#and peer pressure myself into getting sad because of some nonsense | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chefskissbby · 7 years ago

Text

Learning/Growing

Hello again to whoever (might be no one, for all I know. HAHAHA) may be reading this!!! Wow, finally the torturous semester has ended and we actually have time to breathe!!!!! Year 1 of MCM was… an adventure? A learning experience, for sure (I mean obviously, we’re here to obtain an EDUCATION). I realised many things. To quote @kingkyliejenner (a few years late, but…),

I learnt so much, not just in the academic context, but about myself as well. The point of this post is about one of the many things I realised over the course of the past year.

With reference to the infamous quote by dear Kylie — I, too, like many others, thought this a vapid and dumb statement made by an equally asinine airhead (which I now know she isn’t, because the woman obviously knows how to capitalise on her fame and family name — case in point, Kylie Cosmetics). Surprisingly, this ostensibly silly quote that brought about a myriad of memes, was what I found myself thinking of throughout 2017, whenever I would “realise” something. Maybe I’m more of a bimbo than I thought, for having this sentiment, but really — this “realising things” quote speaks nothing but the truth and one I found so relatable and undeserving of the ridicule it actually received.

And the thing I realised is: I care too much of others’ opinions of me. To be more specific, whether their opinions are positive or negative. But because there are so many aspects of myself in which I care about others’ perception of me, I shall focus on one of the most important (to me, at least. You’re probably going to laugh when you read on… like, where are my priorities, right?) one — my looks. Or rather, how I appear, on Instagram. As of now — or since whenever I started using Instagram, leading up to present time — I’ve only posted pictures in which I looked good (or decent, at least). For birthday dedications (when I do post one), I’d rather just post a picture of my friend if I don’t look good in our picture together, because I believe that posting a picture for him/her in which I look good and they don’t is quite mean and dumb since it’s their birthday. (Although I think “bday dedis” are stupid in general. It is a dumb social obligation that is in no way indicative of one’s relationship with the birthday girl/boy, if they do/don’t post a “dedi” for him/her hahaha) But I digress.

Many a time, I decided against posting photographs from an occasion or event that I really enjoyed and wanted to commemorate on social media because, um. Some moments you don’t want to just immortalise in photographs, but also on social media? IDK LOL. But I didn’t do up a post, because… well, just because I didn’t look good in the pictures. And it was Instagram. Where, societal norms have stealthily ingrained in our young, impressionable minds that we have to look good all the time. And us, naive, self-conscious fools (not that it’s stupid to have insecurities), having internalised this unspoken rule, abided by it faithfully. Or at least I did. Case in point, as aforementioned, earlier in the paragraph.

It’s not just the pressure of looking your best all the time, though. It’s also all the comments of appraisal one would receive whenever he or she posts pictures in which they look fabulous. Don’t get me wrong though, such comments are absolutely pleasant and welcome. (And I’ve been on the receiving end of many, which I am very much flattered by and thankful for!!!!! Y’all are kind people <3)

Why is that??? :-/ Up until my most recent post, I found the alternative — putting up pictures in which one did not look their absolute best — unthinkable. Before posting that, I sent it to my best friend (as I’ve always done), for advice/approval (yes, as dumb as that sounds. I mean, idk. Is it??? I don’t think I’m the only one who does this right….). She wasn’t really keen on how my face looked.. and I agreed. But I went on to post it anyway, because I really liked how my hair and legs looked in it. LOLOLOL.

Also, said friend — whose identity is fairly obvious to those who know me well but shall remain anonymous anyway (as will all my friends who may or may not be mentioned in future posts because who knows what will happen to this blog? Whether it will take off or flop… it will remain on the Internet forever regardless and everyone knows the Internet, even with all its boons, is a scary place nonetheless. So) — is one of my biggest supporters ever and I love her so much but I really liked that picture so much I went on to ignore her advice which I’ve previously, steadfastly taken and followed, and posted it hahaha. All this while.. I dared not post any picture that she didn’t really think was nice because like I said, she’s my best friend and one of my biggest supporters ever. If even she doesn’t like it.. needless to say, neither will my followers, right?

It was then, that I got an epiphany. Perhaps a really superficial one, to most of you. But to someone who really cares how she comes off to others (sad, but true), it was a life-changing one. HAHAHA. And it was that I should just post whatever I want, since it’s MY Instagram. Although that’s not to say I’ll start posting nonsense like selfies of me on the throne, or a blurry picture that I took just so I could rant about the rude stranger I bumped into IRL (as I am wont to do, on my other account). But just that I’ll start posting pictures of occasions/people worth commemorating/immortalising on social media. Hopefully, I’ll get better at this aspect of my life (caring what others think) (not that it’s BAD, per se, especially when it comes to stuff like academic matters because it’s always good to receive constructive criticism!!! From educators and peers and whatnot) with age, as with other things!!!

So… yeah. That’s my great big enlightenment. HAHAHAHA. OK lah not really, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about for a while now. Take it as you will!!! This post is by no means a PSA/preaching/my telling you what to think or do. It’s really my reflecting on how I’ve been dumb when it comes to my social media presence, and how I want to improve as an individual!!!!

Till the next time~~

1 note · View note

yoonohnct · 8 years ago

Text

I Think I Love You

Ten x Reader

Wordcount: 1,697

Contains: Fluff

Part 2

Requested by anon:

Hello! Can you write a scenario with the lovely Ten? :D Please!

"Ten, he dumped me."

"Where are you now?"

"Outside SM's back door."

"I'll be right out (y/n)."

You hung up your phone. In times like these, it felt like Ten was the only person you could turn too. He had been your best friend for the past two years. No matter how busy he got with training, promotions or even when he was on Hit the Stage, he always managed to be there when you needed him. You had each other's backs, and the bond you formed when you had first met just over a year ago was unbreakable.

That wasn't to say being his best friend didn't have its downside. In fact, it was the reason you had split with your boyfriend of five months. You stood outside SM and remembered that night's earlier events.

"Oh come on, don't act all innocent! I'm not the only one cheating!" your boyfriend, Jihyuk, yelled at you in the middle of the club you were in.

"What the hell are you talking about?! I have never cheated on you!" you shouted back at him. How dare he try to turn things around on you when you had just caught him kissing a random girl.

"Don't give me that! I'm just getting in the way of you and Ten being together!" he spat back.

"You're delusional. He's my best friend, that's it," you replied in a quiter voice, realizing people were starting to stare.

Jihyuk grabbed your wrist and pulled you away from the peering eyes, coming to the same realization that you had.

"Look (y/n), you might not realize it, but there is something there, okay? I mean for god's sake, the guy practically worships you. I know because he looks at you the way I've always wanted you to look at me. I just can't handle knowing another guy loves you like that, even if you say you don't feel the same."

More out of frustration than sadness, you teared up as you remembered the moments leading up to your boyfriend breaking up with you. What a jerk. Making out with another girl and then accusing you of cheating. When Jihyuk had first asked you out, you weren't sure how you felt about him. You decided to give him a chance and say yes, and over the last few months, you had really started to fall for him. You regretted all of that now.

But what Jihyuk said had gotten to you. It would be a lie to say you had never questioned there potentially being more than just friendship between you and Ten. You just figured it was because society said that a man and woman couldn't be just friends. You didn't buy into that nonsense though, so you pushed those thoughts aside. And anyways, there was no way Ten "worshipped" you. He was, well, Ten after all. He could get any girl he wanted. Why would he want to be with you? From the start, you had told yourself that you and Ten could only ever be friends, so that's the way things had always stayed.

