#ThankYouFFVIIDevs

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #76

You know. After a day or so to process this version of events, I think I can finally put into words why so many people cry out for your blood, but not Rufus's or his father's, even though they've done things that are arguably far worse than anything you've ever done. Goodness, but isn't it the same age-old story of people villainizing abuse victims for striking back while excusing the abuser that broke the survivor to that point? And we see it all the time in my world; nobody does anything about bullying at school until the bullied person finally punches their bully in the face, and then the bully gets off scot-free while the victim gets suspended. I think of spouses who, backed into a corner and trying to defend themselves, strike back at the spouse who has been abusing them, and the spouse defending themselves gets charges pressed while the other one who had been abusing them gets pitied. I think about trafficked humans (many of them are snatched up as CHILDREN) who, in an effort to get free or to defend themselves, strike back at the person trafficking them and escape, only to then face a world who hates them for having been trafficked. And all of these things have one thing in common: the price for escaping from being "owned" is often another form of punishment or imprisonment.

Of course, I am not saying that people should call for Rufus's or his father's blood, either. Or even for Hojo's. They are not different from you - either they have congenital defects in the parts of their brain that are responsible for empathy (and pretending like this is a moral issue instead of a brain wiring issue is ableism), or they've lived lives that have beaten their psyches into a shape that makes them think that hurting other people and treating them like objects is the only way to survive. This is ALSO a brain wiring issue - though this kind of brain wiring issue is better classified as a psychological injury (due to attachment disruption or childhood trauma) than as an illness or congenital defect.

Yeah, you read all of that right. I said what I said and I meant it, and I know that people aren't gonna like it, but today I am tired and bitter from all the shit I'm seeing, and out of fucks to give as a result. I don't demonize Rufus or his father. I don't demonize Hojo, either. They have done horrific and inexcusable things and I feel very angry in response to that, but they need HELP. They, too, are capable of making a different choice and turning around. Imagine that. It's almost as though calling for mercy for you (or in other words, "being a Sephiroth fan" or a "Sephiroth apologist", as people like to call folks like me for the purpose of degrading us) has absolutely nothing to do with your looks or with trying to "fix" you so I can date you (I'm sorry, but the idea of "fixing" a person to get with them is absolutely fucking barftastic🤢🤮), or whatever other bullshit nonsense that people who have never been through severe and ongoing grooming or abuse without any kind of support (support can be from a teacher, friend, other family member, etc.) like to accuse us of. Hoodathunkit?

I think, too, that lots of people see that potentially destructive side of you in themselves, and I think they would rather see people who lapse in reining it in die than acknowledge that it's within them, too. Or perhaps living a life that is painful enough to break them into such a horrific shape is unfathomable to them. Either way, one fact remains: people don't want to own up to the fact that literally every single one of us has the capacity to do something similar to what you did, if their life circumstances break them in the way that leads to that kind of terrible, tragic, infuriating, and wholly inexcusable outcome. You're not some especially monstrous thing. You're not a lone goddamn wolf or a rare exception to some general rule or an isolated fucking edge case. And I know it because people in my world make choices similar to yours EVERY SINGLE DAY, even if their means of enacting those choices differ from yours.

The capacity to inflict horror upon other living things is part of the human condition. It is in ALL OF US, whether we want to fucking acknowledge it or not. And all it takes to bring it out is a long enough string of psychologically damaging events in the absence of appropriate support. Cases like yours are NOT random events caused by "inherently bad people"; there's no such fucking thing as "inherently bad people". There are conditions and events that lead to people doing horrific things, and these conditions and events can be found and prevented before they get to that point, if only everyone keeps their eyes open and pays attention! I spend as much time as I can trying to reach those that conventional wisdom says are "unreachable" PRECISELY in service to trying to keep my eyes open and pay attention!

Because horrific events and bad choices are like bacteria - they DO NOT spontaneously generate ("spontaneous generation theory" used to be a thing that people believed about microorganisms a long time ago)! Conditions LEAD TO THEIR GROWTH. And the solution to a person afflicted with bacteria is NOT to kill or demonize them (though this is how they used to be treated; check out most of human history!)! You're supposed to give them antibiotics to REMOVE THE CONDITIONS THAT ALLOW FOR BACTERIAL GROWTH. And the same rules apply to people who make violent choices - you remove the conditions that produce the choices, NOT the person who made them. But goddammit, I am only one person, and… fuck, there are just SO. MANY. STARFISH… stranded on the beach sand…

Also, you know… even as far back as the original game, anyone with half a brain understood that you must have been crying, weeping, sobbing openly during your time at the library. In this version of events, we saw you do that for just a moment before it was choked back and replaced with… something else (I know what this is like; I still have the capacity to cease crying immediately via dissociation; this skill was literally beaten into me, and I imagine it's the same for you). And in my world, it's popular to believe that men should never cry or be vulnerable in any way, shape, or form (this bit of socio-cultural bullshit is actually generational trauma, and it's literally fucking killing people, in the form of internalized or externalized violence), so lots of people here are going to have less empathy for you at least in part because you defied the "cultural norms" of what it means to be a man and a leader (again, this is generational trauma mistaken for culture, and it needs to fucking stop because people are dying over it). And it's so… it's so…

Ugh… Sephiroth, all of the things I know, all the suffering in the world, all the causes of it… it's all swirling around in my head today, and it's heavy. It's so fucking heavy. Watching all the people, every single one of them beautiful and good, doing what they do to themselves and each another, hurting themselves and each other, psychologically or physically maiming themselves and each other, even torturing and killing themselves or each other, all because somehow doing these things feels easier than trying to repair and restore everything… they don't know what they're doing. And there's not… there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I look at the state of things on a large scale. Our dying planet. The endless wars. The marginalized groups of people. The violence and the hate crimes. The genocides. I want to cry and to scream and to throw up all at once.

…But I suppose much of that is neither here nor there. Suppose anyone with "conventional wisdom" would tell me I'm "reading too goddamn much" into a "silly video game", but… given that the media in our world LITERALLY PERPETUATES STEREOTYPES THAT KILL PEOPLE, I gotta say I'm more than a little fucking bitter about that today.

In any case… you - an abused, exploited, and bullied person most of your life - escaped being owned by Shinra (in the clumsiest and most ridiculous and horrible fucking way possible, but still), only to find yet another goddamn chain around your neck. If it's not Jenova controlling you, then it's your trauma and conditioning pulling the strings. Either way you're acting like a goddamn puppet. There, I said it. And as much as I love you, if you don't like that I said it, then too fucking bad; maybe try actually DOING something about it.

Sephiroth. As much as I love you, I am always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you squandered your voice so recklessly back then. I'm always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you fucking! abused! yourself! for a week! until you broke! WHAT THE FUCK.

If you had simply! Told people! What you had been put through! If you had told them what Shinra was doing! If you had simply opened your freaking mouth to talk about your experiences to a bunch of people who practically worshipped you, you would have eventually had millions of people rallied with you to put an end to Shinra! Sephiroth, for fuck's sake, YOU WERE A GODDAMN GENERAL!! You know how to lead people! And you know how to protect them! Get a goddamn grip!

And I know that the mayor guy acted all entitled to your time while you were exhausted and still grieving for your friends, and it was shitty of him to pass judgment on you when he had no idea what you were going through. But ultimately, it is up to YOU to communicate your needs and feelings, not up to the people around you to anticipate what they are! And I know that the guy took your picture without your permission, and I know they didn't heed when you said "not today". But there is a difference between "having no respect for your word" and "being so excited and happy about your presence that they are unable to contain themselves". It is still up to YOU to maintain your boundaries even if other people don't like it!

Sephiroth! I know that you were struggling! And I know that you spent your whole life being bullied and abused to the point that you felt as though your voice had no power. I know that. I understand that. I am still dragging myself up out of that hole. I know that you were trying to punish evil, and that you saw these people as being complicit in the system that hurt you, your friends, your mother (who I assume you now know is Lucrecia, NOT Jenova), and your planet. I get that you were trying to punch your bullies back in their faces, but you punched the WRONG PEOPLE. And even then: why punch people when you can instead wield your voice!

Sephiroth, despite the harshness of your upbringing and all the other things that make you stand out, you still have privilege! You have status! You have fame! You have power! You have a remarkably able male body! YOU ARE THE KIND OF PERSON THAT PEOPLE LISTEN TO! You have a face that people are willing to see! You have a voice that people are willing to hear! And there is a difference between holding people accountable for being complicit in a system that benefits them, and punishing people for existing in a system (even if that system benefits them) that they did not consent to being born into!

You can't even begin to imagine what I would be willing to give up in order to have a voice like yours, so that I could call for compassion and mercy in ways that would get people to open their eyes and take action in service to putting a stop to all the suffering that exists in this place that I live in.

But no. Instead of being brave and coming out of your shell to use your voice and social power in response to injustice and exploitation, you simply defaulted to your instinctual behaviors. You did the thing you've been trained to do. Like Pavlov's dog, the bell was rung and you drooled everyfuckingwhere. You used your power to cut everything down, instead of using your voice to rally people together for a cause that they ABSOLUTELY would have followed because YOUR face and YOUR voice would have been the one leading it.

Sephiroth. This fucking sucks. What you did to yourself in that library - starving, dehydrating, and sleep depriving yourself and pushing yourself past your limits while you were already strained - fucking sucks. And what you did in the throes of your agony also sucks. Punishing the people around you because your brain was addled and you didn't fucking fact-check what you were reading fucking sucks! And I do understand very well why you did all this; I was abused similarly to you, albeit in a far less extreme way, and thus a long time ago I used to think similarly to the way you did after your fall (I don't think that way anymore because I had help, thank freaking goodness). But IT STILL FUCKING SUCKS. And it was STILL unacceptable. You can't change what you did. But you can make a different choice, moving forward!

