that it's now undeniable. but i didn't feel that way before at all kole — Today at 1:31 AM before, say, before last september, it was a personal unconscious belief that i totally & endearingly trusted the past. it's not that i viewed myself as its guardian, in a way, but more like an acolyte. which is very perverse and grotesque. practically my entire life had been exploring accumulations of a past that no longer existed - my childhood home having always had the same layout, actively penalized for changing something, a thin layer of dust accumulating over everything in layers - to the point i think i very well began to project a paternal relationship to it… which is strange to say, but i hope you can halfway infer my meaning… yet, now, when i search through chatlogs… i no longer get the urge to archive and back all of them up, like i once used to. i no longer get the urge to spend my evenings tending to un-visceral motions like tending to spreadsheets of past events where i once felt happy that i needed to cyclically fulfill in order to honor the memory of me being happy on that specific day, nor do i get the urge to organize playlists of music organized by year & made up exclusively of songs that i had listened to that year… playlists which i segmented & played in assigned periods, each yearly playlist corresponding to a week or a month. & for the most part i no longer feel the need to arrange my room layout in such a way that it resembles the room layout i had in april of 2020, creating a visceral feeling that it was april of 2020. & even when i do, i've found that it feels… uncomfortable, in a way that is beyond assuage or repair. now, tending to patterns only gives me a profound sense of dread. like i'm an insect on a dead thing. this is part of why i took a factory reset flamethrower to my computer at the end of august, since my computer had basically become infested with what i felt like were ghosts haunting me & this total heel-turn manifested briefly in a total distrust of anything that was not totally new. i felt intense unease simply handling downloads that i had made the week prior, completely subjectively terrified of coming into contact with a song i liked when i was a child. or anything that could remind me of anything. "madness manifesting as a fear of madness" a life built on memory never fits the person recalling it, since they've moved forward in time since then. in a way, i guess it's the immense fear that i will be rendered simply a bricolage of what the past has brought my way. [CENSORED] — Today at 1:38 AM i know the feelings you describe, the ghosts haunting you, but i myself don't know what to think of it. i've experienced it for as long as i remember, and i always felt like it's a fear just as unhealthy as obsessively chronicling the past like there's a middle ground i have to reach to become a complete person i don't want to literally be afraid of the good times in the past, and i especially feel it like that, like songs i liked in the past, things i enjoyed once they haunt me like i dont know how but they surface out feelings a vulnerability that i fear will just hurt me [...]

[CENSORED] — Today at 1:42 AM i have a 1457 video playlist of songs i like ive kept updated since late 2017 it also features the first song shared with me by my first girlfriend, among many other things it makes me feel an unease i do not want to feel when i scroll through it so i usually don't, just skimming the surface of the most recent things kole — Today at 1:43 AM it's funny...

[CENSORED] — Today at 1:43 AM it is just like that feeling when youre like a 100 meters off the shore and you look down and you see its just black down there kole — Today at 1:43 AM i recently took a blowtorch to all of my youtube playlists, alongside my computer, for that exact reason ...and all of my subscriptions which remained completely untouched since i was around 7, i bet it was like looking in the eyes of some horrible deranged thing. music playlists dedicated to my (past) friends' fantrolls i made when i was 11... [...] kole — Today at 1:46 AM i fear that if this feeling remains unchallenged, it will eventually compound & reinforce itself to the point of lunacy. because the past is a solidified thing that only increases - as you age, more and more will be appropriated by this feeling. it'll be impossible. [...] [CENSORED] — Today at 1:46 AM i've erased my past often before and i realized it's not right in the past couple of years i want to accept it soon or never, i don't know kole — Today at 1:47 AM i know. even in that moment i felt intense guilt, like i was doing something i wasn't supposed to, like i was killing something totally real, like when you dropped the glass & felt bereaved to the point of tears. i just felt totally subjectively suffocated in that moment, like walls closing in on all sides, & the only way through was by ripping it to shreds. disgusting, horrible [...] [CENSORED] — Today at 1:47 AM the past is always increasing and you must learn to have a good relationship with it. not as something to obsessively shield or a spectre to be evicted, it just has to be, somewhere in.. the middle i know how that moment is.

kole — Today at 1:48 AM you have to eventually learn to view as the past as a totally neutral facet of yourself but it's really hard! it feels totally impossible at times! looking at the past - the deep past, that detritus laying at the very bottom of your brainbed - feels like opening up a gaping, gnashing wound! and i guess that's what you're trying to do, huh. [CENSORED] — Today at 1:51 AM i suppose it is the place in which it's all taken place is the gnashing wound of the past and what it's all moving toward is the resolution of... becoming an adult, i guess failing is succumbing to a totality of thought that is hopelessly trying to preserve the past or destroy it. kole — Today at 1:53 AM ohhhh, it can all feel so confusing at times, can't it?

