#because i can't just cry in the middle of it all
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the music is punk because it challenges the norm. the clothing is punk because it challenges the norm. the politics are punk because they challenge the norm. it's not a sound, or a look, or a book, or a slogan. it's a way of thinking that puts radical acceptance and relentless pursuit of joy, face to face with a world that wants you dead. you can't put a price on it. the disabled woman that says "fuck it people know I can't hold my blatter anyway. I don't care if they can tell I'm wearing the rehab-provided brief. Get me my bright lipstick I'm going to bingo!" is flexing the same muscles as the suburban white boy who steals eyeliner from his conservative mother. they are both people using identity, to create joy and signal comradery in lonely times, reputation be damned.
not to mention, all of the clothes I have been able to afford new when I was in my poorest moments were shit quality anyway. anything you can do to extend the lifespan of a physical object that was made under the modern fast fashion system past "thrown out, unsold at the store" is a win. in the same way that any pressure you can keep against an actively bleeding wound is a win. cloths are a common class of tools we use to help regulate our comfort, with that is with the temperature or our cave-mates. if the clothes make you feel uncomfortable they are already useless. it is already trash. why not try anything to see if it works? there are intelligent capable people across the centuries who died dreaming of what to do with once gorgeous expensive trendy fabric, that will now look dated and trashy outside of "the spring of '32 when i fell in love with jazz." or whatever the kids are into these days. the stupid walmart blazer you took a chance on 2 years ago but now feel "too X to wear" is no different. either you trash it now, or live with that trash in your home until your kids do it for you, while crying about how they always thought you looked good in that color. you might as well see if there's enough fabric to re-make that halter top you loved in college. when it looks homemade you get to boast and explain all about how you're trying to make shit better in little ways. and who cares if it fails? Aren't you deserving of a little petty violence? when the last time you really didn't give a shit about seam Ripping and just went to town? don't you want to be able to yell at something with no moral consequences? so much in this world is complicated and nuanced and requires forethought and responsibility. Wouldn't it feel nice to have a hobby that lets you get reasonably angry at evil fabric for not doing the thing, and then you can just throw it and swear, and then never have to think about it again. because it doesn't matter. it was already cheep plastic made to feed a system that would rather watch the world burn than lose a shareholder. you eat credit cards a year. you can not hurt wasted disposable plastic more than it will hurt you.
and then if it works you have a cute top to wear around places to show you are the kind of person who has cool tops! and help you ease people into the idea that a political movements starts with people deciding what things they inherited they actually want to keep around. and then maybe one day you cut apart and re-make out of nice quality fabric, with the mistakes you learned from the first one. so you can weaponize your ability to present yourself as ""respectable"" when you have to play the politics game in big official ways.
or (imagine this) you can even use your new knowledge of what types of edits you often make to clothing to buy a quality garment that will be more worth investing in. Ones that are made in ways that add value to their communities will feel good on your body from day one, and you can be mened and adapt in ways that may let it outlive you.
or maybe you elevate that shity, guilt ridden- shirt out of the gym lost and found on the last day of freshman year, because "fuck it- I liked that middle-school library fit. and Its a size too small but I'm bound to get thinner eventually. and I don't think its actually stealing if no one else wants it." Maybe if you make it into a statement piece scrap in your favorite "look I'm not happy about it either!" outfit, to show that you want to fuck with the systems in a "hey we should still have A Library tho right?" sort of way. you might run into the middle school girl who gets to break the ice with a fellow "cool garment person" friend. and she gets to laugh about your shirt deadnaming her. and you get to apologize and offer to let her sign something over it. and now you are advertising the formative art of a local queer-punk-artisan who you know is also out there trying her best to make the shitty stuff a little less shitty when they can, even if it means learning how to thread a sewing machine.... eventually.... hopefully.
also, as a person who has spent about a decade trying to figure out ways to keep kids of all ages informed and prepared and enriched on a budget. "Tug of War turned tie-dye Party" would of been a smash hit, my queer and rural in the 90's type parents would have loved it. after growing up with Halloweens filled with pieced-together costumes that made room for sensory issues and accessibility aids. and family "vacations" taken on public land with what's left of the food stamps. i think there is definitely a market for how to teach your children the fundamentals of serving in a world that might find their misery profitable. without like... terrafing them.