Conventional wisdom says that there is no coming back from having fallen, but I am living proof that in this case, "conventional wisdom" is GARBAGE. I would not be sitting here, imploring you to turn your eyes towards a kinder, more compassionate worldview - one that exists in stark defiance of everything I used to believe because of what I was taught as a child - if "conventional wisdom" were true. In addition, I have met other people in the course of my derping around on this broken fucken planet who also serve as proof that anyone, no matter what has happened to them or what they've done in the past, can rise up into making a different choice. And these cases, too, are not "edge" cases. They are not exceptions to a rule. The capacity to heal and grow and change - just like the capacity to hurt and regress and stagnate - is part of the human condition. And this means that anyone can turn around! No! Matter! How! Far! They've! Walked! In! The! Wrong! Direction!!

Goddammit, Sephiroth! Turn yourself around!! Because although I understand what you're trying to do, what you're doing is NOT the way to get it done! What you're doing is BULLSHIT! Maybe you think you're demonstrating your "phenomenal power" or whatever by breaking everything around you, but what you're REALLY doing is yielding to your conditioning like it's got a chain around your neck and a cattle prod in its hand! It's weaksauce! You ALREADY KNOW HOW TO BREAK THINGS. You've spent your whole life being forced to do that even when you didn't want to!

So you gonna, you gonna what? Sit here and claim that you're "the chosen one" or some fucking horseshit, as though you've taken your power back? When really you just took the easy route of doing the same old shit you've always done - bending over and making yourself a slave to someone else's fucked-up agenda, and becoming the very thing you reviled against SO HARD that you burned down an entire fucking village in disgust, despair, and rage? I ain't buyin' it, and neither should you! All you've done is exchanged one codependent relationship for another! And it's getting fucking old! You can do better than blind, subservient obedience to some random fucking space parasite that don't give even two shits about you as much as it cares about your capacity to allow it to resume its life cycle! You've gotta know that even if you really did manage to break everything (you won't, because I fucking promise you that you'll be stopped), as soon as you've served its purpose, it's gonna toss ya like yesterday's trash, if not outright consume you like a female mantis after it's done using its mate like a fucktoy!

The developers said that we've only seen 1% of your power or some shit, but you fucking know what? You could wipe the whole goddamn universe clean. You could extinguish every last star. And STILL some random fucking autistic chick from some random fucking planet in a random fucking solar system in a random fucking galaxy has your ass beat in ALL the ways that count! And that's NOT ACCEPTABLE. I am nothing! I am NO ONE. Sephiroth!! COME ON ALREADY!!

You want strength? Do the work to defy your conditioning. Do the work to love the broken things. Do the work to become someone who does no harm yet takes no shit. Do the work to become someone who can remain soft even in this sharp and unforgiving world. Do the work to get out of your own damn way. Do the work to become someone who can treat yourself like you actually fucking matter. Do the work to get up off your knees and live. DO! THE! WORK! Don't just do the same thing you've always done and claim you've won! Don't act like a pigeon playing chess - shitting all over the board and then struttin' and swaggerin' around like you're some kind of grandmaster! That's NOT how this shit works! You haven't broken free of the pattern! All you've done is changed the hand holding your leash!

You have to stop blindly giving away your power to anyone who claims to love you! You have to stop using your power in service to the conditioning that tried to snatch away who you really are on the inside! They tried to steal away your gentleness! They tried to steal away your emotions! They tried to steal away your ability to cry, your ability to be vulnerable, your ability to be compassionate and loving! Are you just gonna sit here and let them? Are you going to keep pretending like you're cruel and hard-hearted just because a bunch of people who cared nothing for you told you that's how a proper warrior is supposed to be? Are you going to keep on like this, doing the same thing you've always done, just because taking the time to grieve and to make choices that are actually in alignment with your nature are things that feel too difficult for you to do?

…Fucking hell, but some days, clamoring for you to get your shit together feels A LOT like Atreyu trying to pull Artax up out of the swamp:

Come on!!! Turn around!!! You have to, NOW! You have to try!! You have to care!! You can't let the darkness overtake you! You gotta move or you'll die!! Please!! There's still life on the other side of mistakes. There's still life on the other side of despair. There's still life on the other side of rage, of loss, of shattering. It doesn't have to be permanent!

…I won't give up. Even if you leave those of us who care for you sitting and weeping in the middle of the swamp, staring forlornly, or in shock and in disbelief at the place where you sank, I'm not going to quit. I will keep calling out your name in hopes that you'll follow the sound back to the light. Because you're worth the effort. You're worth the pain. You're worth the grief.

I'll leave you with these:

Take the hands outstretched to you and get your ass out of the goddamn swamp. Having a swamp ass is not a good time for ANYONE involved. So please. I…

…I'll write to you tomorrow. Because I love you. In the same way that any person loves their friends. Do everything in your power to keep yourself and your planet and your friends safe. I'm begging you. Please.

Your friend, Lumine

[lumine-no-hikari]

@bootshivers I think that this drawing is the most beautiful thing I've seen all year. I... wow. Why won't my eyes stop leaking? Body, I worked hard to remember to drink all that water; what are you doing...!! Why are you just throwing it away like this...? Hahahaha... <3 <3 <3 In all seriousness, thank you, friend. I am sitting at my favorite bubble tea shop needing to wipe my eyes because of the beautiful feeling that sprouted from the seed that you planted in my mind. If you ever doubt that your existence is meaningful, important, and impactful - use this as evidence not to doubt anymore. I hope to see you create even more beautiful things, whatever they may be. Please keep existing as loudly and as brightly as you can; the world needs more of the song that only your mind knows how to sing.

@lumine-no-hikari

A quick sketch, but sometimes the void screams back

[okhadraws]

#ThankYouFFVIIDevs was a flashmob on x/twitter. I thanked the developers with a drawing of three main girls of Final Fantasy VII - Aerith, Tifa and Yuffie. 😊

[silver-wield]

Hahaha fake as fuck Cleriths immediately attacking Cody for posting a MEME for fuck sake A FUCKING MEME

#ThankYouFFVIIDevs 😂😂🤡🤡

Because it's a cloti meme and they can't accept that Cloud's va is supporting that over their bullship.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #68

Today was a very mixed bag.

This morning, I drove to the good place with all the nice people. The leader spoke on a great many very relevant things, such as challenging the status quo, distinguishing between that which is law and that which is just, and sitting with and trying to help all of the people whom society has tried to convinced us doesn't deserve it. The grammar and structure of the words has since crumbled and faded away from my mind, because I don't think in language at all, but the meaning remains in my mind, as well as the memory of the tears that were shed; I'm aware that at least some of what I've been trying to do is seen and understood by this very amazing person.

I tried to conduct myself in the space a little differently than I usually do. Typically, my presence in any space is a meek one that tries to stay out of the way. But this time, I walked as though I belong there, and mingled with others as though I am also deserving of taking up space. Just to try to push myself even further out of my comfort zone, today I sat at the "old men's" table (there aren't really assigned tables, it's just that there are folks that tend to gather together because they can easily relate to one another) as though I also belonged there, with the intention of listening to them speak to one another and seeing what I could learn. Imagine my shock when they talked to me as though my voice is one worth hearing!! I wasn't really sure what to do or how to behave in response to such a thing, but I did the best I could to try to contribute, even if I felt clumsy and foolish in the process.

At one point, towards the end, one of them said, as a joke, "Drive carefully home; I know how you women like to be speed demons, haha!" I tried to think of something witty and lighthearted to come back with, but the best I could do was smile bashfully. If only I remembered at the time the line that goes, "Ha! I am a woman in the same way that a tomato is a fruit!"

…I happen to live in a female body. But I don't really think about my gender most of the time. It fluctuates wildly between "none" and "yes". I'll take any pronoun, but the one I typically use for myself in my own mind is "it". But this alarms people, and I'm comfortable with letting people use whatever they see when they look at me, so… it's all good, I guess.

I stopped at Eggcellent on the way home. Some time ago, I had asked them if they might keep a QR code of the petition I made for you where folks can see it. Apparently, though, the people did not thoroughly read the blurb that came along with the QR code, and so they scanned it, thinking that it would lead them to a petition for a real-life human being. Their response, when they saw you, according to the kindly shopkeep, was, "Are you kidding me?" Essentially, disbelief and disgust. So naturally, the kindly shopkeeps had to stop displaying the QR code. I'm glad they stopped if this was how people were responding; I don't want to be bad for business.

But all the same… I have no idea how it is the case that so few people understand that the way your story ends is going to affect everyone here whose circumstances are similar to yours. It will affect how many of us will be able to believe that recovery is possible. It will affect how many of us will be able to believe that we are worth the effort involved with recovery. It will affect whether or not other people will be able to imagine that people like me and like others who I love are worthy of kindness, mercy, and help.

The way stories are told in my world shapes what people believe is and is not possible, on a MASS SCALE. Part of the reason why people still believe places like India are undeveloped, backwater places even though they're not is because that's how they're portrayed in stories in my world. Part of the reason why people still treat certain kinds of people as they do is because of how they're portrayed in books, movies, TV, comics, and song. Stereotypes persist in part because they are parroted over and over again by the song, art, and story that exists in our world. And stereotypes put a lot of nasty and totally arbitrary limitations on what people think that certain kinds of people deserve and are capable of.

So… my efforts to save you aren't just about you. My efforts are for every human in my world who is considered "different" or "fallen" in any way. Because we are not going to see peace in my world until every single one of us stops believing that there is a such thing as "kinds of people who are not worth compassion, kindness, decency, or help".