[theodinsonsonmidgard]

Hold me Tight 2 - part 2-

Perhaps, as Thor said, it was true that those transparent waters had the power to cleanse your soul and make you think more clearly. Perhaps this is the power the Gods have given to the salt waters of Midgard. Thor and I enjoyed ourselves as I never remembered before. Perhaps only in our earliest childhood days, I remember a joy so pure in being together.

I swam with him, competing in speed with the white-crusted waves: we are young, we are strong, Sons of Odin, and we looked like the creators of Midgard came down to enjoy the beauties of that paradise. Sometimes I watched him swim, while I stopped to wash out the water dripping on my face from my hair. Thor, my wonderful brother. Thor, whom I feared having lost forever. Thor, please don't leave me behind ...

I wonder if I'm still your brother, at your eyes. Somewhere, in our past, a crack has opened up and is chasing us to swallow both of us once and for all. Even now.

It was my fault, Thor, I opened that crack, ... and I'll close it for both, i promise you. But don't let me go this time.

Then I couldn't think more because a dripping blond giant swept me away with a bear hug, and dragged me off with him, with a laugh, over the waves.

Dinner was roast meat of which my brother was very proud. As the air turned purple and the sun went down, I had already made my decision. No regrets. I felt strong, strangely euphoric. I wanted to hug him but I restrained myself. There would be time, i was sure of it.

The fire crackled placidly. The night air, which became almost pungent, didn't disturb me, on the contrary, it cooled my skin a little, and caressed my thoughts. Even the wind had changed its voice, its smell, ...no longer the scent of freedom, but something deeper, earthy, almost visceral. Perhaps due to the volcanic rocks and ungainly bushes of the hills above us. And he was there, beyond that bonfire ... with flaming reflections to sculpt his face, blonder than ever, an open smile.

Thor Odinson. 

My brother. Who spoke loudly, who told me stories, who laughed, ...and I listened to him, teased him, laughed with him, while another part of me, secretly, was looking for the guts to put into effect what I had decided earlier.

It had been a wonderful day. The first since Thor brought me back. Perhaps one of the rarest of my whole life. And I didn't want to ruin it with what I was going to do, but I decided to be ready. Or anyway I could try. I wanted to start trusting.

Ours had been a wretched and unhappy family, yet, whether I wanted it or not, I loved Thor. Desperately.

I had given my life for him.

Twice. The word 'brother' in my mind has the bright face of Thor. And I had decided to let him enter in a part of my life so private and hurtful that I've been hiding since years. That I know only myself.

I wanted to start trusting him. Showing him that I had changed, that I could stop protecting myself and flee. Although it would have required a lot of courage, since I should have ...

Thor was laughing at me and the fact that I was staring at the fire dance like an idiot. I roused myself, smiling.

'C'mon, you bastard ...'

"Thor, listen ..." I bit my lip, he noticed it this time, and softened his voice.

"Loki, what is it? Do you have migraine? Do you want us to go home?"

I chuckled to hide the tension: would you face the most terrible of storms, knowing you were naked as a worm? Totally defenseless? Because this was what I was going to do from now on ...

"No, I'm great,... no, listen ..."

'Look at him, Loki ...'

"Do you remember when we fought each other, during all those painful and absurd years? You've always accused me of being too quiet. You told me to keeping you at a distance, to rejecting you. Of never making you enter my thoughts, explain my feels... that I was the worse brother, ... no, wait, please. "  I smiled  "Please wait ..."

A deep breath. Burning air, cold and salted, rising up the nose, until it invades my chest.

 "So I decided that I can do it, a step towards you, brother, and try to break down this wall that keeps us in our pride. And that Surtur may devour me if I'm not trembling to the bone, damn you!"

 Silence. Wind and the liquid chant of the sea, black into black.

"Do you remember when ...when I ...I let it go? When I fell down, long time ago, ... when everything was shattered, me for first but nobody cared. Remember when I came back and everything was different, everything changed. Your gang of new pompous friends, Midgard, ... all the rest. I have very confused memories of those days, but I remember well when we met again, between heaven and earth. And we talked, or rather we spit on each one our hatred. I could have told you then, but you had other things on your mind and no intention of listening. Or maybe not, I wouldn't have told you a shit either." I giggled nervously.

I was wearing an half-buttoned old shirt, worn and light, of which I didn't care at all,...dark blue, shiny fabric. I undid the third button.