"I'm so sorry (y/n)," Ten said as he suddenly hugged you from behind, snapping you out of your thoughts.

The two of you took a seat on the steps outside the door, Ten still with one arm around you. You, suddenly felt awkward and gently wriggled out from underneath his embrace.

"Why are you being so touchy with me?" you asked Ten, his surprise evident on his face.

"I guess I'm just comfortable around you? We usually hug and link arms or whatever. I didn't know it bothered you," he replied, hanging his head in apparent shame at the thought of making you uncomfortable because of his skin-ship.

"No, no! It doesn't bother me, it's just... It's just that..." you weren't sure how to tell Ten that your closeness making Jihyuk paranoid was the reason that he had broken up with you. But as your best friend, he deserved your honesty.

"It's just what?" he urged you to continue.

"Jikyuk broke up with me because he said that you and I have something going on. He's convinced that you have feelings for me."

Ten looked devastated. It was evident that he felt guilty for what had happened. The reality was that he had nothing to be guilty about. Besides in Jihyuk's mind, he hadn't done anything wrong. Jihyuk was the one who messed things up, not Ten. You were sure Ten knew that deep down, but nevertheless, he remained quiet, the two of you sitting in silence for what seemed like forever.

"Ten," you said wearily, finally breaking the awkward atmosphere. "What Jihyuk said isn't true, right? You don't... have feelings for me, do you?"

Ten looked up at you to meet your eyes for a moment, before turning his head away, remaining silent. You gave him a few moments to collect his thoughts but heard him sniffle, prompting you to get up and sit on his other side, where you could see his face. His eyes were closed, but to no avail as tears were still escaping his eyes, collecting on his eyelashes for a moment before falling down his cheeks. You rested your hand on his knee in an attempt to comfort him, using your other hand to wipe his tears.

"Ten..."

"Jihyuk's right," Ten suddenly whispered, his eyes still closed. "In fact, I don't just like you (y/n), I think I love you."

Again, silence. A part of you wanted to throw your arms around Ten in a massive hug, sorry that you had unknowingly denied his feelings for so long. The other part of you was cautious, not wanting to do anything to further upset him. You had never seen him so broken before, and it killed you to know that you were the reason why he was like that. You wanted to tell him that you loved him back, but you couldn't. You weren't sure what you felt or even what to say to him, but luckily, he broke the silence first.

"The day I met you, I knew you were going to be a special part of my life," he began. You listened intently. "We just clicked. And before I knew it we were best friends. But the longer I knew you... The more time we spent together... I guess something just... Just changed. I fell for you. Hard."

"Why did you never say anything to me about it? You know you can talk to me about anything," you responded, wondering why he would let himself suffer and keep this from you.

"I was going to. The night I invited you to watch me practice for Hit the Stage. But that ended up being the night that Jihyuk asked you out. A part of me still wanted to tell you, but I didn't want to confuse your feelings. Plus, I knew you had liked him for a while so... I'm so sorry. Now I've ruined things for the two of you anyways."

"Ten, you didn't ruin anything. If anything I'm lucky to be done with him if he's the type to just cheat instead of voice his concerns. But I do wish you had have told me. Maybe things could have been different between you and I."

"Do you really think they would have been? I mean, have you ever even had feelings for me," he asked, a hint of sudden bitterness behind his words, clearly skeptical.

"I guess I had convinced myself that we would never be more than friends, so I never let myself feel anything more," you admitted. "Plus, when I started dating Jihyuk, I couldn't even consider liking someone else. I thought we loved each other, but clearly he didn't feel the same way..."

Ten leaned forward slightly, angling his head so his eyes were in front of your own.

"So then, what about now?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Now you know I have feelings for you. And Jihyuk isn't in the picture. Does that change things for us?" Ten's voice was so sincere. He wasn't pressuring you, he didn't sound hopeful or worried, he was just genuinely asking where the two of you stood. You wanted so badly to end his one-sided love, to tell him that the two of you could be together... But you couldn't. Not yet at least.

"I don't know Ten... Maybe in the future?" You weren't sure how to respond, so you did your best to tread carefully. Was it possible you liked Ten? Yes. Were you ready to jump into another relationship already? No. "I'm not saying never, I'm just saying... I need time."

"You mean there's a chance that we might be able to be more than friends?" You could hear the positivity in Ten's voice. It was the first time that he seemed hopeful, happy even.

"Now that I know us being together is a possibility and there aren't any distractions, yeah, I think there's a good chance. We go perfectly together as best friends, so why not a couple? But I don't want to rush things between us. I want to be sure that the way I feel about you is real and that it doesn't feel like I'm using you as a rebound. It's just too soon."

"I get it (y/n), no pressure. Just take your time. I know in my heart that you and I are meant to be together, and I'll wait as long as it takes for you to realize that too." He beamed at you. He was back, the joyful Ten you knew and adored. He took both of your hands in your own, and straightened his back so he was tall enough to kiss you on the forehead. You smiled and pulled him in for a hug.

"Whatever happens Ten, I'm so thankful to have you in my life."

"I'm thankful for you too (y/n)," he smiled. "And about Jihyuk, should I send some of the members to go beat his ass?"

"Ten!" You hit his arm as the two of you laughed in unison. You weren't totally opposed to the idea...

I'd like to dedicate this to my Ten-biased friend, superfanboy19!! I was supposed to post this like, two weeks ago, but I went to Toronto for a vacation and didn't finish until today haha. I hope you guys enjoyed it! It's like, the closest I've got to writing angst but isn't angst? I dunno. Let me know what you guys thought! And please reblog/like if you enjoyed it :) It helps a lot. Thanks loves~~

#nctwriters #nct #nct u #ten #chittaphon #imagines #scenarios #ten imagines #ten scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #fluff #ten fluff #nct fluff #yoonohnct

89 notes · View notes

ilovemyblogsname · 7 years ago

Text

VANITY

First, I want to say whatever you are going to read is nonsense and you don’t have to read this. This post has 5085 words. You deserve better. Any other day I would have said waste your time somewhere else but today I’m on my defensive side, so I would say use your time on better things. I don’t see your posts, don’t see mine. People whom I meet often tell me I read all your posts (count is 3 so people). I don’t want to know that. I don’t know how to react to it. I don’t need appreciation, I don’t even want you to notice me. (then why the hell I do this, right? I feel you and I don’t know, maybe I got nothing better to do which might be same as your case). If you hate me, I can deal with it. I don’t know how to behave when someone praises me, so much so that I’m okay with walk of shame but not a single person should cheer for me. Because I’m not a good person, real may be but who knows. (system should be analyzed by surroundings, so I don’t claim to be being real). But still if you are looking forward to this then something is missing in your life (I have no right to say this and I am definitely being biased). The whole point of surfing, scrolling is a total waste of time which anyway is wasted. If you think social media has been helpful to you, to connect with people or it’s good to chat with old friends and so on, your life is a disaster (again being biased). It’s filled with people trying to show they are interesting. But trying to be negates everything about being interesting. I know, and I might (definitely) be wrong but most of the people on fb are wannabes. The whole notion of social media should be about what you think about society but for most of us it’s the other way around. Few of you might find it outrageous, I’m telling you again you don’t have to read this. I am not in any way in a place to say anything about anything. My accomplishments are on negative side and I know they will always be that way. I’m not directing this to any individual. Although I want to offend each and everyone of you, you should take this as only my opinion and nothing else. I am not claiming these thoughts based on any facts. My sampling unit is one and that’s me. Maybe you are not a wannabe person, maybe you are an artist, you may have good intentions, and maybe you are working for betterment of mankind. But if at any time you want to prove it, you are not those things you claim you to be. Maybe I’m wannabe or not wannabe wannabe person, who knows. So, don’t take this seriously. I’m on my usual rant and right now I’m boring many (everyone) and you deserve better. I don’t know why I do this so this is my last post. Few people look forward to this and they deserve a proper goodbye and it’s for them (if they exist or should I say complex number). I’m out because I think I’m not good for anyone.