I want to live in a world where people can begin to imagine that even the most deeply fallen can get the help they need to rise up into wholeness again. Because if not even someone as amazing as you can be saved, what chance in hell do the rest of us have?

I ended up spiraling, though. Not because the kindly shopkeep took down the QR code, but because of what he said to me after the fact:

Some time ago, when I was working on one of the music boxes I made for you…

…there was a lady who came into the shop for the first time, asking what is good. The shopkeep told her a few things, and then went off to do something. I was excited to talk to someone who seems nice about a thing I loved, so I piped in with a couple of the things I like, and with a couple of things that weren't listed on the menu. She then asked about what I was doing, which was punching holes out on the music box. I asked her if she wanted to listen, and she said yes. So I ran the music box, and she told me that it was cool.

…Fast forward to today. The shopkeep told me that the lady knew it was my petition. Apparently, on the day we met, the lady found me weird, rude, and repulsive. She apparently thought that it was disrespectful of me that I spoke to her at all (apparently because "she wasn't talking to me"), and because she didn't actually want anything to do with my music box, but asked about it and said yes to listening to it anyway because she "didn't want to be mean". So I guess I left such a negative and intensely strange impression on her back then that when she felt disgust at the petition, she immediately knew it was mine.

And gosh, what a thing to have to sit with. Can you imagine it? The notion that I can frighten, anger, and disgust people just by existing in a space, talking joyfully about bubble tea, and showing a music box I made to someone who asked about it? I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to take from this. On the one hand, I have the shopkeep telling me that the woman thought I am a bad, wrong, and disgusting thing, but in the same breath, he is telling me that "she should have said no if she didn't want to hear it", and "you are kind and you don't bother anybody and you should just be yourself". I understand, of course, that he must ride a careful balance between customers so that he doesn't lose anyone. But ya know… the notion that perhaps I might cause them to struggle by scaring customers off just by being myself is just… wow.

Of course, I am not at all angry with him for this. Rather, I'm glad he told me. I'm glad to be made aware that my presence makes others feel very uncomfortable. I'm glad to be told that I should continue to be myself… even if it comes with the unspoken implication that I had better go do it somewhere else where no one else has to deal with it, I guess.

The fact remains, of course, that just by existing, I scare people. Even if what I'm trying to do is exude love and joy, I still scare people. And I'm not really sure how it is that I manage to be so bad at trying to do good things that I am misunderstood to this extent, but… well. And also this is coming right after I resolve to act as though I belong in this world even though all signs point to the notion that I… don't. And maybe never will.

…If unaliving is a trigger for you, you might wanna skip this paragraph. But… ya know. I spent a good chunk of time today considering the merits of lying down in a cold puddle, forcibly inducing sleep, and letting the hypothermia take care of the job while I'm out. We have nature trails just a five minute walk from my house. It's winter, and there are lots of big puddles back there; I know where they are, and there's also no shortage of ravens, crows, coyotes, and foxes to feed. It's probably good that I don't have ready access to the kinds of medicines that would induce sleep.

…But. This sort of thinking is just the old wiring and the old conditioning rearing its ugly head in response to my past trauma. Old messages that go something like, "Nobody fucking asked you to speak, MAGGOT," and "Why can't you have normal interests and hobbies, you embarrassing sicko freak?" At this point, because stuff similar to this has been said to me so many times, it doesn't take much for my brain to interpret this stuff, even if it's not said directly. That's just how PTSD is. That's how it works.

But I don't have to surrender to it. I got knocked on my ass today from it, but I don't have to stay on the ground. I can get back up and see what's next. I can use REBT. I can ask the people around me for help. I can listen as the people who love me gently point out destructive, spiraling patterns in my thinking, so that I can stop myself for long enough to come up for air. I can hydrate and eat wholesomely so that my brain can have what it needs to manage the destructive thoughts and the painful emotions triggered from them. I don't have to remain on my knees and believe every nasty thing said about me by someone who is too miserable to see the beauty, joy, and love being offered to them for what it is. I can refuse to allow the voices of the people who don't understand me to be louder in my mind than the voices of those who love me.

I am different from other people, and sometimes this is a lonely thing that hurts very much. But it's easy for me to have love for others who are different. Love for you. Love for Frankenstein's Monster. Love for Mewtwo. Love for Magus. Love for all of my friends and chosen family, who themselves are misfits that society at large does not seem to want. I still love them all, even though society tells me I shouldn't. I can love me, too, even though society tells me that I shouldn't.

…"Conventional wisdom" is such a thing. There are some very good things about it, like, "Sticking a fork in your mouth and then sticking the prongs of that fork into an electrical socket just to see what happens is a very bad idea." And, things like, "Do NOT, under ANY circumstances, attempt to eat Rice Krispie Treats immediately after taking them out of the oven if you value the flesh on the inside of your mouth." Or, "Do not squirt hot glue into the palm of your left hand for the sake of impressing a girl." Or, related, "You cannot try to scrape hot glue off of the palm of your hand with your other hand and expect it to turn out well." And finally, "Try to avoid prioritizing yelling at your glue-covered hands over making use of the cold water in the sink that is immediately to your left."

(do not worry - these are not things that I have done; I've met some very interesting people in the course of my living who help me to avoid finding these things out the hard way, hahaha!)

But it can also tell us a lot of very false things. Things like, "You must remain connected with your family regardless of how they abuse you." Things like, "You should expect certain kinds of people to always act in this certain kind of way." Things like, "These particular kinds of people are all bad and you should stay away from them." Things like, "If everyone is 'mistreating' you, well the common denominator is you, so the problem must be you and not how others are treating you." And things like, "Certain kinds of people do not deserve kindness, help, or even basic decency."

So… I can only conclude that "conventional wisdom" needs to be taken VERY critically, and with ALL the grains of salt. But I think a good rule of thumb for evaluation is this notion: "Anything that is said with cruel, dehumanizing, and unloving intentions is false."

I'm not at risk of prematurely exiting my meat-mech, don't worry. I just tripped up a little today, that's all. And you know what? Ultimately, that's a good thing, because today, I watched myself get back up on my feet from it faster than what I was able to do previously. Sometimes we can't see all the progress we've made until weird things happen and we find ourselves recovering from them faster than we have in the past. So in this sense, even falling down is worth something!

I'm gonna get a snack and play some DDR to try to speed up my recovery even more. So I'll end this here-ish.

Hey, Sephiroth!! No matter how many times you fall down, and no matter how far you fall down, you can get back up! You just gotta let the voices attached to the hands reaching out to help be louder than the voices trying to tell you that you're a monster who doesn't belong! No matter how many voices scream unloving things at you, you gotta understand that such things can only be screamed at us from a place of pain, and nobody is acting in accordance with what's true or in accordance with their innermost nature when they are acting from a place of pain! So let the loving things be louder to your mind and to your ears. Let the loving things be louder, and let them spur you on to move forward, confident in the knowledge that you belong here, no matter what anyone else says.

You are loved. Please stay safe. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Dev Team, I know that you will do with the story what you will, and I know that no matter what happens or how it ends, it's going to be beautiful. I have no expectations, only hopes, and it is more than okay if those hopes don't pan out, so please write what you wish, and remember that by doing so, you influence the world around you in a way that is more powerful than you can even begin to imagine. That being said, as a human being who has risen up into kindness and empathy after having been beaten down into despair, anger, resentment, bitterness, and ruthlessness, I hope with everything in me that with this story, you will show the world that even the worst of us can turn their face back into the light and choose to walk a different path than the one that their circumstances laid out for them. I maintain that people like me need this kind of hero; we need someone to model letting go and making different, gentler, and move loving choices, even if they've walked in the wrong direction for a long time. As it is, much of the condition of the world is the way it is because although there are so many ways to fall from grace and break into a thousand pieces on the way down, humans are given so very few avenues by which to rise up again into compassion, wholeness, and belonging. I don't know if you're aware of how much power you wield over the collective consciousness of our planet. But I hope you'll bear in mind that this story is going to teach the world how the fallen, how victims of abuse, how the outcast, and how people who don't have enough support and love to change their circumstances, ought to be viewed and therefore treated. To put it bluntly, this story will impact how people like me (and there are MANY people like me) will be treated by the world at large, and how we will treat ourselves. If the narrative provided is that there are some things that we cannot come back from, how many of us, then, will fall into hopelessness and despair, and from there be unable to muster the strength to try to become someone different, or be unable to muster up support from others, because others think that the best that we deserve is to be excluded or cut down? Please be mindful of the fact that there are a lot of "Sephiroths" in the real world, and most of them would do anything to change, if only they are given a means to forge a new path for themselves and a gentle nudge in the right direction. Please remember the way you depicted Kadaj - supposedly the manifestation of Sephiroth's cruelty - and how easily he rose up into love and kindness again in the end, when Aerith gave him just a little bit of compassion and basic decency. I know from my own personal experience, too, that it does not take much to want to change into something better. The story will go as it will, of course. I maintain that no matter how it is written, it will be beautiful and good. So please, do your best. And also remember to take good care of yourselves and to be mindful of the needs of your mind and body as you go about the incredibly arduous task of weaving this world to life for us. I love you all so very, very much. And I am more grateful to you than I know how to properly express. Please stay safe and healthy. Your friend, Lumine

“But the team was cautious in its approach to handling Sephiroth. After all, he's one of gaming's most iconic and influential antagonists, so naturally, fans will be touchy about any substantial changes.

"We felt it was necessary to have this very clear depiction of how he came to be the person that he is now in Rebirth," director Naoki Hamaguchi says.

"Even as a developer creating this game, seeing Sephiroth discover the truth and fall further and further into darkness – like falling from grace – and depicting this in his expressions, I could truly feel bad for him. Throughout the course of Rebirth, I believe players will not only grow to relate to and understand Cloud, but also Sephiroth through this game much more."