"I fell into the void, then, ... into nothingness. I wanted... to die, to finally find peace, to appease my pain. Instead I found a worse hell. Perhaps the worstest of all. And I implored death as the sweetest of salvations."

Gods, it's terrible to remember aloud. I can't believe you're next to me, listening all of this. For real.

"He took me. I don't know how he did it, but I found myself crawling at his feet in an alien and terrible world. He was thirsty for power. He had a plan. He wanted everything. He wanted the Gems and crush down the Worlds, and I could be useful to him. But first he had to crush down me."

I undid another shirt's buttonhole.

"I know you never understood much of what's on my mind, Thor, ...but it wasn't your fault. Not always, at least. And this thing ... maybe it was beyond both of us."

I undid the penultimate button.

"There was no more day, no more night. There was only cold, pain and fear. There were many of them. They surrounded me. They laughed at me. Call me names. But his shadow on the moldy marbles was enough to make them disappear, leaving me at his mercy... Did you ever wonder why I hate sudden gestures, or why unexpected noises make me uncomfortable when they don't terrify me? "

Here, the shirt was open.

"Have you ever wondered why I stiffen every time you touch me? ... I was afraid of the whip, but the worst was the fire. The fire was the craziest pain, and ... I lost consciousness. Almost always. That maniac knew how to use the whip well. Where to hit. How to hit. He whispered in my mind, ... no one will ever care about you, little monster, ... nobody wants you, they despise you, spit on your shadow of demon, you're been a burden for everyone, you will always be, but I can give you the power that... if only you... "

I swallowed again. The air started to become cold, too much cold, ...carried with it a vague hint of resin ...

'NO!!'

It has always been like this. Frost magic woke up every time I was upset, or if something infuriated me, and blew ice on everything around me. But it couldn't happen there, ... there, in the sea waves glossy of moonlight, and the holey rocks of the volcanoes.

'Loki, dominate yourself!! Not now, Loki, not here!!'

The blue shirt slid over my shoulders, then I pulled my arms off from sleeves. Here, Thor, ... take a step into my world, ... look at my miserable pain.

"It was ... it was pure hell, Thor. A hell made of blood, pain and fear in which I crawled for I don't know how long. I saw my blood, I felt it on me, it made me sick. Did you ever notice how sickening it is the smell of blood? ... With fire I went crazy. With the blades I saw death in the eyes, and had the purple skin of my killer, that son of a bitch. He wanted me crushed, and he crushed me. He wanted me submitted and I bent. Because I healed. In a hurry. I am a God and he knew it. So the ... horror started again, always. The young Loki, the one who sought death to forget the pain, is gone. He was destroyed by that hell. I ... I don't know what he made me become but I survived by pure animal instinct, I survived the fire, the whip, the blades, the cold and beatings. But I healed more slowly, so he decided I was ready."

I didn't have the guts to look at Thor. I was there, bare-chested, arm in arm with him, and I felt his burning blue eyes on me. It burned like those blades.

Are you pale? Are you speechless? Furious? In tears? I don't want to know now, brother.

"I know what you are seeing. I know them one by one. They heal slowly. Some will never heal. Some intertwine on the shoulders, stretch to the chest. There is also a fire wound, next to it ... the blades instead were biting arms ...here, and here, ..." I barely touched my pale skin "The whip tore the skin from the back. The back is the worst. There are a couple that still hurt,...others no longer exist. Like here, on the eyebrow, or just above the ear..."

Scars. From the shoulders as far as a whip could reach. Or tongues of fire. Or those damn blades.

There was no better way to tell you. Nor a different way. Forgive me, brother...

He had to see them and I had to do it. I realized that if I wanted to recover from all my shit, I had to let go and expose myself.

Running away had only made things worse, it was festering everything.

I need my you to see, Thor. I need to hear your support. I wanted to know that you can be with me, so my recovery will be less painful and I could move on more easily. Will you stand by my side, brother?

So I looked up at him, and saw it.

The raging storm.

Flaming fury in Thor's dark eyes. Ready to lash out at me. I could feel them, those eyes, like a punch in the face. I knew I had hurt him and it devastating me. Now I realized I had broken him and I would have given everything to be able to go back and cancel that insane decision of mine. I wanted to die, and I probably would have died by his hand, because the one in front of me was no longer the chatty, smiling Thor who hugged me and called me "little brother".

He was the God of Thunder in his wildest and most primordial form. Rage and fury. It was pure berserk fury as I had never seen it before.

A terrifying roar shook the night sky and shook the earth beneath the volcanoes with a frightening groan. The air vibrated in my ears with such intensity that forced me to a stifled moan of pain. Then the air was shattered by the furious cry of the God of Thunder, which I had just completely broke with my senseless act. So I was ready to die.