If you are still interested in this, read it because it’s getting over. Many of you might like this and share it (2 is many for me), I would recommend don’t do it. I don’t want to recognize your appreciation (but I do, and I try to forget). Eventually it doesn’t help anyone. Don’t like and don’t share, you are getting nothing out of it and you will be the reason of wasting someone else's time (not that it matters). I wish to see zero (negative) likes on my last post. I do deserve that. Any sort of appreciation is not OK with me. Some of you will still like this because they think or I think they think people should know this or simply just because they want to. Few of you might get to humor and joke about this. To them I only want to say good for you because certainly you are in much better place. You should definitely laugh on this.

This is my opinion right now and I might change it in the future. I don’t stand by it. Many(3) have confronted me by saying I don’t behave like the things I write. I know that. I have always been a hypocrite and I think I know how one should lead his life but most of the things I say I might not implement in my life. So, I don’t stand by it (That’s why you should stop reading this). I can, and I will reject everything I said if I found enough reasons to do so or just to heck with it. Few of you (one is few) might want to chat with me, to them I say, “I got nothing for you”. Why? Why do you want to speak with me? See how clearly, I am turning away every care getting towards me. You deserve better. For one last time, I’m saying don’t read this.

I have already left every group on whatsap and I regret not doing it earlier. Likewise, my other significant regret is that I was not rude enough. I should have said mean things to many like when I was bitten in JNV Beed by some person, when I was fired from group of machine design project and when I was told to leave the flat because I annoy people which is true but still you hurt me bad, way too bad than it had to. Not that I am expecting any apology, these events are beyond recovery. I take it way too personally. Every time I have been rejected from interview or situations like these I have blamed myself to be in that position where I need you and you don’t need me. Still I’m not rude enough to say many things. I am rude to many but not to the degree I want to. Its infinity. I want to be impervious, indifferent and careless. And I am not single thing of those. Life is regret isn’t it. I used to think If I had been born in pre-freedom India I would have been great freedom fighter. Because it seemed easier to me. But now I know to whatever era I could have been born, I would always be a failure. Because we live in our head not the outside. You often find past comforting because right now you know the consequences of your decisions in the past but we often ignore that at that time we were surrounded by many uncertainties. And that is why you don’t realize, soon your present will seem way more comforting and you will miss these days. And hence life is regret.

I will never be part of any group anymore. Those fake emotions when you try to show you laughed on the joke which was most of the time copied from somewhere else. You annoy people just because you were annoyed by someone. Annoying people is ok sometimes but taking pleasure in doing that is much worse because it shows/proves your life is empty. You keep using smileys to make people know you laughed. Even though I did it, I did it because of peer pressure but now I find it profusely disheartening. You talk about how match on yesterday or today or any day worked, what is right, and wrong, and you take pleasure in making a point. Your fake selfies with captions like just a random click. Then maybe you don’t know what random is. You posed for a photo, you added fake smile to it, you tried to look good and to top that you clicked the photo which you might say was unconscious (definitely conscious and whole lot of it) planning. And planning is never random. You share those pictures on fb saying friends with someone for last something years and people like it like it’s the most beautiful thing. Even if it is why do you want to tell anyone that you have been friends with someone for so long is beyond any comprehension. But again, that’s just me. I don’t get it because I don’t have friends or rather I should say I don’t need online friends. Why would anyone keep tab on how long you are friends with someone? Fb friend definition should be people who waste time of yours and can waste it for you. Same with buying something new. You bought a car and it’s your first car makes it so special. Really? How sad can it get? Ummm I bought this, I’m rich now, see I can afford it. Does anyone need any car? Did you buy a car to make grab attention? Now they say I don’t get it because I don’t take pleasure in anything. It’s the way you treat yourself. Really, you earned money to buy a car. Maybe just post the photo of your bank passbook then that would be more meaningful than this (however vain it is.). They say it’s a joy to share things you do. No one should care about these things but if it exists on such a scale you make me doubt myself. I don’t know how to drive a two-wheeler and by doing such things you are projecting that a mankind needs those things. Although I can’t afford one because I’m relatively poor and also can’t drive, I certainly feel I don’t need it. My body is enough. I have never bought deodorant for the same reason and I have stopped buying fancy clothes/shoes or whatever. I don’t need those things. It is unnecessary. Same with dinner or movies at some place with some people. Why does anyone have to know you went somewhere? Did you want to show your life as full of happenings? If not, why? Then there are lot of posts about Dhoni, he doesn’t say anything and how he is so great doing what he does for so long. If he doesn’t, why are you? Then there are people posting photos at some overseas location with caption dream come true and them few of you post details of your top school with same caption dream come true. Same with the job you have. Given the chances you have, all you could dreamt about was some school, some place, and some job. Really that was your dream? Dream should always be something you can’t attain. Only that way your life will not degrade. Only that way you will have a purpose.

Maybe I’m wrong (definitely), maybe I’m always getting it wrong but if you are convinced you should share things like these, you shouldn’t have problem of me saying these things. It’s my opinion and that’s yours. You don’t have to raise your case. (then why am I raising mine? right? It’s only one last time).

CAREER

Let me start by saying Most of you are doing pretty well in your life. You “seem” to have cracked the code. You are in top schools or alumnus of best schools or aspire to join one. You are working hard, and you “seem” to be great at your job. You have six digits salaries, or you are working towards it. You have successful friends too (certainly not me and never will I be). You are getting married to the person I don’t even dare to stand in front of (inferior complex). To top that you have creative side too. You write poems, you have DSLR, you draw paintings, you are adventurous, you travel, and then you care about your country too. You are asking genuine questions, you debate on pertinent issues of our generations. You seem to have found purpose in your life. You enjoy your life, or it seems to be on fb and you have achieved so many things at such a young age. I have always known to be cranky, but I hate to see you happy. I don’t like you or rather I hate you is an understatement.

But that doesn’t mean I like failed people, just that to them I am Salmaan Khan of failure. People (at most 2 so people) are following me because I have/had (definitely had) “potential” and I waste it like I’m wasted. I have no interest in having any job. I could have said negative but smart people (like me: sad laugh) would interpret I want people to work for me. I don’t understand why anyone should work for anything. But without work life is so empty. If you don’t work what will you do? Some poets might suggest doing what you are passionate for, so you never work, to them I say did you? I have negative sets of skills in every department. I have negative interest in acquiring one. Somehow, I see no purpose of doing that (because I don’t want to work, ever.). And skills often lead to work. Few of you might tell me to write a book or something. You live only once and so on. Are you doing it, then keep doing it. Don’t tell me. Don’t pity on me and say I tried to help him but he has gone beyond taken care of. You try because you need to show yourself that you are a good person and that your intentions are noble. Certainly, that can be true but help those who ask. It’s my problem and I don’t want any help because help I think is loan at very high compound interest. If you help me, I’m morally bound to help someone else. And I don’t need that. I am already going towards economic crisis. For last 4 months I have been at home doing literally nothing. I tried some exam which I failed miserably. I have M Tech degree now and I don’t consider myself an “Engineer”. My parents have always made my life way easier. They pay for me, even if I’m not a good son at all. They have set my quality of life way higher than I deserve. Many times, to many people I have said I’m ready to leave everything, but without my “important” emails, without my notifications, without latest movies and serials what would I do on daily basis if I don’t have work either. Even if I ever write a book, I don’t want to publish it because one, I don’t like any sort of profit and two, no one has to know anything I have to say and if they do, again I will be morally bound to knowing them. Not that anyone can force me, but I won’t stop noticing. It will eat me up. I have tried not to cheat in most of the exams and people around me have always asked if you don’t value the subject why don’t you cheat? Although I told them my reasons, here is more precise and specific answer, “because I will always know it didn’t belong to me, whatever the output is it can never be mine and if you think subject is insignificant why would I corrupt myself for such a small thing?”