imagine how much easier alot of it would have been if someone early in your life had sat you down and said "ok. a lot of times things are going to be bad and unfair and evil. and there's going to be complicated reasons you cant do much about it but feel bad. but if you feel bad all the time it will only get worse. so what you can do is take what is around you, figure out what it is and how it works and why it's there, and then break it in ways that are meaningful and delibrite. and re-shape it to help the actual people who are trying survive."
then they showed you and all of your little friends how to research, what fabric is and understand why you bought supplies, and then get their hands dirty testing how strong it is, and why jeans have rivets even when you want to sew right there. and re-asure them that it's ok you paved the way to make sure they can't hurt anything too bad even if they are really really bad at it. and then let them find joy and pride in making something unique and custom with their own tools for the cost of cleaning out a closet, and some rite dye.
and then the community has a couple new little baby punks making decent folks smile with little bold fashion statements, and turning heads when they experiment with which parts of society they want to bring into the new age. tl;dr: I think we need to start telling the “I’m too poor to dress punk” crowd that they’re posers. -polyamorouspunk, November 2024, tumbr.com
I think we need to start telling the “I’m too poor to dress punk” crowd that they’re posers.
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WRITE WITH ME!
I will start, and you can use the reblog to continue this story however you desire! The idea is that post by post we do a longer story (but if you wanna post your version somewhere else feel free to do so, you just remember to credit me!).
The One rule: You can't gender the Elf!Reader character.
If you need, add more warnings to your post!
OTP: Mairon (Sauron) x Elf!Reader
Universe: Rings of Power / Tolkien
Warnings: main character death, angst, blood, "you can fix him" plot;
Summary: You're the one who stole the Dark Lord's heart, yet you're dying in his arms.
A Forbidden Promise
"Don't go. I — I cannot follow you there. You can't go. You can't go." His voice was frenetic, desperate in a way the dark lord never sounded. How could he not be? You're dying in his arms, the only sweet touch, warmth, love he's ever known. And he will never be able to follow you to Mandos. "Please, I will never be able to go with you there, please."
His plea sounds like he wants to go tho. A begging, maybe the first time in more than two ages that Mairon of the Maiar actually regrets his choices. In you he found his perfection. And now he would lose it. Was that the vengeance of the Valar?
You raise your weak hand, resting it on this face. With your thumb you wipe one of the tears from his cheek. Even now he is as beautiful as the first time you saw each other.
"I — I will come back. For you, I will come back." Your voice is not much more than an whisper. Yet, somehow you make a disbelieving smile appears on his lips.
"Who would give up paradise for me? For Sauron?" The name disgust you as much as it disgust him, and your face probably shows it because he sighs. "If you're leaving me, at least leave saying the truth. It's too... cruel to say it. For I never hoped before."
That makes you give him a pity sad smile. Ignoring the pain, you do everything you can to raise yourself. He holds you tighter, his warmth is what you need to concentrate even when your vision starts to fade.
"Mairon, endanya¹. Hear the last words of the one who stole your heart." This make you see for one last time the sweet smile that he only ever directed to you. "As I promised once, I will never lie to you."
He presses his forehead against yours. For the last time you breathe the same air. "So I dare to command you, Mairon or whatever name you desire to hear now: learn to hope." I little cry escapes your lips, and you feel his hands tremble where he holds you, for a moment you lose your mind and all you can hear is the blood dripping. It's a shame, his always beautiful tunics will forever be stained within your blood now.
Even so, he won't stop holding you. So you do everything you can to reassure him again. He needs to understand, he must believe.
"Learn to hope." You mumble. "For I shall return to you."
You no longer can see or feel, your hand falling from his face is the first sign you went to the undying lands. But you were right. And Mairon, Sauron, does not let you go. He holds you tightly, in a crying so long it's impossible to believe that that destroyed and devastated being was once Morgoth's heir.
The grief is too much and, when he finally let you, there's no one to hear but the wind while he whispers:
"I — I'm yours to command, endanya. I will hear whatever name you call me. I will do whatever you wish. I will hope — I will hope for you."
A promise and a threat. Because in his soul he knows; you were the only one that could stop what's coming for Middle Earth. You were the only one that could stop him.
So now even the wind hopes. You need to return.
••••••••••••••••
Endanya¹ = if i did the word correctly it should be quenya for "my love/my soul", but in a deeper way of calling the one you love "your everything". In my mind, when Sauron says it he is also telling that the reader is his light.