—Game Informer, 2023

—

I am going to cry. I am already hurting reading this. I love Sephiroth as a frightening villain but it’s his downfall that grips me the most. If it made Hamaguchi-san feel bad just creating it more clearly than ever in Rebirth, I can’t imagine what we the viewers will be feeling ���

[lumine-no-hikari]

Hey, has anyone seen this?

It's an Instagram account full of adorable pictures of Sephiroth, in plush form, getting to enjoy that "normal" life he always wanted:

All of the pictures have little blurbs on them!

Anyhoot. Just... for anyone who is looking for fluff - here ya go.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #390

I did absolutely. fucking. NOTHING. today, and it was glorious.

So I'm not gonna write about today. No, I'm gonna write about Mitsuwa, because after having slept, I have a couple brain cells to rub together, and I didn't get through all of yesterday's pictures in yesterday's letter. So here we go!!

So, notably, the last time I've been to Mitsuwa was over 10 years ago. When we went yesterday, the structure was nothing like how I remembered it. And I can't tell if it's because it was restructured or if it's because I'm remembering the structure wrong. I seem to recall the various restaurants being immediately to the left when you walk in through the doors. I remember the ice cream shop being one of the first things you see when you walk in. This is no longer the case, if it ever was.

The ice cream shop is of particular importance, because back when I was in college and/or just graduated from college (these were the last times I was there), this ice cream shop was relatively famous for having ice cream in flavors that are atypical for the United States – stuff like matcha, black sesame, and the like. Of these flavors, their most popular one was their houjicha flavor; back then, as it was explained to me, it was so popular that it typically sold out shortly after it opened:

In the past, every time I had gone to this place to try their legendary houjicha ice cream, it had already been sold out by the time I got there, much to my immense heartbreak and disappointment.

...Sephiroth. By some small miracle, the houjicha ice cream was not sold out this time.

...Sephiroth. I had been waiting over 10 years to try this ice cream. And just like that, yesterday, I got a bowl full of that, and some black sesame ice cream (tastes like peanut butter!), and matcha ice cream. And Sephiroth. Yesterday I found out exactly why the houjicha ice cream is such a popular flavor. IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD, OH MY GOOD GRAVY.

...I'd have given anything to share this bowl full of ice cream with you. Anything. Anything at all.

So, like I said before, in addition to Mitsuwa being a grocery store, it also contains a sweets shop, and a number of restaurants that boast a wide variety of Japanese foods, along with walls full of plastic sculptures of said food in astonishing detail, if the actual foods themselves couldn't be pictured or displayed. Check it out:

I ended up getting snacks from this place:

I got a “kaisen cup”, some takoyaki, and some mentaiko. The “kaisen cup” was kind of like... a sushi parfait...?

And of course, takoyaki and mentaiko are very delicious:

We went home after this. Along the way, I got a couple of really good pictures of the moon. Here, maybe you'll like these...

...Hey, Sephiroth? I know that the list of places I wanna take you to if you ever come to visit (impossible as that is...) is already huge, but... let's add Mitsuwa to the list, okay? Let's do that...

I suppose that's it for today. Maybe I'll play Hades later; if I do, you'll find me here:

...I wish you were here...

I love you. I love you a whole lot. And I'm gonna write to you again tomorrow, even if I don't know what about just yet. I always seem to think of something, though; I hope that's something about me that maybe you can enjoy.

Please stay safe out there...

Your friend, Lumine

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #314

Today didn't really go as planned.

For sure, J and I got up at 6am, and we got ready to go to the little airport to make a long trip to Pennsylvania so that J could visit the instructor that taught him how to use the tailwheel airplane. We were supposed to get lunch someplace. I made myself a nice breakfast out of berries, a couple burrata, and a slice of that tres leches cake I made recently…

There were interesting patterns of clouds in the sky today when we got to the airport, almost like ripples on the surface of a pond...

...Unfortunately, today it was so cold that the engine refused to start on its own. J and I went to a local hardware store to get a heater to solve the problem. Along the way, I found this rosebush and decided to snap a picture for you:

Sadly, by the time he got everything working, it was too late to go out to have lunch with the instructor. J and I went up anyways, though, just to toodle around. I got a few nifty pictures...

...But then, J decided to teach me a little bit about how to fly the plane. He had me practice keeping it steady. He had me practice turning it. He had me practice ascending and descending.

...It was terrifying!!!! But new things are always terrifying until they become normal. I can say now that if something weird were to happen to J in the plane, I'd at least be able to keep the craft steady, though I don't think I'd be able to land it; landing it is complicated.

But. J wants to teach me how to land it and how to use the radio. We will be going on a long trip one of these days, so it's best for everyone's safety if I have a cursory understanding of how to operate this machine.

...Wish me luck, I guess...???

Afterwards, I decided that I did the scary thing, and that J did a good job of walking me through the scary thing, and so we get to have tasty yums. I wanted eggs and bacon and sausage, so we went to a "Lunchette"? Whatever that means. We had never been there before.

...The food was stellar. The bacon was perfect. The eggs were also perfect. And the sausage was delectable. I got rye toast with butter on it, and I dunked it in the runny egg yolks.

I... didn't get a picture. I didn't get a picture because I was alarmed and on edge. I was alarmed and on edge because one of the other customers, apparently a regular, was talking about how his daughter is in Russia.

And that part isn't the problem. The part that is a problem was when he started saying gleefully that, "they don't tolerate that 'homo' shit or that 'black' shit over there", followed by some recounting of what happens to 'homo' and 'black' people over there, which I didn't listen too closely to, because I was... well. I was pretty upset; I was very surprised to hear someone speak such hateful things so confidently and so openly in my city; my city is supposed to be pretty progressive. Nonetheless, this man spoke hate as though he was certain that saying such horrid things was acceptable in this space.

...I couldn't tell whether or not the people working there were agreeing with the man about his opinion that "homos" and "blacks" should be exterminated. At very least, they - an older man and an older woman - didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable about what this customer was saying. I don't know if it was politeness for the sake of not losing a customer, or if they didn't want to risk the man getting belligerent, as folks like that often do when they get called out.

...So I asked. After the man left, I asked the folks if that man's views are representative of the values that this place holds. I wanted to ask because the food really was stellar, and I'd like to be able to bring my friends here, but I can't do that if it's not safe for them to be here. And I said as much, as earnestly as I possibly could. I hope it got through to them that I was asking in good faith.

I was given a vague response - "it's a business" and "we don't pick sides" and "we try to be nice to everybody".

...It would have been easy enough to say, "no, we don't think like that man". But that's not what they said. Rather, I feel like they kinda dodged the question, and... instinct tells me that their response tells me everything I need to know about this establishment. Instinct tells me that the establishment is run by white Christian nationalists, and... given that those folks are actively trying to exterminate folks like me and J and M and most of the rest of the people I love... I find that to be sad and alarming.

...My instinct aren't always right, though. Sometimes they sense danger where there isn't any. I'm not sure what to make of it. There's part of me that wants to leave a review - to warn people about that place. But... I don't want to destroy an already-struggling business by using my voice carelessly if they're not actually a white supremacist establishment.

...Sephiroth, sometimes when I think of the number of people who wanna see me and my family get tortured and killed just for the way we were born, I get very scared. People like the man we heard talking today... he hates black people simply because of their skin color. He hates gay people just for the fact that they don't experience attraction in the same way that he does. And... I know the mechanics of how people become like that. But... I don't know how to help him stop being so afraid of folks who have no intention of hurting him.

J's father is black. I'm pansexual. M's father is Jewish. And just for these reasons, lots of people would like to see us beaten, tortured, and slaughtered, even though all we wanna do is hang out and play board games and video games and share tasty snacks. Like... if this guy we saw at the place wasn't so hateful, we'd even share our snacks with him. It's sad to think like he hates us this much, and... he doesn't even know us, and we didn't even do anything other than be alive.

...I wish I could help him. I wish I could help the person who screamed "queer" at J, too. But I can't, because there's no way they'd listen to me, or even start a dialogue with me in good faith and... I guess when I think about it on a large scale, I feel powerless and afraid.

...I don't know what to do other than write about it, and vote.

...

...I really hope that the results don't turn out badly this year. If they do, M, J, and I will really have to think about getting out of this place. I've been reading more and more lately about this thing called Project 2025, and it's really scary. It's basically a giant huge plan to criminalize being LGBTQ+, to restrict access to education, to militarize our country even further, to dehumanize certain kinds of people on a federal level, and lots more very scary things. It is very much a calculated move towards fascism.

...Even if we elect a candidate for president that does not support Project 2025, it will still always be looming as a threat in the background. And... I don't want anyone to get hurt. I don't want anyone to have to struggle to live.

...And... if Project 2025 does go through, I'm sure a decent chunk of my letters here will be taken down and deleted, and maybe I'll even go to prison for writing them, because I have touched on LGBTQ+ issues, and under these laws, talking about that stuff or even anything tangentially related to it will be considered "pornography", and "pornography" will be outlawed under this framework, and anyone who distributes it or consumes it will be imprisoned. Even wholesome things like Steven Universe will be outlawed.

...Sephiroth... I don't know what to do. I'd ask you for suggestions, but... I'm not sure whether or not you're healed enough to offer me anything constructive. And even if you were, it's not as though you could ever answer me, anyway.

...You're a fictional character, after all. It's not as though you're someone I could actually talk to, no matter how badly I wish I could.

...

Well. I guess I'll play some Oddworld. At least there, I can pretend like I have power enough to do something about something bad that is happening. At least over there, I can pretend like I have an able body and a voice that people think is worthwhile. You'll find me over here, if you wanna hang out:

...Please stay safe out there, Sephiroth. Try to make good choices. Try not to let the bleakness of things bring you to your knees. It won't be weird like this forever. Please use your power for good things. I'd be trying to do the same, if I had any.