This is mostly going to be way too boring, you should skip it and go to next title.

Given the sets of skills I have (none) or many qualifications I have (theoretically I have many), in best scenario I can be a research scholar at IITs or IISc (to do that I have to clear entrance exam so no chance), with nearly zero probability a writer, I have fantasized to be a standup comic and on many occasions, I have imagined myself to be the greatest teacher ever (I have MTech and I’m eligible to teach BTech/BE).

To have PhD I have do research in some science which I think is waste of resources if done by me for at most five years. Comfortable job with 30000 stipend/month and I can watch movies and serials. But let those have a PhD who think it’s necessary and love science. The other option is I could have PhD in Management but CAT needs way more dedication than I have.

I know I can write on anything but why should I?

I have seen many standup comics in last 8 months. I was considering it and still is. I watched Seinfeld (original friends), Louie, curb your enthusiasm, Office, comedians in cars getting coffee, parks and recreation and many standup specials. I can do it. But from many interviews (1000) I have seen I concluded if you are doing standup for yourself and not for the audience, my life will result in same thing. Why am I doing this? I don’t want to be someone’s entertainment. I am not comfortable where people see me as a commodity. You have to a little bit of people’s person to do so. So not that either.

I have imagined myself teaching. I have always been good at pointing out flaws and I am very good at (not at all) retrospection. And I know how much you should value your subjects. So, I am guessing I could be a good teacher. Even my speech is ready for the awards I will get. I will not accept them, and I will say being a good teacher is everyone’s responsibility and I have done nothing but tried to be. The day we teach not to get any salary or awards we will have sustainable education system and hence everything. But I see teaching as waste of time and most of all I don’t consider myself eligible to teach anything to anyone. No one needs a teacher, every single thing you learn is your credit not any teacher’s. Good teachers are overrated. They are the ones who are blessed with satisfaction of doing good with life. They should be thankful not the other way around.

I considered social work too. I tried to apply for Teach for India. I did complete four sections of application process and then there was an essay section. First topic was about a situation where you lead team and how you achieved a common goal and what was your role. And I never have and never will lead a team. Who needs a team? So, not that either. Leaders, himmmm I lead team. I handle 20 people a day, I’m so great I know how to get best out of them, I lead from front, if we win whole team gets credit but if we lose I am the one to be blamed. The lies you tell yourself. Everyone works for themselves and I don’t want to pretend I am not. I will only be responsible for my own deeds and nothing else. If I collaborate with you, success is either mine or yours, there is no middle ground. And that makes me not eligible for following too. My ego says I am not born to work. This might be taken as idealistic oversimplification of things, but any living thing is priceless, and I don’t want my life to be valued and compared. And that makes me unfit for any sort of work. So, no work for me, no career for me.

DNA This section might have profanity or obscenity. Might because it's surprise.

Only way to lead a meaningful life is by helping someone else and not expecting anything in return. Only that way your life can seem to have a purpose. And yes, ‘seem’ not have. And what greater purpose than to bring new life (DNA nothing else) to this world (Although you had pleasure while conceiving a life (DNA)). To have any sort of purpose is always way more better in every frame of reference than knowing you have none, even if it’s your false conviction. Because if your living in your own bubble and are happy everything is justified, but again it’s true in only your frame of reference and it’s your perfect illusion. Having false conviction is OK but assuming your bubble is right, and others isn’t will lead to deceiving pride, pride will lead to smugness, smugness will lead to delusions, and delusions will lead to the moral end. If you don’t need any reason to feel happy only then you can be happy. There is no other purpose for any kind of life than to keep your DNA alive. Which means you must choose your partner whose DNA you feel can sustain the future. So, if it’s up to you, don’t marry a weak person. Tell them your DNA deserves better. But eventually whoever you choose, every DNA of yours will be lost or evolved so much so that their ancestry cannot be traced to yours. In a way your life will always be in vain, because evolved will get lost too. So, the race you participated for unknowingly or just by being alive has a definite end. You can only elongate time span of your DNA and nothing more.

DNA is sex. Many of you have huge aspirations and its good. It gives you purpose. But just for a moment think about what if you could have sex 24 hours a day. Will there be any aspirations then? There will only be few people who will not have sex because they were harassed by someone when they were child. Just imagine a world where there is nothing but sex and tell me, do you want to go to IIM, IIT or build a Tesla. Sadly, that’s not the case so we live for that five minutes a day and we fill 23 hours 55 minutes with activities so that we attract opposite sex/ same sex/ bed to have sex. It’s just the way we seduce someone else. Again, this might seem oversimplification, but does it? Does it, really? And that is why I find sex demeaning. I must have greater purpose, but I know I don’t. I know each and every life sucks but mine sucks worse because I know, and you don’t. So, stay in your bubble. It’s way better than this peak point of pain.

OPPOSITE SEX/Females Spoiler alert: Obscenity ahead. If you are minor, do read it. That’s what you will do anyway.

Remember I said something about inferior complex. It’s actually alien complex. Being one I can guess how males think in a certain situation. I know males, but females are aliens to me. i don't have any idea about what they think,how they think. I shouldn’t say this, and I might be only remembered for saying this single line but still. This is my last time, so I might not get any chance to say this to any female in future. “If a female is not related to me, I only think about having sex with her.”

There, I said it. That’s why I have ran away from girls. I will never do it without permission, but I will never have guts to ask for it. I find it offensive and I have no aspirations, so no skills to seduce anyone. I got nothing to show for. There is so much to know about every person, but I am not interested in that. I only wish to have sex. I don’t want to say please, but next time when you females come in front of me please, don’t be awkward. It took way too much of guts than saying to some female. I am admitting the things for which I always felt guilty for. I don’t believe in forgiveness, but my intentions were not to offend you. I’m saying, this is how my body functions. It’s always in my control I know, but most of the times I can’t control my hormones. There is no excuse and no justification that can nullify that single line. So, I apologize but that’s the truth. I am only confessing sins (if I can call it) and I have huge respect for your kind. But no sentence can rectify anything now, can it? I’m really sorry and if you hold grudge, I totally understand. Don’t speak to me then. Chance of happening that is already a null set so I am not losing anything. So, joke’s on you. So, no sex for me either. Love yourself (Ha, Ha, laugh if you got it).

Did you notice how sad and lonely I am. Did you? Then joke is also on you. Because I can prove it to you, you are as sad as I am. But I won’t, I think I have already done that.

Toddlers are God This is not a cheesy line (for the lack of better word). I know god doesn’t exist, but I do believe children are god. Because god doesn’t give purpose, children do. So, if you are feeling directionless have children you will have direction. Creating life makes you humble because you start to think how can a person like you can create such a beautiful thing. You live for first 2-3 years of a newborn child. Then they grow up and become shitty person. And I’m only saying this about me. I’m shitty person. Then you wait for grandchild. Then you live on the memories and regrets. And this vicious cycle continues. You know why we have schools, because when toddlers are not toddlers anymore and hormones are not developed yet, they don't have any activity to do. It becomes very hard to watch them 24 hours a day. They get annoying and they are not fun anymore. So we have schools to keep them busy. We say education is important, but only in thousand gets educated. Again it's his credit not school's.Then hormones start to develop and we introduce tuition because sex is bad and they should not think about it. So, we make sure they are at home only to eat and sleep. I know this is farfetched and I know this is not true, but this is what I think now.