#i read a reader x sauron devasting fic and decided to devaste more ppl xD#keep going with the story: will you return to him? will you stop what he is becoming?#slightly inspired by “what if lotr was an isekai and you had to rehabilitate sauron to survive”#sauron#mairon#annatar#x reader#reader insert#self insert#sauron x reader#annatar x reader#mairon x reader#i didn't describe much so anyone can decide when and where they are in the plot#i will probably keep writing too because it's fun#write with me#continue the story#rings of power#rop#the rings of power#lotr#trop#tolkien#halbrand#writing prompt#drabble#fic prompt#free prompt
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How I think different COD characters act with kids:
Price is like that scene from Heat where Pacino picks up the little girl from the middle of a shoot-out and walks away holding her, muttering "I got you, it's okay." If a toddler walks up to him looking for help finding Mum, he'll pick them up and walk around holding them as they try to find her: "What colour is Mum's hair, sweetheart?"
Soap is great with kids, rough at first but when he works out if they're the boisterous or quiet type, he'll adjust himself accordingly so that the little one isn't uncomfortable. If he has a snack on him then he'll share it with them. Has a lot of nieces and nephews and he is the favourite uncle because he will let them swear when Mum and Dad aren't around.
If you let Gaz look after your kids then they'll leave thinking he's the coolest person ever, no-one knows how he does it but kids just think he is the single most impressive guy they've ever met. Has one niece and she adores him, that's her best friend. Will lie to kids though, big fan of "I'm friends with Batman."
Ghost is unbelievably gentle with kids, hand him a baby and they're falling asleep in his arms. Toddlers will cling to his legs or grab at his hands. Even teenagers at their bitchiest trust him, isn't the first time he's had to defend a group of teens from some withering old pensioner with nothing better to do than yell at them. Soap takes him home and he very quickly replaces Johnny as the favourite uncle.
Nikolai will let a kid use him as a climbing frame. A kid comes up to him because they can't find Mum or Dad? He's lifting the kid up and telling them to point at where their parents are. No-one is stupid enough to try and approach the lost kid with him around because he mouths threats at them over the little one's head.
On more than one occasion a little girl has wandered up to Farah and asked if she can braid their hair like hers, she'll take a split second to look over at their guardian to see if they approve and if they do then she'll sit and very patiently braid their hair. Listening to anything the little one wants to ramble about with a smile.
Leave Alex with a kid of any age and he'll teach them about wrestling and WWE. He once accidentally spends 20 minutes talking to a teenager about The Undertaker and his lore. Had an entire conversation about the CM Punk/ Drew McIntyre feud with a 16-year-old girl once and walked away the happiest he'd been in weeks because he had no one to talk to about it before that.
Rudy is phenomenal at getting kids to calm down. If a toddler is crying or having a tantrum he'll get them calm and soon enough they'll be sitting on his knee. Kids just take to him, he visits Alejandro's family and one of the little ones grabs his hand and pulls him into the kitchen. They need to get something off of a shelf? They want Rudy's help. Need help with cutlery? Rudy has to help.
If you leave your kids with Alejandro then he will get them boisterous and excited, bouncing off of the walls and then give them back to you so he doesn't have to deal with it. Big fan of that thing guys do with babies where they lightly toss them up and catch them, subsequently scaring the tits off of any mother in the general vicinity. He has a handful of distant relatives that meet up around family times, he get's the kids all hyper and Rudy spends the next half hour calming them down while the parents drink
Valeria is a little awkward with kids. If one walks into her legs then her instinct is to scowl but once, and she'd deny it if anyone asked, a little boy walked into her legs and she automatically moved to scold him before seeing that he was crying and trailing his blankie about with him, no parents in sight. She picked him up, held him on her hip and hunted down his father before thoroughly scolding him for leaving a boy that small unattended. All while the little boy covers her shoulders with his blanket and keeps a hand fisted in her shirt, she doesn't even seem to notice that she's rubbing his back to keep him settled.
Graves isn't great with kids but he isn't bad either. If a kiddo comes wandering up to him in public because they lost their Mommy then you bet your ass he'll wait with them for as long as it takes. Any more than ten minutes and he's buying them juice. A kid wandered up to him once, their babysitter walked away and left them in a store. He finds the babysitter and forces them to call the kid's parents, waits for them to arrive and lectures the babysitter on not doing their job properly. By the time that kid goes home, he's bought them a hotdog, a juice box and a little plush bunny.