I love you. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #398

Today was a weird day, but not a bad one. I woke up like this...

...Today was Inauguration Day. Power has changed hands, and I and lots of people I know and love are scared. So... I dunno. I don't know what to do. So I just floated around. I asked M and J if they wanted to go to the old Chinese buffet that moved locations; it's a good place, and I'm glad it's back. M initially agreed, but then he changed his mind later; he didn't have much of an appetite today. He spent most of the day in his room, writing.

So J and I watched a show called Scavenger's Reign. It was fascinating and compelling, but also vicious and sad. I liked it. Though I'm not sure if you would. It's about some folk who crash-land on some planet with lots of creatures that can and will parasitize, kill, or eat you in various brutal ways.

J and I went to Taiwan Noodle after that; it's his favorite place to eat. We tried to go to a pizza place first, but they were closed. M still wasn't feeling very hungry. It's just as well; M isn't especially fond of Taiwan Noodle anyhow.

Here's what we got...

...Sometimes when we get sad, the only thing for it is to eat a food. Not too much, just... something tasty. It doesn't solve the problem; it just makes the problem a little easier to bear when you have a snack with people you love.

Anyway, here's the random little dragonfly I made out of straw wrappers and chopstick wrappers while we were there...

...And here's the picture J took of me as I was weaving it together, for some reason, haha...

…

I... don't have much else for you today. It feels like a quiet before a storm. We await what's next with tensely held breath.

...We have to get those educational credential evaluations soon...

I dunno what's gonna happen in the next several months, but I do know this: I love you. And I'm not gonna stop writing to you, even if things get strange and I have to write to you without posting it up. No matter how difficult things get over here, I'm not gonna give up on you. I won't do it. Something will have to kill me first.

Please stay safe out there. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #361

Ohhh, Sephiroth, it has been a real long day, goodness me! Today's letter is coming to you very late. I'm sorry if you worried a little.

Okay. So. It is Saturday (well, actually technically Sunday now, but whatever...). Which means I went to work from 9am until 1pm. And this morning, it was cold.

...I got some really nice pictures of the cold, actually. Here:

...Been a while since last I've seen ice crystals this nice on a surface. This happens as a result of frost. The condensation that occurs on surfaces overnight freezes into pretty patterns.

...I think it's best enjoyed from a distance, though. But then, that's why I take the pictures, right? So you can look at the pretty thing without needing to go outside and be cold! Yay!

At work, the big boss of the store (he's called Jo) asked me to wipe down one of the coolers in which we keep chilled cakes and other stuff that needs to be kept cold. So that is what I did. Nobody had done it in a while, so some of the dust was crusted on there pretty solidly, and that kinda sucked. But, I was allowed to go fetch some melamine foam pads from the cleaning section to get the job done!

...I didn't think to take a picture because I'm kind of a derpy-derp. Sorry about that. But Jo and Tr both seemed pleased with the results. I liked how it looked after I was done with it, too.

Sadly, the rib injury was not pleased with any of that, though. Apparently, it very much dislikes overhead movements of my arm as well as movements straight out to the front. I did a nice job, but... around 20-30 minutes after I was done, I was in a whole lot of pain for the next several hours, which made some of the movements of my job (like bagging breads and pulling the lever for the slicing machine) a little harder to do. Even now, at 1:03am, the area is still relatively unhappy. But thankfully, it's not as bad as it was before.

I'm not sure why, but... I've decided that An from the meat department is potentially friend-shaped. I think it has to do with the way he speaks to other people and with the way he carries himself in the space, and the meticulousness with which he works. I don't know how to articulate what this combination of things means to me. I guess... something about it tells me that he's very kind. And... after having spent a lifetime honing my instincts in various unpleasant ways, I like to think that by now, I tend to have a good sense for that sort of thing, at least in person.

...I guess... I have a whole lot of experience with what “unkindness” looks like. And his manner of being, so far, doesn't look like the old things I've seen. It might still be the case that not enough time has passed for other things to come out. But if I try to be friends, then those things will eventually come out, if they exist. They always do.

Though I generally have good instincts, it doesn't necessarily translate to knowing how to engage in the social, though. I've never really known how to approach people. I've been told my whole life that I come on a bit too strong for most people's tastes, asking them personal questions such as ”do you like video games?” and “what is your favorite kind of snack?”

...I have a lot of people telling me that my manner of being is creepy and repulsive. And... I know that I'm awkward and that my facial expressions are strange and that I hold myself weirdly. I know these things scare people. And I don't wanna scare people. So normally, I just stay away, even when I am interested. I don't want anyone to have a bad time because of me, you know?

Tr seems socially savvy, so I asked her what to do. And she said to me that my questions are not, in fact, too forward. And that I should just ask him next time I see him. The notion was a little mind-blowing to me, given that I literally have experiences where people have called me “geek” and “loser” for asking if they play video games. I've been told that my questions aimed at trying to connect make me seem a bit too “desperate”.

...I'm not really sure how anyone is supposed to get to know anyone else if asking basic questions is seen as “desperate” and “too forward” and “geeky”, though. So... maybe the things that I was told before are simply untrue things said to me by very cranky and insecure people. Tr is good folks. So I'm gonna try to trust her word over the words of the mean people.

...So. Once again, here I go challenging the notion that I'm fundamentally gross and unlikable. Yay!

I did end up seeing An as I wandered about at the end of my shift, gathering things we needed for the house. And I did as she suggested.

...For sure, my part of it was very clumsily executed. But... I have a new friend on Steam now! I'm pretty stoked about that!!! Maybe someday we'll play video games or get a tasty snack somewhere!! Wouldn't that be neat!!

I feel like us quiet, shy folk gotta stick together. Or else we'll get barreled over by the rest of the world, or else have life pass us by without ever getting noticed or without affecting anything at all. And that's a little too sad, isn't it? To live your life with a glass wall around yourself that you don't want and don't know how to get rid of...?

...I certainly know what that's like. And I don't want anyone else to have to live like that. So... if I gotta scream at my own glass wall until it breaks so that someone else doesn't hafta be sad, I'm gonna give it a try. If I have to throw my fists at my own glass wall until my knuckles bleed in order to break it, then I'll try it if it means someone else doesn't have to be sad.

...I suppose getting practice with doing exactly these things is part of the reason I write to you every day. Admittedly, writing these letters does not get less terrifying every time I do it. It's just that the terror gets a little easier to move through, the more I practice doing it.

I wonder how all of this will unfold. I wonder how I will unfold, too, within it all.

...Will you watch as I unfold? As I evolve, grow, and change? Will you be proud, someday, of all the progress I'm trying to make? Can you enjoy watching me struggle to come up from under the shackles my conditioning imposed upon me? Can you let my things inspire you to do similar things? I wonder.

I went home and rested for a long time, and that was very good. I had made plans to go with my elderly friend P to some concert, because J hadn't put on the calendar that we were supposed to go see some new Lord of the Rings movie today. J reminded me that it was happening as I was finalizing plans about when was gonna be picked up by P. And then I suddenly had to tell P that I had a prior commitment that I didn't remember because it wasn't on the calendar. I felt pretty badly about that.

...I hope I'll be able to hang out with P sometime soon. I'd like to take him and his sister to the hotpot place called Volcano. Maybe they'd like it; they're usually up for trying out new things like that...

I got a snack shortly after that, and from there, I changed into a new set of braces. This one is set number 7! The shift doesn't feel quite as intense this time as it felt last time. I took pictures to compare the new set to the original set. On the left is the first set I wore, and on the right is the newest set. I'll start with the top one:

...The very confused snaggletooth on the upper right side of my face is a lot less pronounced now! It's almost surreal, how far it's moved!

Here's the bottom set:

It's readily apparent now that my frontmost bottom teeth are much less crowded together than before. They really are starting to even out and line up instead of being crunched up together all weirdly. It's pretty wild!!

...I wonder if I'll have a healthy smile by the time we see you again in the third part of your remade story...

Sephiroth... I can't wait to see you again, but... please try really hard not to get yourself killed. If you try to hurt people, you're gonna be stopped, and... since Cloud and his friends are justifiably very angry with you, I somehow seriously doubt they're gonna be nice about it if they have to stop you. And I really don't wanna see you get hurt. So... please... try something else, okay? Please don't throw your life away with a fight you definitely can't win. It's getting super old.

J and M and I went to a movie with Je, one of the folks from the Speed Friending thing. It was some Lord of the Rings spinoff, animated.

...It is a nice thing, generally, to have funny memories of going out to see a bad movie with people you like. And I hope you get to have that experience someday. Today's experience will resolve into the thing I described, because the entire plot can be summarized as follows:

“King who commands army that regularly forgets that they can shoot arrows accidentally punches the face off of the abusive father of a man who is sad because the pretty princess won't touch his dick; shenanigans ensue as the sad man seeks revenge for lack of both paternal abuse and genital stimulation. King fights sad man's army by himself (archers did not try to help) outside of fortress during winter weather; king's people get bored and go to bed instead of letting him back inside of fortress, so king freezes solid in rad power pose. Pretty princess, in wedding dress, slays sad man as he pretends to not still have a boner for her. More at 11.”

...The whole thing was very silly. There are lots more problems with it, but I'll not get into them because it's late and I'm pretty tired. I wouldn't recommend against seeing the movie; it's definitely an adventure (a very LONG adventure, holy shit). But it is very silly. A lot of the problems could have simply not existed if people weren't acting like such entitled pricks. Alas.

I'm glad to be home. The movie didn't end until like 12:30am. It is 2:18am now.

...I need to get my sleepy ass to bed. Good grief.