Veg/Nonveg problem Killing life is powerful thing to do. That’s why most of the people who eat nonveg try to boast it. Not that vegetarians don’t kill. They just kill those who can’t speak or run away. So, it’s okay. An ideal vegetarian should only eat ripe fruits fallen from the tree. If you are breaking it, in a way you are killing it. If you think I’m being a typical nonvegetarian, tell me which life form (specifically animals not trees) isn’t result of other living form. You live because some part of someone’s dies. So only thing you should do is be thankful for the living form you wish to eat or ate already. And again, if eggs we eat are not meant to be chicks, they are just result of periods of hen, how is milk not nonvegetarian then? Hence there is no veg/nonveg, we all eat parts of living form, minor or major can only differentiate it but you kill too. there is no other way and you should not get away with saying I only eat vegetarian food, you should say I only kill vegetables.

EPILOGUE (Finally). If you still care what will I do, here it is. First of all, I am going for vipassana Latur from 12th to 23rd of November. Vipassana is meditation technique. But I’m not going to meditate, I’m going because I don’t have to speak for 10 days, writing/reading is not allowed, mobile/laptop is not allowed, I will be given only one meal a day, I will segregate myself from sexual activity for 10 whole days. Basically, to know what I am without everything I "seem" to have.

But again, what will I do? I am thinking in working in customer care office or doing odd jobs just to know how it feels anywhere in Pune. Because for me, everything is an odd job, only difference will be quality of life I would have. That I think I can do. Maybe I will read books regarding existence and purpose. I am gonna bend myself, stuck my head into the place where my shit comes from and then when I am smothered by the smell I will come out for just a little bit to get some fresh air and then go inside again. Because I can handle my own smell any day, but your smell is as repugnant as it can be. So, I would rather smell myself than you. Then if I want to do something great with my life I will try but real mission is to be forgotten because that’s the truth. I want to die unnoticed in the worst place.(some type of garbage or shit.)Every great person would say life is short. But if it is boring, life is way too long, and as I don’t have any aspirations, so you can only imagine how boring my life is.

To end it on negative note, I wish you are as sad as I am, and no one around you is noticing your pain. May you have everything you want but nothing you need. may you seem happy, may you have successful (IIM)children and may they don’t care about you. Why would I wish such a dreadful thing? Cause I would rather have people like me than the other kind. See i am a shitty person. Get away from me.

My only suggestion to anyone who thinks I am eligible is that watch comedy. Not brainless, the one where deprecating humor is used. To start with, watch the things mentioned in career section. Don’t ever have pride of any sort, but try to have a purpose, Live in bubble. Be illogical and remember you are not god’s dog and certainly not dog’s god.

And if by chance you come in front of me don’t notice me, don’t make me do that awkward nod. If you have to spit on me, I am okay with it. Forget that you ever known me, and no I am not and never will commit suicide, because suicide is painless, and I am not used to it, and no I won’t write blog. Soon there will be apps to tell you who can be your friend and I don’t want to be part of that world. And no, I am not deleting my account because that would mean I am not in control but don’t take it as I want to be in control. Soon I will leave YouTube and movies and serials too. I totally get Underwood from house of cards but now i wish i to be the Dude from The Big Lebowski.

I know one person already did this, he stole my thunder, I have planned this for last 5 months, I really worked hard to do so. There are so many things I can talk about but from now on, I am gonna keep it to myself. Someone said thank you, I heard you man. See how I sneacked really worked hard. Well by definition I didn’t use any force so technically I didn’t work. If anything, I choose to be the flywheel. After this I am going to post one latest photo and one cover photo then I’m out and I’m out for good. I think.

Goodbye online friends, adios, aloha, bye-bye, shalom, ta-ta, so long.

I just realised I might have my first one hour stand-up special.

1 note · View note

minusram · 8 years ago

Text

under the cut: trans reigen ends up going to his high school reunion (~3.5k?)

-just a few short scenes, it kinda streamed out of me this morning.

warning for MAJOR headcanoning (fanon ahoyyyy), high school bullying (unrelated to transness!), misgendering, deadnaming, and some minor homophobic language, but it’s really not an angst parade; i just want you to be safe. kinda bittersweet i guess. takes place 1~.5 years before canon

“I’m serious, that’s what happens,” Reigen says, walking next to Mob on their way to an assignment. He still isn’t used to the new uniform, like having a little black shadow keeping pace beside him whenever his student is following him around.

“But how do they get it in?” Mob asks, quietly skeptical.

“A big syringe, and then the carbonation makes the marble swell so it doesn’t fall out.”

“But—”

“I’m telling you, Mob, that’s how they make Ramune bottles. Listen to your master.”

“Reigen-shishou, I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Reigen?” a woman says from behind him, “Reigen from Saffron High, is that you?”

Reigen can’t move, petrified by panicked shock that someone from back then has recognized him, even after everything; he loses his chance to abscond when she comes around to stand in front of him. Oh fucking hell, it’s Ooka Minami. She was in his class all through high school. He hated high school.

“Hey! Airi-chan! I can’t believe it’s you! Wow you got butch—look at that suit! Guess you really were batting for the other team, ne?”

Then she laughs. And that would be why.

“Gosh, Minami-chan, it’s been years!” Reigen gushes, “And it’s so great to run into each other, but I have to be going, so sorry; huge deadline, business to deal with, you know how it is...” he says, sweat popping up as he manoeuvers to make his belated escape.

“It’s okay, Shishou, I can deal with the spirit. You talk to your friend,” Mob says, extraordinarily and unhelpfully obtuse. If Reigen isn’t going to be able to get out of this conversation he at least doesn’t want Mob hanging around to hear it. Reigen shoos him off, and Mob goes silently into the park to deal with whatever’s been bothering the retirees who sit on the benches there every afternoon. It’ll be fine; this job is small fry, nothing he hasn’t handled before.

“Spirit? ...Shishou?” Ooka asks, skeptical.

“Yes,” Reigen says shortly, “I run an exorcism agency. He’s my student. We have a job. So I should really—”

“Spooky Airi-chan deals with ghosts now? And you were always such a skeptic.”

“Well, it’s a living,” he says, resigned to at least a few niceties. “And you?”

“I’m just out taking care of some errands, picking up stuff for dinner tonight. I know, it’s a little late, but running a household is hard work, especially with two kids around the house. You know how it is,” she says, with a gloating smile.

“I can’t say that I do,” Regein replies, light and dry.

“Oh, you’re not married?”

“No.”

“Better get on that, christmas cake.”

“Thanks for the advice. Well, Minami-chan, this has been spectacularly fun, but unfortunately I do have to go, sorry.”

“Oh, no problem. It was nice to catch up! Do you have a business card?”

“According to social convention,” he says, reluctantly digging out the case to hand one over, “I must admit that I do.” Ooka takes it and skims the contents greedily before tucking it in her wallet.

“I’d return the favour, but I don’t have any. After all, I’m a housewife,” she says with a sweet smile, the same one from back then, when she’d asked him if he had a crush on her in front of the entire class.

“Congratulations. I really must be off now, Minami-chan.”

“Bye, Airi-chan! See you soon!”

Unlikely, Reigen snarls in his head, and “Have a nice day,” pleasantly outside it, face smooth and bland as he turns to go find Mob.