I know a lot of people are of the surprising opinion that Laswell sucks with kids but I disagree. Her wife comes from a big family and certainly, one with money. Any family event and there are seven kids minimum. Kate likes buying them animated Scooby-Doo films because it keeps the little ones quiet even for a little while. Every year the kids get a new blanket, new socks, an action figure/doll and candy of their choice from Auntie Kate. The two auntie Laswells are a favourite with little ones, school-age kids, teens and basically anyone under 25. Kate has a niece named after her on her wife's side and she'll die before anything happens to the chubby-cheeked baby girl.
#captain john price#kate laswell#ghostsoap#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#cod nikolai#farah karim#alex keller#phillip graves#alejandro vargas#rodolfo parra#valeria garza#laswells wife#alerudy
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collecting tears - jongseong
jar of tears that were shed for jongseong
park jongseong x reader "y/n"
genre: angst, breakup, the one that got away
warnings: profanity, mental illness/depression, overall 18+
summary: no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get jongseong out of your head. two years after your tear filled and emotional breakup, he's still on your mind but it seems he hasn't thought about you since that night.
I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier olivia rodrigo - happier word count: 2007
text in italics are flashbacks
You saw him in everything.
You saw him in the way your glasses reflected the light as it sat on your vanity.
You saw him in the way your guitar collected dust in the corner of your bedroom.
And you saw him in your reflection as you stared at your tear stained face and dark circles under your eyes.
The memory of Jongseong that you held onto hurt more than the idea of being without him, because being without him only led to the memories of when you were with him, something that no longer exists in your life.
Jongseong.
The events of your tear filled and emotional breakup replays in your mind often, Jongseong’s tired face and the broken picture frame scattered into thousands of pieces in your bedroom. You could hear the argument in your head like it was playing through a speaker that followed you wherever you went. The last words you ever spoke to him ringing in your ears as a constant reminder that your inability to process your emotions and failure to stabilize your mind was the reason you were so lonely, even two whole years after your breakup.
It’s a gloomy afternoon in the middle of September. The weather foreshadows the inevitable dreary, dull, and dark outcome of what your life would be for years to come. You had been in bed all day, crippled by your anxiety and depression, making it difficult for you to make any rational decisions or clear judgement of what you should be doing.
Your phone fills with unanswered calls and texts that would remain unanswered until you convinced yourself enough that you weren’t a burden to others. Something that you wouldn’t be able to shake off for almost half a year from today. A feeling that still lingers and creeps up onto you every now and then.
“Honey?” a voice asks from beyond the darkness of your bedroom. You quickly wiped away your tears and did your best to make it seem like you weren’t crying the whole day. Pulling yourself up and dragging the blanket further up your body to cover yourself as if your boyfriend, Jongseong, was anyone you should be hiding away from. His tenderness and soft demeanor was the first thing that attracted you towards him, his good looks was just a plus.
“Honey, are you still sleeping?” Jongseong asks as he slowly pushes the door of your bedroom open, a slight creak sounding from the hinges as light emerges from the other side of the door, Jongseong’s silhouette outlined by the light. “Hi… No, i’ve just been in bed. Doing some thinking…” you say, trying to avoid the fact that you were just crying and hoping that he doesn’t notice as he makes his way closer.
Your bed dips as Jongseong takes a seat next to your figure, still hiding under the blanket. It goes without being said but Jongseong knew you all too well.
He knew when you were really happy over fake happy because true joy spreads across your face when your eyes widen and you blink a thousan times, like you were trying your best to contain your joy but ultimately failing.
He knew when you were upset because you would sniffle your nose as a way to avoid awkward silence or having to voice out your feelings.
And he knew when you were sad because you’d rather surround yourself in the comfort of the darkness instead of reaching out to the hand that could pull you away from the dark. Much like how you were right now.
Jongseong would’ve never abandoned you. He vowed that he would always be by your side no matter what, had you let him. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” he asks, already knowing the answer but he’s made it a habit to encourage you to vocalize your feelings so that it would be easier for you to process them. You only hummed in response but you knew that you should’ve told him how you felt in that moment because it only manifested into something worse.