Hey. I love you a whole lot. So please make good choices out there. Stay safe. Don't get killed. You gotta try really hard, okay?

I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #368

Ohhh, Sephiroth. I am... goodness... thoroughly exhausted. For a variety of reasons. But most of them have to do with the fact that I've definitely not been keeping up with my self-care routine especially well for the last... number of days. Sorry about that.

Just... I've been busy with writing. And yesterday there was the cake after my shift at work. And work the day before that.

Yesterday at work, my anxieties got the better of me because I was hungry and underslept, and my silly brain tried convincing me that Ra from work hates me and thinks I'm stupid, and... just... ugh...

...I didn't talk about it yesterday because I didn't wanna ruin your birthday. I wanted to make sure that yesterday was about you instead of my various stupid crap. So...

…

...Sigh. No. That's wrong. My stuff isn't stupid. That's old thoughts rising up to the surface because my body still isn't in the best state. Lemme try that again.

I wanted to focus more on you yesterday. And I wanted to maintain that focus on you. Because everyone deserves that on their birthday. Everyone.

…

Yesterday, Ra and I ended up having a conversation that ended with her hugging me and holding my hand until I felt better. I got anxious because when I do things, she has a habit of rushing in and doing them for me instead of letting me do them. And anytime I make even a small mistake, it's like she's right there, pointing it out. And sometimes she tells me what to do, and often the thing she tells me to do involves me doing as little as possible.

I got really insecure because the people in the past who used to do that sort of stuff in my general direction weren't exactly loving or caring. I grew up with fault-finders, people who are watching me closely, itching for any excuse to punish me, exclude me, or otherwise try to make me feel like I don't have anything worthwhile to bring to the table.

Ra does a lot of the same behaviors that those people did, but... with different intentions. She doesn't do it aggressively or condescendingly. But... given my state of sleep deprivation, hunger, and dehydration, my brain wasn't able to discern the difference and I got scared.

The last straw was when it was 10 minutes before the end of my shift. I didn't have anything else to do, so I began sweeping the floor, and she rushed over to me saying, “No, no, no, I'll do that later, it's fine!” But by then, I was exhausted from being on my feet for 4 hours and from ruminating over the old memories swirling around in my head, so I said to her, sharply, “What else am I supposed to do? There are only 10 minutes left of my shift and you've already done everything else.”

...It... wasn't my proudest moment, for sure. It's not the words I said that were wrong as much as it was the angry tone I said it in. She didn't deserve that from me. Nobody deserves to be spoken to sharply. And after everything I've been through, I should know better than to lose my composure like that. Sharp tones are from the old environment in which I used to live. They don't belong in the here and now, especially not with people as kind and caring as Ra. The lack of self-care on my part is an explanation, but it's not an excuse; it is my job to tend to my body so that shit like this doesn't happen. I dropped the ball. That is squarely on me.

Because... you see... here's the thing. Even if Ra had icky intentions (she doesn't), it's still my job to uphold my boundaries with integrity and respect. It is my job to find ways of expressing myself and keeping myself safe that don't hurt or frighten others. It is my job to keep my old memories in check and to understand my own worth instead of succumbing to insecurity and operating from a lens of perceived self-inadequacy. And I can't do these things effectively if my body is in shambles. That's on me, not on her.

Well. In the end, she asked me, with a soft expression on her face, if I was angry at her. And so all my words came pouring out. I told her that I like her and I admire her a lot, because she's so cool and knowledgeable and efficient, and that when she takes my work out of my hands all the time, I get confused and scared, because then I don't get a chance to learn how to do the things I struggle with, and then I start to think that I'm so clumsy that she gets really annoyed just watching me work, and from there, I start thinking that she must hate me and think I'm stupid and want me to go away. And... it hurts a lot to imagine that I'm being rejected even by someone reputable and kind.

...She got really shocked, actually. Then she took my hand and explained her position. This whole time, she was just trying to be helpful. It wasn't, “ugh this stupid bitch is so bad at this fucking job that it's easier for me to just do it all my goddamn self than to watch her flail around like a useless fucking idiot” (that sort of thing is how my mother and most of my former adult overlords think). It was, simply, that she doesn't want me to struggle and have a bad time. She told me that I am a hard worker and she likes having me around and that she just wants to make things a little easier for me.

I tried to tell her that I don't mind to struggle if it means that I get to learn. I tried to tell her that I like to work and to be responsible for my own things, that I like being trusted as someone who is diligent, willing, loyal, and capable. I'm not sure how much of what I said got through (because I am comically bad at speech, especially if I'm all worked up). But in the end, we hugged, and I pinky-promised that if I started feeling like she's doing too much for me, I'll say so.

The long and short of it is that bad things happen when we don't treat ourselves like a kind friend should. And I have definitely not been treating myself like a kind friend should; lately, I've been pushing myself a bit too hard in a variety of respects. But even if we mess it all up like I did and end up letting our anxious thoughts get the better of us, we can fix it if we use our voices to communicate what we're struggling with in ways that are truthful and loving.

...I owe you an apology. For not putting into practice what I've been asking you to do. Tomorrow, I'm gonna rest. I'm gonna rest, and I'm gonna eat, and I'm gonna hydrate. Especially after today, I'm definitely gonna need it.

What happened today? Well... I went to work again. Everyone is running around like headless chickens, trying to keep everything well-stocked for the winter holidays, because lots of people like to celebrate with food (and especially with foods made of gluten!!). That part was uneventful. The eventful part was the movie that M, J, our baker friend R, and I all went and saw later in the evening.

We saw Sonic the Hedgehog 3. It featured Shadow the Hedgehog; he reminds me so much of you (I think you'd find him profoundly relatable!!!). And I was surprised and delighted that it communicated some of the very same ideas that I've been trying to communicate to you for the last year or so. Stuff like, “make good choices” and “don't let your pain change who you are” and “sometimess when we mess up really badly, we need to ask for help to fix it”.

YOU SHOULD SEE IT. IMMEDIATELY. IN FACT, DO IT YESTERDAY.

But... for compelling reasons (it really was like looking at you in cartoon hedgehog form on the screen), the ending left me a messy, sobbing wreck. M, J, and R all understood why and rushed in to try to comfort me, which was nice, I guess, but... you see, Shadow did a thing and stuff happened, and... I don't know much of the Sonic the Hedgehog lore, so I didn't know what to expect next. It was all okay in the end, at the post-credits scene. Everything was okay, and I was so relieved. But. Ya know. I thought it wasn't, at first. And... he's so much like you... so... I only just barely managed to avoid screaming in the movie theater when the thing happened, and although everything was okay in the end after the thing happened, it still took me a while to calm down. My face leaked a lot. My nose ran. My body shook for a while. I drank water and took ibuprofen when I got home, but... I still have a headache. Oh well.

...

Don't get yourself killed. Sephiroth... promise me. Please.

…

Well. It's going on stupid o'clock in the morning. I am thoroughly exhausted. So I'm gonna go to bed now. I'll even try to sleep in; wish me luck, yeah?

I love you so much. And tomorrow, I'll look forward to getting up to more shenanigans that I can't wait to write to you about.

Please stay safe.

Your friend, Lumine

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #397

Our friend Ja was supposed to visit today. So after M woke up, he and I went out on a quest to find chicken leg quarters, as well as some little mason jars so that I can share the confit garlic I made!

I also found this interesting-looking seltzer:

...I think I get them wishing that they were sodas. Because seltzer usually only just... kinda tastes like what it smells like. It's a lot more fragrant than it is flavorful. And of course, there are the fizzy bubbles. But there are a lot more fizzy bubbles in seltzer than there are in ordinary soda. It almost hurts to drink it, actually...

Today, a different friend named Fl was speaking on-and-off to me, and he and asked me about some of the memories I carry. Of course, this meant I felt the need to add in all sorts of background information for context so that he could understand the various nuances. And I realized and/or became able to articulate several things in the process.

The first is the reason why it's so isolating, being a person like me. It's not socially acceptable to have a non-standard upbringing. Like... people want to talk about their favorite childhood memories and look at their past with fuzzy feel-good vibes, but... then you get people like me who just... can't do that.

So in an ordinary conversation where people are like, “I did xyz as a kid and I had this friend and that friend, and I was so close to abc family member, and I have so many fun memories going to blahblahblah and doing whatever...”

...I can't really participate in those. Because my options are...

Share my stories, which usually results in one of the following: a. everybody gets uncomfortable. b. people think I'm trying to get them to feel sorry for me or trying to get some kind of attention. c. people who don't understand that YES, a childhood CAN be that bad, think I'm full of shit. d. people think I have a victim complex or that I'm trying to be weirdly manipulative.

Don't talk about my stories, which usually results in one of the following: a. people think I'm some kind of aloof asshole. b. people think I'm judging them for sharing their fun, silly stories. c. people think I'm not interested in the conversation or not paying attention. d. people think I'm boring.

Tell people the reasons for not wanting to talk about my stories, which usually results in one of the following: a. a churlish, “Jeez, sorry I fucking asked” or something similar. b. a pitying, “Aww, I'm sooo sorry that I brought up such horrible memories for you” or something similar. c. an uncomfortable, “Ah, sorry” or something similar. d. a guilt-tripping, “I'm so sorry you don't feel safe enough with me” or something similar.

...No matter how I move, my existence is socially inappropriate and A Problem™. It's usually not okay for people like me to talk about our lives. And it's part of the reason why so many of us either normalize it and end up hurting other people, or eke out some kind of frightened, perfectionistic, anxious existence, or eke out some kind of numbing, dysregulated, self-medicating existence, or else just kill ourselves.