Either there was nothing here or Mob’s taken care of it already, because the kid is being mobbed by a bunch of geezers that practically totter on their feet. Surrounded, he doesn’t notice Reigen until Reigen’s gently elbowed his way to the centre of the throng of old people cooing over Mob’s adorable face. If his student were half as popular with people his own age as he is with grandparents, Reigen might have to do something to prevent his esper from succumbing to the peer pressure of spending time with people not fourteen years his senior.

Reigen tows Mob to freedom, says goodbye to the group, collects payment from the park manager, and sets off back to the office, Mob beside him.

He shoves his hands in his pockets and hears his heartfelt desire for Mob not to mention the encounter like a chant in his head.

“Who was that?” Mob asks, dashing his hopes. Reigen blows breath out through his nose, and answers:

“An old classmate.”

“A classmate?”

“From high school.”

“Oh. Was it nice, to see her again?”

“It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Why did she call you -chan?”

“Ahh, it’s an old joke from high school. You… had to be there, ha.”

A joke—yeah, sure.

That’s a good word for it.

-------

A week later, the office gets a letter from his alma mater, and Reigen regrets. Why didn’t he just lie? Nobody from Saffron would ever have thought about him again, but now that Ooka has his contact information it seems he’s been brought back into the mailing list’s fold.

It’s probably about money, isn’t that the sort of correspondence you get from high school?

He opens it; it’s an invitation to his ten-year class reunion, happening soon. It’s a bit late notice, but from the date printed in the corner of the photocopied sheet the rest of the letters were sent out months ago.

Reigen smirks as he balls up the page; there’s nothing in the world that could make him go to that shitshow.

But when he reads the second one, he drops into his seat.

-------

Reigen toys with the zipper on his jacket, sitting on the edge of his bed, ready to hang up if the wrong person answers the phone. He’s relieved when his target picks up on his first try.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Ma.”

“Arataka! Have you finally learned to call me without wild horses dragging you to the phone?”

He lets out a silent sigh and shifts on the mattress to lean on his free hand.

“No, sorry, I’m still trying to find my feet at the ranch. Are you free to talk?”

“For you, always.”

“Great. I have a bit of bad news, we’ll have to reschedule those plans we have in a couple weeks.”

“But why? If this is something to do with that shady business of yours…”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just thought I’d go to my class reunion, and I just found out. It’s the tenth anniversary, can you believe it?”

“Ten years, really? Oh, time goes by so fast. But Arataka, I’m so pleased! I know it was hard sometimes, but after you graduated I was so sad you lost touch with all your friends.”

His friends, such as they were, were delinquents and thugs who introduced him to smoking, cutting school, and violent self-defense. His parents never knew about them. But they were loyal, and now, years down the line and far too late for it to matter, he finds that he’s a little sad too.

“Well, I can go say hello and goodbye, anyway.”

“Apricot, are you sure? I don’t want you to get hurt...”

“Geez, Ma, what’re they gonna do, beat me up? I can handle myself, don’t worry about it.”

“I am happy you’re going. Fine. You still won’t cut out this psychic nonsense and get a real job?”

“Nope.”

“So when are you going to settle down, then? I don’t care who it is, although I’m aching for grandchildren, Taka, aching, but you need someone to take care of you—”

“Wow look at the time, I’m late, sorry, love you, gotta go,” Reigen blurts, and hangs up. He falls back to bounce against the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

An inelegant retreat, but hey—it works.

He hauls himself up to look into finding an appropriate suit.

-------

Weeks later, Reigen stands just outside the door and listens, pretending he’s scoping out the room and not psyching himself up to face people he thought he was done tolerating a decade ago.

“Eh? A spirit agency, really?! And after all that shit about how ‘ghosts aren’t real’ and ‘there is no afterlife’. God, she never shut up about it!”

“Enlightened Reigen-sama, better than everyone else.”

“Ha, remember when she ruined the haunted house? During the cultural festival… our second year, I think.”

“Oh my god! I completely forgot about that!”

“And when—”

“Yeah! Damn, what a nightmare.”

A pause.

“...I hear she’s a dyke now.”

“Whoa, watch your language, dude.”

“Fine, fine, but still.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I’m with Ooka-chan on the planning committee, she’s the one who found her.”

“No way, Minami-chan said that? I don’t buy it.”

“They really hated each other back then, it might just be a rumour.”

“But Reigen-chan confessed to her, didn’t she?”

“Whaat? No, no, that was just bullying.”

“Girl bullying, brr.”

“I don’t know, she always seemed kind of weird to me.”

“That’s just because she kicked your ass when you asked her out.”

“Ha!”

“Hey, shut up!”

“You had bruises for a week!”

“She didn’t kick my ass… it was those assholes she always hung out with.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Sure.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m not lying! It was!”

“Okay, dude, whatever.”

Reigen sucks in a slow breath during the lull in the conversation, his back to the wall just outside the door, and remembers the assholes he used to hang out with. One less now, and the thought clenches something stricken in his chest.

“But seriously, she’s a psychic now? What a load of crap.”

“A crossdressing psychic, even.”

“What was her stage name supposed to be again? It was something like… sparkling.”

“Oh wait, it’s on the tip of my tongue—”

“Splendid, marvelous, amazing…”

“Arataka!”

Reigen jumps.

“Yeah, Arataka, that was it.”

“Reigen Arataka, psychic extraordinaire.”

Well it’s hard to ask for a better opening line than that. Reigen steps out, into the gymnasium—patchily decorated, brightly lit—and smiles.

“You rang?”

They startle, all four of them, spinning around to stare. He doesn’t recognize them really, vague faces that populated the halls long ago; except for Honda. He did kick his ass, actually, for asking him out, but also for trying to cop a feel on the roof.

“Holy shit! Did you— I mean, how the fuck are ya, Reigen-san?”

“Yeah, how’ve you been? It’s great to see you.”

“I can’t believe you came!”

“Oh, likewise,” Reigen says with a wintry smile, “It’s so nice to hear from old friends.”

“Haha…” one of them goes, weakly.

Reigen isn’t overtly hostile, but exchanging pleasantries is tense; about who’s working where now, and who got married to whom, and whether that nasty old Mori-sensei died or just retired without a trace.

“This has been very enlightening—you all have so much to say, it seems I’ve really been out of the loop—but I think I see someone over there I can’t get out of saying hello to, if you know what I mean. I’m glad we could catch up.”

“Um, sure…”

“You too…”

“Yeah, go for it…”

Reigen walks off, and hears them start up again behind him.

“What the hell—”

“Was that really her?”

“No way, that was a damn dude! What happened to my cute Reigen-chan?”

“Your Reigen-chan? Honda, man, give it up.”

“Yeah, even if she was into guys, there’s no way she’d pick you.”

“I dunno, I think that suit looked pretty good…”

Their voices fade into the crowd.

-------

Reigen wanders the halls, and comes across a gallery of photos, those that made it into the yearbooks and those that didn’t. He’s surprised to find one of himself, printed out and posted with everyone else. But then, they didn’t all hate him, and even if they did this is all ancient history by now; it’s impossible that everyone on the reunion committee’s as petty as Ooka and those assholes he was eavesdropping on earlier.

It’s Reigen, sixteen years old and staring into the camera, unimpressed. Slim, fierce, blond, flatchested, and wearing the girl’s school uniform, but altered; without the kerchief, and the skirt lengthened down to mid-calf. Hair short, as short as he wears it now, but the cut looks different framing a youthfully feminine face. Tall—for a girl, ha; Reigen got his height early in life—and stance confrontational, feet planted and only half turned to look, photograph showing signs of movement in his clothes and hair like it’s a candid shot. For all he knows it was, he doesn’t remember ever seeing this picture before. Reigen can just make out the cigarette in his younger self’s hand, smoke trail snaking behind the sleeve and ember hidden by the swirling fold of the skirt.