[sugar-petals]

Hey Caro! You total cutie🐬. You know, I'm almost 21 and I've never dated in my whole life. I wonder if it's strange. I've had crushes in those hormonal days of 7th and 8th grades but I never pursued those boys because the sobre part of my brain told me that it's not gonna last anyway because it was mostly physical attraction so no point in going for it. And after that phase I've never had any crushes (if you don't count the celebrity and fictional character ones). - hermit (part 1)

I feel like a hermit in a way. But I suppose the reason I don’t have crushes is because I really don’t wanna date yet ie my frontal lobe (thinking part) doesn’t believe it’s time yet. But, my amygdala wants affection because ‘wtf all your friends are dating or at least looking around you dumbass, why do you wanna be by yourself.’ Anyway, I don’t wanna date because I want to fix some negatives of mine like my temper, territorial nature, impatience before - hermit (part 2)

Before I can start handloha another person or maybe it’s just that my standards are unrealistically high. I don’t know which. I’m ranting because at times when frontal thinks there’s no danger, it’s lets amgdalaa speak a little and I end up feeling sorry for myself because I’m by myself. And then I think I should date for the heck of it because I mean so many people date with a less than satisfactory state of mind. I mean some are total pricks. Maybe I’m too much of a perfectionist - hermit (3)

Or maybe I care too much or maybe I just have this utopian idea of how relationships should be that doesn’t happen in real life. Whatever. All I know, frontal lobe’s dating ban isn’t going anytime soon. I ranted too much. I just wanted to talk to someone and you are a good person to talk too. Don’t worry, I don’t expect consolation. Talking about it felt good. Thanks striped kitty. Btw, cannot wait for cinder #waitingwithbatedbreath.-hermit(4)

In this day and age, the reverse would be strange. Dating has altered significantly and bizarrely worldwide, especially the demographic on this site walks a different path. Likely because we aren’t the straightest community in the first place and experience a life progress that is extremely delayed or compensated. In your case�� add that you’re very smart. Careful intelligence that never stops reflecting or hesitating and visceral relationships don’t mix well. Oil and water. Especially when needing isolation comes in.

Dating is torture for smart people who might be better at spatial, logical, linguistic things rather than interpersonal skill which is a league of its own and requires hands-on bravery instead of detachment, tons of emotional efforts. Comparing oneself to what you see socially apt people achieve — at least on the surface — can make you feel lonely and like a misanthrope others can’t relate to. And it gets easy to look down on a person with a 9 to 5/marriage/kids mindset to keep that mentality away from you, Eleanor Roosevelt style, substitute ‘discuss’ using ‘deal with’:

I personally say 50-50, the world doesn’t run on ideas only, but you get the point. It’s easy to feel envy and want to be above all that. Worse if your environment pressures you into something you feel ambivalent about. I would be impatient and angry as well. Cuz they don’t understand what you mean and want you to live their style of life. Such coercion is misery.

Clever people see fewer points in lust or romance because they ask why and see shortcomings, not just opportunities or satisfactions. Because indeed they think in ideals and not actualities which is not a bad thing (otherwise humanity would not move on). In your case, often your own shortcomings are like a mirror, and in comes the protective mechanism that more impulsive people don’t bother with. Each relationship has partners with demons, question is whether they are aware of how they torment or burden each other, and if it can be dealt with. I think it’s admirable and a positive feat that you seize responsibility for all of your qualities and not just the exemplary ones, and don’t follow blindly what everyone says a standard happy life should be full knowing but ignoring the heavy dark side of drama, split-up/divorce, abuse, unhealthy circumstances & repercussions. If anything, you passed Caro’s masterclass with flying colors 😊 It’s a good thing that you reflect to me and don’t run into the dating field without thinking about dangers or what you bring to the table. And you don’t have to be ashamed about conflicting desires. Again, this is a sign of your intelligence.

Fictional characters are a distant, safe, and malleable type of outlet that you can create how you want it to be, full control, and it meets at least some needs without overwhelming you with how unpredictable crushing on someone is, and how much it shatters your standards. Said celebrity is far away or even closed into an imaginary space inside, no more hurting each other. What I think is: Modern life only gives us a promise of intimacy through relationships, that’s a giant barrier. We want it, but it never fulfills, and breaks your heart over and over. You find intimacy elsewhere, too, it’s not locked away to sex on a high pedestal, but culture wants it to be. Believe it or not… I deeply loathe this myself. It eliminates all potential of interaction we have. We’ll be in a double bind and still pressure each other into template lives that might not be good for everybody until we say fuck it.