He sighs at your response, he would be lying if he said that sometimes he wished it was easier, but what was love if it didn’t have some ups and downs. Jongseong just hoped that it was up more than it was down. You scoff at him. Your anxiety was already talking you closer to a ledge and you didn’t need this from him right now. You were convinced that he only came here to make you more upset and the voices validated that outrageous claim over the evidence that Jongseong only had love for you.
“You don’t need to be here. You can leave.” your harsh words piercing into Jongseong’s heart, a feeling of guilt over hurt as he had hoped his presence alone would be enough to make you feel better but it only made you feel worse and he didn’t know why.
“Why would I leave? I want to be here, let me take care of you.” Jongseong says, inching closer to you but you quickly recoil away from, widening the distance like your mattress was meters long. “What’s wrong? Y/N, talk to me…” Jongseong urges but his pleas of wanting to be let in only read as judgement. Like he was judging you for the way you were instead of trying to understand you. Your mind forces a lie for you to believe over the truth, that Jongseong loved you and he wished you knew how much he did.
He loved you more than anxiety loved to cling onto the smallest piece of doubt in your mind.
He loved you more than you loved the darkness.
And he loved you more than words could say but no amount of words could ever tell you that.
“Just leave, I don’t need you here to think I’m someone to take care of and be seen as a burden!” you say, voice now a bit louder as frustration begins to build inside of you. “Honey, you’re not a burden and I’d never treat you like that.” Jongseong says as he settles his hand over your thigh, rubbing it softly over the blanket.
“Why do you do that? Huh?!” you ask, scattering away from his touch and dragging yourself out of bed to stand in front of him.
“You think you can just come in here and act like I’m some poor and unfortunate thing that needs to be fixed or that needs to be looked after. I know you see me as a burden Jongseong, you just don’t want to say it because you’d rather convince yourself that you love me instead of facing the truth.
What did you even come here for? To make sure that I wasn’t doing well? So you could come and swoop in to save the day? You see me as nothing more than just a sick puppy to take care of. You’ve only stayed as long as you have because you pity me more than you love me.” the words just continue to spill out of you. the voices inside of your head had fully convinced you that everything you were saying was the truth and you were only just helping Jongseong face it.
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He loved you more than anything and he couldn’t process the fact that you only saw him as someone that pitied you over someone that truly loves you. Because he did. He loved you… or was he starting to believe that what you were saying was in fact the truth.
“How could you say that?” Jongseong says, voice low and discouraged. Great, now you had upset him and intead of focusing on yourself you now had to worry about your boyfriend’s feelings.
“I- You know what. We’re done. Get out.” your voice was dull but it stabbed Jongseong’s heart like it was nothing. “What?” he says in disbelief and you don’t even give him time to process as you're grabbing his wrists and doing your best to drag him out of your apartment. His body was heavy as he tried to stop you but there was something, aside from you, pulling Jongseong out of your apartment and away from you.
Was it wrong to say that maybe there was a small chance he had been waiting for you to push him away? That he had been secretly hoping you would finally get tired of him so that he no longer had to deal with you? Was that so wrong for him to want to be happy in the chance that it meant not being happy with you?
As he pondered these questions, the slam of your front door knocked him out of his thoughts, eyes glued onto the brown paint of the front door. Jongseong contimplated to knock on the door, beg for him to be let in, but he chooses not. Dropping his hand to his side with a sigh as he turns on his heel and walks away from your apartment.
And ultimately walking away from you, forever.
You, on the other hand, waited on the other side of the door, tears welling in your eyes the longer you waited for Jongseong to try and make his way back in. Hoping that you would hear his voice that you loved so much, ask for you to open the door so he could take care of you.
Because maybe, even if you thought you didn’t need it, you did need to be taken care of. And Jongseong was the person who had done that for as long as you could remember.
But the longer you waited the more sadness and regret filtered out the insecurity and doubt. Leaving you to stand in your home, alone, and never to see Jongseong again.
You drag yourself back into your bedroom, flickering the light on and the first thing your eyes fall to is the framed photo of you and Jongseong. The photo was of the day he asked you to be his girlfriend. A photo of you sitting in the middle of a field for a picnic that he had planned. Flowers and your favorite food and snacks sitting next to the both of you on the picnic blanket.