He remembers that kid, remembers living that way; he doesn’t resent being that person even if life was shitty beyond measure the entire time he was.

“Ah, Reigen-kun.”

The voice is familiar, if more warbled than he remembers. Reigen gladly turns to meet it.

“Hey there, Teach,” he grins.

“Still with the hair, I see. When are you going to give that up, you look like a delinquent.”

“I keep telling you, Ikeda-sensei, it’s natural,” he says, grin widening until it’s shit-eating.

“Mmhmm,” Teach hums, skeptical, “That old line. You shouldn’t lie to your elders, Reigen-kun; I’m old, not blind.”

“Honest. I swear,” he says, hand to his heart, perfectly composed into earnestness except for the smile still on his face.

“Oh get over here, you hooligan, and let me look at you.”

Reigen gets over, to be inspected by a spry woman, age only slowly catching up to her under the cardigan and dyed hair, arms folded across her chest.

“As rough as ever,” she concludes with a small smile, after a detailed visual inspection, “Airi-kun, you haven’t changed a bit. Although the suit is new, I suppose. But it looks good on you, very charming.”

That name in the mouth of someone he respects twigs him something awful. Reigen looks at her, considering, and though his heart pounds he decides to go for it.

“Well, Teach,” the nickname comes out a little croaky, but he musters and continues, “I have changed a little bit. Or, I suppose you could say I’ve grown more honest with myself.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, um, I— I go by… Arataka… these days,” he says, and is immediately filled with regret. He shoves a hand up against his mouth, trying to seem pensive and patient rather than freaked out and on the verge of running away. He can’t stand to watch her, to see if it hits, so he snaps his head to the side to look at the pictures again. If that was too subtle for her he’s just going to give up; there’s no way he can say it again.

“Oh,” she says, and his pulse jumps even higher with the word, “Arataka...

“Well, Arataka-kun, you look very handsome, then.”

The laugh bursts out of him, one tense bark before he gets a hold of himself and turns back to look. She’s gazing at him calmly, seemingly unruffled. She doesn’t scream at him, or assume he must be joking, or berate him for growing into such a disappointment. Maybe this is fine, maybe he hasn’t just ruined one of the few things worth keeping from his troubled adolescence.

“R-right. Thank you,” he says, a little shaky.

“You’re welcome to it, Reigen-kun, I promise. And… I’m sorry about Abe-kun. I know you were friends.”

“Yeah,” Reigen says, personal revelations forgotten as he looks down at the scratched linoleum, head full of ghosts and memories. Of people from back then, the last time he was here.

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing, “Me too.”

-------

The memorial service for Abe Katashi is short, awkward, and perfunctory.

An only child whose parents have been dead since he and Reigen still ran together, there’s no one to put together anything better than the impersonal effort of the Saffron High planning committee.

Reigen looks around as someone he doesn’t remember drones on apathetically about tragic loss and road safety to an uncomfortably shifting crowd, and doesn’t see anyone else from their little gang in attendance.

Depressingly, he finds only school employees and former classmates with even less claim to closeness than his own.

No friends have come forward from outside the school; Abe lived alone.

This will be the only funeral.

-------

After the feeble sham of a service, everyone parties; lights dim, chatting loud, bad dancing and standard karaoke combining in an unholy musical mess.

Reigen gets drunk at the bar.

Ooka finds him there, slumped, plastered already from half a glass of sake, and sits next to him.

“Enjoying yourself?” she asks, signalling the bartender for another glass.

“Are you kidding me?” Reigen replies, inebriated and indiscreet.

“Oh, well, it is such a shame about Abe-kun, of course. He had a sort of rough charm, back in school. Shiori had such a crush on him, you know.”

“I didn’t. Shiori… was she the one with the weird nose? Or the one who couldn’t keep her eyes of Fujioka-sensei’s ass during P.E.?”

Ooka laughs as the bartender comes back, putting her glass on a napkin in front of her.

“The second. Although between you and me, I have no clue what she saw in that man. He was already going bald ten years ago.”

“Some people like old things,” Reigen mumbles into his arms, folded on the bartop, “but he always kinda looked like beef jerky.”

Ooka laughs again and holds up the bottle. Fuck it. Reigen drains the glass for her to pour.

He sits up to return the favour. Why is she talking to him?

“Why are you talking to me?” he asks. Whoops. Possibly downing the sake wasn’t such a good idea. Well, he’ll nurse the next one.

“Aren’t we friends?” Ooka asks, disingenuous. Alright, they’re doing this then. Might as well, it’s not like he’ll ever see any of these people again.

“No, we’re not. You made that pretty damn clear when we were fifteen. I thought we were, though, until then.” Shit, too honest, too honest. This was definitely a bad idea. Reigen moves to disengage, to hell with the drink. It’s an open bar anyway.

Minami catches his arm before he can push away from the counter. Reigen stops, frozen, breathing picking up from the hand dangerously close to his wrist. She squeezes, just a little, and he rips away, almost toppling off the stool before he catches himself on the edge of the bar.

“Don’t, um, I don’t— like. Being touched, there,” he says, eyes wide. Minami looks startled, and suspicious, but visibly brushes it off.

“Fine. But it’s rude to just walk away, we were talking.”

“You know what else is rude? Calling someone a lesbian in public.”

“Even if it’s true?”

“It’s not— Agh! It’s not, I’m not a lesbian, I like both, okay, now will you cut it out?”

“Oh.”

“What. After all that, you gonna tell me you didn’t know?”

“No, I’m just surprised you’re admitting it to me.”

“Well, I am pretty drunk.”

“Yeah, Airi, I can tell.”

She’d know. He was fourteen when he tried booze for the first time, in Minami’s room the last summer before they thought they’d part forever, trading sips from a warm beer they stole from the stash hidden in her parents’ apartment; talking about how grown-up they’d be, once they were high school students.

“Why did you do it? That, to me? We were best friends in middle school, but once we graduated it was like you just fucking despised me. You made my life miserable, Minami, and I’ve never understood why.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It was so long ago.”

“What the fuck,” Reigen says. He can feel himself getting worked up, he’s always been a terribly melancholy drunk. “Is that shitty cop-out supposed to mean something? ‘Oh, it was a long time ago. Why don’t you get over it already?’ I can’t believe you did that to me, it was horrible. Everyone hated me! No one would talk to me, not a single person, for weeks! And it was all your fault. I thought you were my friend! And after what I did for you, even, after your dad—”

“Shut up,” Minami snaps, low and intense.

Reigen’s teeth click shut.

“Fine,” he says quietly, half to her and half to himself, “Fine, I’m done. I don’t know why I came here, what I thought would happen…” He sighs. “Bye, Minami-chan, have a nice life. I don’t think we’ll meet again.”

She huffs, and pinches his sleeve to stop him from walking away.

“I don’t know, Airi. I just… did. It was a weird time for me.”