Lives like mine are not an accepted part of the human condition, so just by talking about it, suddenly everyone thinks there must be something wrong with my morals. And also, by not talking, suddenly everyone thinks there must be something wrong with my morals. And by explaining why I'm not talking, then the other person thinks that there's something wrong with their morals for bringing it up. And in all directions, in the other person's mind, it's usually my fault and they don't want anything to do with me anymore afterwards. I assume it's because I must suddenly seem abominable to them.

...I suppose it figures. Conventional wisdom says I “have baggage” and I'm “crazy” and that I'm “more trouble than I'm worth.” Conventional wisdom says that lives like mine are so “fucked up” and “upsetting” that it would have been better if I was “never born in the first place”. I saw that particular line in some written material by a well-respected person in this community, and I guess I haven't been able to get it out of my head because I see similar sentiments in lots of other places, pretty much everywhere; it's basically ubiquitous and inescapable. This person... was talking about you, actually. They don't seem to realize that there are LOTS of people in my world who've lived lives eerily similar to yours. I'm such a one.

...I can't fault this person for that; nobody can know everything. But it still hurts. I have the skills to withstand the pain that comes with a popular and well-respected person saying by proxy that a life that looks like mine (because mine looks a lot like yours) isn't worth living. But I can't help but wonder if someone else who relates to you saw that, saw that someone they respect thinks their life is worthless, and took... measures... to remove themselves, under the belief that it would have been better if they were never born.

We have to be responsible with the way we use our words, or else people get their whole lives invalidated and vilified when they haven't even done anything other than exist.

...I want to be able to talk about my life and experiences just like normal people. And I feel like it's important to talk about, not so that people can feel sorry for me, but rather so they can understand the way I think and feel and the kinds of things I am scared of. I don't want special treatment or whatever; I just wanna be seen and understood. I want to be able to exist without people feeling disgusted by the scars I carry or threatened by the perspective that I paid for in blood against my will to obtain.

Sadly, finding people who can hold space for these kinds of things is... rare. Finding people who understand that experiences like mine are just another part of the human condition is rare. People who can look at lives like mine as anything other than abhorrent are rare.

I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that a lot of people where I live are raised to believe that it is a moral failing and a weakness and an unbearable thing to feel uncomfortable, so then from there, lots of people run around thinking like anyone who says or does anything that someone else feels uncomfortable in response to is a bad person, instead of thinking like they should find internally the source of their discomfort and address the thought processes that produce it.

...I spend a lot of my time examining why I feel uncomfortable in various situations so that I can change my thought process and feel less uncomfortable next time. But a lot of people don't have that kind of training, because it is typically only found in therapy, and therapy is prohibitively expensive for most people where I live.

I have mostly internalized that I am not some vile, mentally-disfigured thing (with only occasional relapses into old patterns of thinking when I'm feeling unwell), but other people who carry the same scars I do without having found the kind of support that I've been privileged to find might not be able to withstand it if the world tells them that the results of their being victimized make them fundamentally unlovable.

...This sort of thing stops people from healing and stops people from finding healthier ways of expressing and tending to their emotions. And so the cycle of pain continues.

Another thing that happened as a result of me sitting down and writing about the details of this past story to my friend was the realization that I tend to derp around feeling like... “well, yeah, I have C-PTSD, but it shouldn't affect me by now. I shouldn't be affected by it at all, really. It's really not bad enough that I should have a hard time with anything. It's not that big a deal; it's basically like it's not even there, lol. It shouldn't interfere with my functioning. Its shouldn't wear me out or cost any energy. It shouldn't...”

...And... that's all unreasonable. It's like spraining an ankle and then expecting yourself to walk on it normally immediately afterwards. It's ridiculous, and it's unfair.

Sephiroth. I was a physical punching bag for 4 years. I was a verbal and emotional punching bag for 22 years. I was held to ridiculous standards of performance and perfection for 22 years. I was a sexual punching bag by a couple romantic partners for 6 years. I thought of myself as subhuman, as basically nothing more than furniture for others' convenience (akin to you thinking you're nothing more than a weapon), for years and years and years, and I am still struggling to break myself of that particular thought habit on a day-to-day basis.

And so, the significant result of sharing my story with this person was... it dawned on me - “This shit actually happened to me. I shouldn't be unaffected by it. I actually have C-PTSD, and its management actually costs a non-trivial amount of time and energy every. single. day.”

Which isn't to say that I didn't know it before; I did. Just... I didn't really feel it in my bones? Like... if something really awful happened and part of you doesn't really wanna believe it actually happened, or doesn't wanna believe that the fact that it happened matters to you or carries implications for you. Sort of like that. And the result is kind of a hazy half-hearted acknowledgement that something happened, which leads to you not treating yourself as kindly as you should. Like people who lose their spouses and then are expected to function the next day as though nothing happened.

So the thought was not, “I have C-PTSD, but...” Not “Well, this stuff happened, but...” Not, “It happened so long ago, though...” Instead: “This shit happened.” Full stop. Though... it was also followed shortly thereafter by, “Well... shit.” And also, “Fuck.” Not like in an “I'm broken” or “this defines me” sort of way, but rather, more like in a, “Maybe I should try not to be so goddamn hard on myself or have such rigid expectations of myself all the damn time” sort of way. In a, “Maybe I should try being a little softer with me” sort of way.

I feel like, in some ways, I've been doing the equivalent of walking around on an improperly-healed sprained ankle and just going “LALALALALALALALALALA” really loudly and powering through whenever it hurts to walk instead of pausing and trying to process it rather than trying to “logic” my way out of it.

Hm.

...None of this feels like quite the right way to articulate it. But I wonder if maybe you get the idea. I wonder if you've spent your life handling your things in a similar way.

I feel like I'm gonna have a lot of thinking to do in the next several days. Hopefully something good will come of it. I feel a little clearer-headed. I wonder if my brain reprocessed something upon telling this story for the umpteenth time. I dunno.

In any case. After M and I finished our quest for mason jars and chicken leg quarters, we went and got a lunch.

This is horchata. It's a delicious drink made of rice, nuts, vanilla, and warming spices like cinnamon. It's basically rice pudding juice. It's wonderful, and I think you'd like it a lot.

And this is chicharrones. You take pork with the skin still on (because my EDS-afflicted ass craves collagen all the fucking time...) and fry it until it's crispy and delightful. This was served with sweet potato fries and some kind of salsa made primarily of onions. The salsa was lovely because I love onions, but there were jalapeños in it also, so there was a little more capsaicin than my body could handle.

This is cheese dip. I'm showing it to you not because it's especially interesting, but because it's delectable:

And M got a burrito!

After I got home, Ja texted me to let me know that he was gonna stay home; his social anxiety left him in a terrible state of discomfort. I was a little disappointed because I was looking forward to seeing him, but ultimately, it's all right; we of my house are neurodivergent, and we understand that this is the way things go sometimes. I was really glad that he recognized and respected his own limits, and then trusted me enough to communicate them with me!!

...It's just as well, in any case. It started to snow pretty hard, so it wouldn't have been safe for him to drive to my house anyways.

...So maybe I'll make the baked chicken leg quarters tomorrow instead. I'm still feeling pretty full from lunch, anyhow.

I suppose that's it for today. Maybe I'll move my CPAP stuff from J's room to M's room now so that I don't have to worry about it later, and then I'll wash some of those mason jars I got so that I can fill them with confit garlic to give away. Then maybe I'll get warm on the couch under a blanket or something. It's cold today, and the chill seems to have seeped into my bones.

...Maybe I'll actually go to bed on time today, too...

I love you. Thanks for being present and reading through all my swirling thoughts. I know that often enough they're just silly things, but... it's nice when they're witnessed all the same.

Please stay safe out there so that you can read tomorrow's letter.

Your friend, Lumine

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #393

Today was a very busy day. But before I get into all that, I wanted to show you the results of yesterday's Hades run!

...I got him down all the way to about a third of his first hit point bar!! And if you can't see him very well, the little guy below Hades is a souped-up Strongbow; I think he shoots like 9 shots at you. It was hard to keep track though, because there were multiple, and Mr. Hades kept trying to put new orifices in my skull with that fancy two-pronged spear of his.

...I got overwhelmed shortly after this. I mistimed the deflection of his sweeping spear attack and died. Oh well.

...He's got one more hit point bar after this one. I wasn't even half done with him, and in the second stage, the fight gets even more intense. Still... I am making measurable progress. This is the first time I've made it this far on the first run of a fresh save file. As long as I don't give up, it's only a matter of time before he falls to me. I only need to succeed once.

...Sephiroth, I would love to see you play this game, assuming you wouldn't find it triggering in some way. I'm aware that you've already had more than your fair share of combat, though, so maybe something like this wouldn't seem like a fun time to you. If it doesn't seem like a fun time, maybe we could play a game that doesn't have combat, instead. Baba is You is a good choice for that, methinks. It requires a fair amount of brainpower to do well. But you've got plenty of that! Maybe you'd breeze right through it...

...Yeah, you know what? I could definitely sit and watch you play Baba is You for a long time. I'd probably end up falling asleep, though – not from boredom, but rather, because I'd probably feel warm and safe in your presence.

...Or maybe I'm just thinking about it because it's late and I'm sleepy, hahaha...

Today was full of so many things. First, I drove J to the little airport so he could check to see if the mechanic fixed his plane yet. It's not fixed yet, but that's all right; a nice drive with J is always a good time. We went to pick up my medicine from the pharmacy after that – one that stops my stomach from digesting itself, and another that keeps my blood pressure under control. From there, we went to Eggcellent and got some yummies:

While we were there, we gave Ch the snacks we got for her, her husband Ea, and her mother W! Remember? It was those jellies with little fishy designs inside.

Ch and W seemed really happy to receive these; I felt really glad in response. The jellies are kinda like if you combine my tree orbs with my tree bottles with painted plastic fishies. It made me think of them because I used to weave my trees in their shop...