The anger you felt from the photo surged throughout your body and without even thinking you swipe the photo off your vanity, tears flowing from your eyes as it crashes to the floor into thousands of pieces.
You would have hoped that two years after your breakup that you would’ve gotten better and gotten over him, but you fell back into the cycle of shrouding in darkness when a photo of Jongseong appears on your SNS.
He’s smiling, hair done in the way you liked, in a suit that made him look like a prince, and an arm around the waist of a girl you didn’t know. Your eyes trailed over from his arms, to her waist, to her arm, and then to the ring on her finger.
It felt like your heart shattered in that moment. Like you were offended and hurt that Jongseong would ever choose another girl over you as if you gave him a choice like you hadn’t made that choice for him.
More tears well in your eyes as you glance over to Jongseong again. His smile was so beautiful and that was when you realized you had never seen him smile like that when he was with you. He seemed so happy and it hurt even more knowing that he was happy without you.
But there was no one to blame but you.
You forced him away and what a waste of a life for Jongseong to never choose happiness.
You only ever wished that he would be happy.
Just as long as he’s not happier without you.
Maybe in another life. When you weren’t so convinced that everyone hated you and that you were deserving of Jongseong’s love.
Maybe in another life.
copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved
all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.
the credit for the lyrics used in this piece of writing go to their rightful owners
#collecting tears#en-diaries#enhypen#kpop#kpop au#kpop fic#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#fanfiction#enha#enhypen au#enhypen jongseong#enha jongseong#enhypen jay#enha jay#park jongseong#jay park#enhypen angst#enha x reader#enha imagines
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a quite simple outfit, trying to use the little blue and white apron thing (which is actually a dress I think, that I just leave un-buttoned in the back and added an apron-like tie to lol)
#self#mori kei#jfashion#NOT really but like.. it's.. adjacent I guess.. forgive me .. I may try using tags again though I kind of got out of the habit ghhj#I need to be... Seen to some degree. I want to start selling clothes and sculptures again to recoup the costs of having to euthanize my cat#and stuff . but that won't be very successful if I have like.. 15 people to sell to lol...#the eternal Hermit Conflict where you hate attention and Being Percieved in general yet in todays capitalist society it is nearly#a necessity to have some form of social network or media presence especially in creative fields. etc. etc. ... kicking screaming wailing#sobbing so on and so forth.. tearfully punching the cold mossy stone walls of my evil wizard tower...#I was also thinking of maybe opening a few sculpture commission slots and maybe Tumblr Blazing that post or something#but.. again.... sobbing crying interacting with the general public oughhf ouuch -500 HP#why can't I just be approached by some wealthy 65 year old woman who is nonsensically infatuated with my art for no#reason and gives me like $10.000 a week for food and art supplies and etc. and I can go fuck off into a cabin in the middle of nowhere#in the uk and just be left alone to work on my projects without even needing to build any form of connections or social presence because I'#already set for life and can just get funding and connections whenever lol.. WHICH not to be ungrateful like obviously I still appreciate#anyone who follows and interacts with my posts. I dont mean it in a 'grrr fuck all of you imbeciles I wish I could delete my blog!!!' or#whatever hhjkjk.. I just mean it more in a like.. I am very socially inept and my mental illness gives me severe social issues so any situ#tion where I'm expected to self promote or network or interact with others generally is nightmarish and stressful for many many reasons#and if I could somehow skip that part and just go straight to being a famous author or somethin.. that would be cool. Which I know EVERYONE#hates networking and stuff but I mean like.. on a level most people could not possibly comprehend.. I am not just an 'introvert'. I am like#doctors declare me incapable of functioning in general society very poor mental health prognosis probably should have a caretaker at#some point type Hermit lol.. ANYWAY ghbhj... alas.. I also feel weird about the sculptures in terms of what to charge for them#and always have which is part of why I stopped selling them. If I charged a fair even like $15 an hour many of them would be like#close to $150+. and nobody is going to pay that for a decoration. that doesn't even factor in like.. supplies or time spent communicating/s#etching the concept (if a commission) etc. etc. I thought it'd be better to just auction them then and let people pay what they want inst#d of a set price but etsy doesnt allow auctions and is it weird to just.. link people to an Art Ebay or something lol..#AAAANYWAY.. the outfit.. I still love these shoes. they're nice and a little Older Style looking. always into pastel florals too lol#(everything is thrifted as usual. excited about the shirt because it's so puffy! it was in the halloween section though ghjhj.. like when i#s october and they make the special aisle in goodwill for 'Costume' clothes even though theyre all just normal stuff I would wear ghg)