“Whatever, Minami. For the record, it was a weird time for me too.”

and.. yep *shrug* that all i got (well, except a few spare lines that don’t have scenes attached...) this is basically just a write&dump

ended up with a lot of dialogue, and none of my favourite parts of ‘high school reunion’ fics. may or may not continue, we’ll see

feel free to point out typos, or concrit, or whatever. i’d actually love to hear any thoughts! (as always)

#mp100 #reigen arataka #arataka #trans headcanon #fic #high school reunion #weird mood #the good stuff

269 notes · View notes

prixmiumarchive · 7 years ago

Text

Working and Brainwashing

When I first started my teaching job, I would often feel like I was sleep-walking through life or struggling with being alert enough during certain times of the day, but I had almost learned to cope with 6 or 7 hours of sleep. I would come home and nap and get up and have a few hours of something like a game or media consumption or talking to people online and the occasional deliberate inclusion of exercise. Lately, though, I will come home on half or more of my workdays and go to bed for what feels like it might be a nap only to find that I am sleeping through until morning. Sometimes, I manage to get up for an hour to 90 minutes to shower, medicate, etc. However, sometimes this excessive sleeping (10-12 hours) causes me to miss medicating. Usually if I wake up briefly in the span between midnight and three in the morning, I’ll still medicate, but if it waits until I am getting ready for work I will invariably forget even if I could squeeze in two doses in a day that way.

Last night felt like a new low with this problem. I think I went to lie down around 6:30 and intended to wake up sometime around 8:30 or 9:00 to have a few moments of interaction. I didn’t wake up until 11:00 when I blearily checked in with my best friend via my phone. It was a kind of perfunctory action of my trying to cling to consciousness. Lately, she has become somewhat accustomed to my falling asleep on her and will sometimes believe I have done so when I haven’t. That was rarely the case before, and it makes me feel terrible. It makes me feel bad for the way it must seem to her. It also makes me feel bad for myself because I can’t talk to anyone for any sustained length of time. I fall asleep or otherwise am occupied. I’m lucky if I manage to talk to my mom on the phone for fifteen minutes a day (even though I live with my parents) or my dad over dinner or something. Then I’m out. Tonight I’m awake, and I’m not sure why that is except perhaps adrenaline from the kind of day I’ve had or the later than usual administration of caffeine (even if in a fairly low amount). Last night, I didn’t wash my makeup off. Last night, I didn’t wake up to shower or medicate. I just kept lying there through until 6:15 this morning. Then I rushed and rushed and had to change my mind about what I was wearing several times because getting dressed in warm weather sucks. I usually also pick out my clothes at night, too, at least within a framework of two options, but last night I did none of those things. And the stress of it just sucks.

This morning, I was a mess and rushed. I ended up having cross words with my dad, and it was sort of mutually to blame and blew over, but between that, lack of meds, hormones, etc., I left the house crying this morning. This left a mark all day long in terms of the puffy feeling in my eye area and the sense of a curtain of exhaustion draped over me. All these circumstances just added to my sense of being trapped in my job and in my life with nothing really to make it any better. The ONLY thing that’s any fun on those sleeping like a bear days is food, and that going to sleep with a full stomach thing is exactly how I gained weight that I hate and which is bad for my blood pressure and feet and stuff in the first place. No fat-shaming here, just a personal body dimension comfort thing, and I hate this feeling.

On top of everything else, my phone fell under the seat in my car this morning, and it was missing all day. I actually get no signal in my classroom for the data network, even though phone and text mostly work, so this adds to my isolation even when I might get a couple of moments when it MIGHT be appropriate to check in with the outside world. That’s frowned upon for teachers to do at work even when not on-duty with students, but everyone needs SOME contact with a life beyond their job, and I usually have none.

It’s a story for another day, but I also had a confrontation with a violently racist student of mine today, but anyway.

My blood pressure is high. I sleep all the time, but I’m always tired. I had started to exercise but summer SAD and this exhaustion thing are slowing that down majorly. I don’t even always get to talk to my parents or pet my dog whom I live with now. I rarely carry out a full conversation with a friend or peer that isn’t through the filter of coworker relationship. Even those I feel like I’m falling down on lately.

And I’m just beyond tired of it.

In the few spare moments of brainpower I have, usually when actively falling asleep or when driving, I have been listening to the “Cults” podcast by the Parcast Network. It was recommended from a number of different sources and I’ve been trying to let the “Myths and Legends” back catalog catch up a little because I was finally within a few episodes of caught up. I listen to podcasts because sometimes I can’t even manage to stay awake or use my eyes to watch an episode of something. I turn on my sleep timer app on my phone and listen to people talk for a while, just to feel less alone.

On the Cults podcast, they talk about the psychology behind cult leaders and followers each week. They aren’t psychologists or psychiatrists but they do research and have had some done for them. So anyway, this is all with a grain of salt, but because listening to this is one of my only outside-work sources of human voice or thought, it has been floating around my mind -- perhaps a little too much. It occurs to me that the way I have been treated at my job is not entirely unlike the kind of tactics used by cult leaders to brainwash their followers. This sounds hyperbolic and crazy, I know. I also know that some of it might be less that I was “treated like that” and more that I “understood an expectation and did my best to meet it in spite of not wanting to or not explicitly being required to by contract or law.”

However, I work at a rural high school of about 650 students. I work in a place about 45 minutes from my home at a fast clip down the interstate. It is out in farmland. Driving 45 minutes to work is kind of gross and a bit worse than less-than-ideal, but I would mind it less if the trek wasn’t out into the middle of nowhere. See above-mentioned racist student reference for one of the reasons why. However, there is a certain three-city-and-surrounding-area radius that I have grown up in and which, while nowhere close to a “major city” status in any one place, hosts enough diversity and interest to at least not be utterly soul-sucking for a young person. However, the place where I’m working is centered around another, much smaller, much more homogeneous city, and it shows.

(I’m considering getting a new job next year.)

But back to the brainwashing thing. Working in that small environment, there is quite a bit of understaffing. There is also an understaffing problem because the school board and other powers that be have no intention of replacing vacated positions unless it is absolutely necessary because they are banking on eventual consolidation of the county’s four high schools which incentivizes them eliminating positions through attrition, whether consolidation ever happens or not. This means that the understaffed nature of everything starts being taken on as a badge of honor.

“All hands on deck!” “Let’s finish strong!” “It’s time to get that second-wind!” “Protect your instructional time; teach bell-to-bell, even now that testing is over.” All these things are included in at least weekly emails from the assistant principal who seems to be the primary cheerleader and bad-cop in any situation there. In and of itself “all hands on deck” sounds positive, but it rubs me the wrong way. It is a pressure to stay after hours. It is a pressure to take on third and fourth extra responsibilities on top of the second that most of us have. It is pressure to take being salaried and getting 8 weeks off a year as a reason to treat it like we need to make up those extra hours during the school year and work-week. One time, when I was in a parent-teacher conference early on, she sort of sprung on me in a comment to the child’s mother, “We expect our teachers to day until at least 4:30 two or three days a week to offer tutoring,” and like, that had been expressed as an OPTION and it is on a rotation where a teacher is OBLIGATED to stay a few times a semester, but the way she phrased it, it was a social requirement and contract for MOST teachers to do this two or three times a WEEK. (My faculty handbook says a teacher shouldn’t leave before 3:15 without exception such as an appointment or such, to show the contrast.)

And so I did it. And so I do it. And so I feel guilty every time I leave before 4:00. And I know that it’s an exaggeration and nonsense and emotional hyperbole, but sometimes i feel like I have been deliberately isolated, overworked, exhausted, and treated to a never-ending indoctrination of various mantras about my chosen profession to a point that I am losing touch with my friends, my family, my hobbies, my prayer life and other aspects of my faith, writing, exercising, and anything else about my life that makes it meaningful other than food which, given the absence of those other aspects of life, is as much a health hazard as a comfort.

#conventional blogging tag #/#//#///#////#negativity /#teacher tag #long post

0 notes