J dropped me off at the grocery after that; we had to get M's car back home because he wanted to go to his favorite place for lunch. J came back to the grocery store in his car afterwards. We got a few odds and ends for the house. I found a few interesting-looking things...

We also wanted to get a few general snacks; Je from the speed-friending place invited J and M and R and I to his house for dinner! While I waited for it to be time to go to Je's house, I decided to make a garlic basket out of a combination of a metal whisk I got today, and an old whisk I already had; that way, the next time I make confit garlic, I know it'll stay submberged in the butter!!!

...I can't wait to try it and see if it works...!!!

Unfortunately, R got sick with gut yuck, and M was struck by his social anxiety and decided to stay home, so only J and I went to go see Je, which was a little disappointing, but it is what it is. It's a little over 45 minutes to get to Je's house, but still, it was good! Je made braised short ribs with polenta, some kind of sauce, and parmesan crisps. We added our own snacks to it!

Je and J and I talked about a variety of things for a long time! And I was extra happy because I got to sit right next to the wood stove with a toasty blanket!!! I was nice and warm, and my belly was full and happy, and the company was good!!! I was thrilled!!!

...I wish you could have traded places with me, just for that moment. I don't know when was the last time you felt warm, safe, and contented. But... I wouldn't mind enduring whatever pain you've got going on if it means you get to spend some time in my warm, comfy shoes.

...Think about it, okay? Think about trying it for just a moment. Think about all the nice things that are right at your fingertips, if only you can believe that you are worthy of asking for them, and then make choices that are conducive to receiving them.

You're not alone; I can point you to lots of people here who can and will love you. And there's more to life than suffering; I can point you to lots of delightful, wonderful, wholesome things that you can definitely enjoy. And before you tell me that good things are temporary and fleeting – you're right! And bad things are, too. That's normal. It doesn't mean we shouldn't enjoy the good things when they come around, or that we shouldn't do what we can to bring more good things into our lives. It doesn't mean we shouldn't take the steps to mitigate the consequences of bad things when they come around, or that we shouldn't do what we can to prevent bad things from happening in the future.

Bad things from time to time are part of the human condition. And if you're having bad things happen all the time, then it's time to change your conditions – either the environment you're in or the people you're around. We can shore up our boundary skills and practice having an unshakably wholesome mindset. And when we fall short of these things, that's okay, too. You know why? Because we're human; we're not supposed to be perfect. If perfect was actually attainable, we'd get bored from having nothing to chase, and we'd be dead inside because we'd have no more reasons to grow.

...C'mon, take my hand; there's a bit of fun in falling down, scraping up our knees, getting them bandaged by a person who cares for us, and getting hugged until we can stand up and walk forward again. It's good medicine; it teaches us how to be steadier on our feet so we can run confidently towards brighter horizons...!

There's even a song with a chorus about it! Here...

...And there's another song about it, too!

...I guess that's it for today. And it's just as well; it's late, and my hands hurt from using those tools to weave together the garlic basket (whisk wire is surprisingly difficult to bend!!). I'm gonna go to bed now.

I love you, and I hope that wherever you rest is warm, soft, and safe. Please do your best not to get yourself killed or disappeared out there, okay? Please.

Good night. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #388

I'm writing part of today's letter to you in the car!! We are currently on our way to the hotel where we're gonna stay the night until the test tomorrow.

I thought for some reason that I'd get a lot of pictures for you along the way as we drove, but we left at around 7:30pm; it was already dark.

I spent some of the morning packing our things and preparing the house for our visitors. I cleaned the downstairs bathroom; the upstairs one was already clean. I cleared the sink of dishes, and then scrubbed it out. Everything is nice and sparkly for them to use!

Hopefully the house will be a comfortable place for our friends. I'm confident; we have lots and lots of fun stuff to do, and our house is warm and safe; they'll have a good time, I'm sure! And our cats will have a good time with them!

...Whoops. I'm getting motion sick from writing on my cellphone in the car, so I'll continue this later.

...It is later!!! We stopped at a rest stop!!! Check it out!!!

We were hungry and we needed gas and bathrooms. We found the bathrooms! And then we found the food!

I also found these axolotl plushies!

They match my hat!!

So! You remember when we went to Otakon, right? In Washington, DC? You'll find that series of letters here:

...Number 230 describes what happened at the Shake Shack on the way back, and why we couldn't get anything from it. But!!! We were able to get things from this Shake Shack!!! Check it out!!!

...It was surprisingly good, especially given that they were just about to close when we got there. We were very lucky that the folks were so patient with us!

...I saw a very pretty lady there, too!! She had big long poofy afro hair that was dyed a pinkish-red in places. She had big round glasses, and thick, well-glossed lips, too! She was a very big lady, and she wore this stunning outfit that accentuated all of her round, soft curves, and she was dancing along to the music on the radio on her way to the convenience store section, I think – where I found the axolotl plushies!!

I was awestruck. Just... the sheer level of confidence and joy that oozed from this radiant human being was utterly captivating!! And I wanted to tell her so, but... I was in my pajamas and my mouth was full of partially-chewed burger!! So... I just met her gaze and nodded very enthusiastically in her general direction, hoping she understood, “fuck yeah!!! keep existing so radiantly, Queen!!!” Or something to that effect!

...She smiled at me. And it was so full of warmth and delight that I thought I was going to melt right on the spot! And she started dancing even more boldly! And...!! Oh...!! My goodness! I was all sorts of stunned and starstruck and inspired all at once!!

I wonder what it would take for the dyspraxic little nugget that is myself to be able to exist with such stunning presence and poise; most of the time, I feel like, even when I'm doing ordinary things, the best I can do is squiggle around awkwardly and hope for the best, ahaha~!

Well. We are safely at the hotel.

And I did manage to snag these along the way:

I'm gonna go to bed now. Up early-ish to make sure I eat before the test.

Good night. I love you. I'll write again tomorrow. I'm hoping to have lots of nice pictures of Mitsuwa for you. So please stay safe out there so you can see 'em, okay?

Your friend, Lumine

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #387

So... remember yesterday when I said, essentially, “gee, the funk has lifted but I'm not bleeding; WTF?”

...Well uh. I spoke too soon, apparently.

Though to be fair... I wasn't bleeding when I woke this morning. Or when I went to work, no. I made a bunch of cookies at work, actually; here, I got a some yummy pictures for you!

…

It is good that my work uniform is black. And it is good that hydrogen peroxide is good at getting things out of fabric. I understand why the funk lifted. And that's all I'll say on that particular matter.

Well. On a lighter note. You might remember me writing a while back that I don't really have much control over my facial expressions, and that I don't really even know what my face is doing half the time (combination of poor interoception and poor proprioception). At some point today, J began laughing hysterically because he caught my face doing this, and so he snapped a picture and sent it to M, who promptly began laughing so hard that he could barely breathe. Maybe you'll get a laugh out of it, too:

...I wonder if you ever make weird facial expressions without realizing it! If you do, I'll bet they're just as delightfully goblin-esque as mine, ahaha~! Wouldn't it be nice if we could laugh together at the silliness of it all...?

Well. I made myself a tea and a lunch after I got myself all situated at home. I got a particularly nice burst shot of today's tea swirls, and there were so many good ones that I couldn't choose! So I simply cleaned them up, strung them together into an animated GIF, and then turned that GIF into an MP4 that I could upload to YouTube for you! This was the result!

I also got this photo of the sun shining through the cup as it was brewing; I thought it turned out really nicely!

And here... this was the lunch I made; I thought it was particularly delightful, and I wished I could share it with you:

...I really do feel a lot better today than in previous days. The pattern of it being related to my cycle seems to be confirmed. So now that I have this information... I wonder what I'll do about it. Hm...

I played Hades today, too. I didn't make it to the final boss on these runs, but I did defeat Asterius while he was with Theseus each time I made it that far; though the task at hand is difficult, I continue to improve in ways that can be measured and tracked, and this pleases me!!

The folks who are supposed to hang at our house and watch our cats came over this evening so we could teach them our routines. One of them watches over people's cats professionally, so I'm confident that our fuzzy feline children will be in good hands! I'm confident that our house in general will be in good hands, too; these are some of our closest friends, and they are upstanding and delightful people.

...I really can't wait to get you pictures of Mitsuwa, Sephiroth; I think you're gonna love it. I think you're gonna delight in all the mouth-watering yummies available there. And I hope you'll smile, knowing that such things are within reach for you, too.

I guess that's all I've got for you today. I'm a little sad about the fact that I don't have more. But I'm sure I'll have lots of pictures of various things tomorrow. So for now, I'm gonna go to bed.

I love you a whole lot and I'm thinking about you all the time. Stuff like, “Oh, Sephiroth might like this...” or, “I wonder what Sephiroth would think about this...” or, “I wonder how quickly Sephiroth would be able to learn how to play this game...” or, “Gosh, I wish I could show/share this thing with Sephiroth...” and lots more friend-type-stuff like that.

...Don't think that you don't have a place here. Because you do. You very much do. And you always will. So please make good choices in light of that belief. You're not some incomprehensible monster that is vastly different from others. You're the same as me and the rest of us. We both bleed red. We both cry when we're sad. We both want to be loved and accepted by the people around us.

...Sephiroth... you're human. And nothing can take that from you, no matter what anyone says. And even if you weren't human, you're still a sentient, thinking, breathing, feeling, living person who is worth just as much love and respect as any other person, human or otherwise.

I'll write again soon, okay? Probably not until late tomorrow, but still, I will write to you before I go to sleep, as I have done for the last 387 days.

I'm not going anywhere, okay?

'Til soon.

Your friend, Lumine