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#i'm so frustrated i've just wanted to come home for several days and now i'm here and it's just one problem after another#i had to leave a window open because of the heatwave that was fully 8 days ago because i wasn't gonna be home in the meantime#and apparently they mulched the yard during that time and it blew in the window and got all over the room. which i haven't cleaned yet#also i discovered today that when i flush the toilet it spurts water all over the floor!#and i'm already so tired and sad and i don't have the bandwidth to deal with anything#this toilet thing is an urgent problem but i'm not going to call the emergency hotline right now because they'll just make me stay#up all night waiting for them and i'm already so tired i'm crying from tiredness#so i'm just gonna try not to flush the toilet anymore but like. i just wanted to be home where it's calm and familiar#and now i have to stress about flushing the toilet and have strangers in here (best case scenario anyway. worst case is they#ignore me and don't fix the problem) and probably still be tired because i'm going to be too anxious to sleep well#i'm just so TIRED i just want to REST#and i was texting my friend about it and LOST SERVICE in the middle which has never happened before in my apartment#that was the final straw and now i'm just sitting here weeping feeling sorry for myself#i hate this fucking property management company why can't they just keep their units habitable
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anyone else out here a middle child saddled with eldest daughter responsibilities?
#a bumper sticker that says 'middle-child neglect and eldest-child duties'#i want to believe it started when my older sister moved out but. lets be real. it's always been me.#i am genuinely acting care-giver to my chronically ill younger sister while my dad watches basketball on the couch#and my mom doesnt get out of bed.#like. my mom is pretty sick too and works all day and does most of the housekeeping too#so i dont blame her at all.#i mean i guess my dad works all day but. for real king you can't get up off the couch to support your daughter crying and heaving#no that falls to me. yeah yeah I'll get her a drink and make sure she takes her meds.#what's that? yeah I'll rub her back and run a cloth under the sink and bring her something to eat too.#oh? yes fine I wont take a gummy so i wont sleep because she's in a flare up and needs them more than me#to be clear!! I'm not blaming her either like clearly she feels like shit and she feels guilty all the time#i just. some amount of help from anyone else. or at least maybe. idk A DAY I can rest when i feel like shit#but oh- no- she's coughing up bile again. yep I'll come bring a bucket.
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#realized i've been dissociating on and off since tuesday and i'm not really sure what to do about it#it's not just tuesday either it's the aftermath#not being able to trust anyone + having my sex-repulsion triggered constantly + feeling uncomfortable in my body 24/7#realizing this is how the world is and probably has been for a while it's just at the surface now#haven't been able to sleep through the night at all + having subconscious anxiety attacks that wake me up#the past several days feel like fragments of dreams that i only partially experienced#i can't find it in me to react to anything#every emotion just makes me cry#not even joking that the most realistic things sticking in my memory lately are my daydreams about Ignis#because Ignis is the only thing that didn't (and can't ever) change#like a rock in the middle of the ocean that i'm holding onto so i don't drown
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everyone be proud of me i am taking care of myself on purpose instead of making myself suffer for catholic reasons
#guilt and shame are sisters#and they do NOT want me to feed myself#and they are so fucking loud#all this to say i am eating a cookie in the middle of a panic attack#because for me skipping food is an act of self harm#and i am trying SO FUCKING HARD not to do that anymore#i'm zeroing in on 40 can i PLEASE stop craving that particular coping mechanism jesus christ#have you ever had to MAKE yourself eat a cookie while you were crying??? for fuck's sake#it's lorraine and the cheesecake all over again#can't believe i have relevant exposure therapy for this shit#don't mind me just being my own therapist in the tags#ana bitch you will NOT get a foothold on me again#i refuse#i. refuse.#panic attack or not it is therapist-mandated SNACK TIME
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guys my eighth grade english teacher still remembers me????? that was 2014-2015 so like 10 whole years ago???
#my stepmom is a lunch lady at the middle school i went to#and he heard we were related so he went down to ask about me???? which is so sweet????#he asked her if i still write and my stepmom wasn't sure#(the answer is not really because i don't have time)#but ig he was super excited and proud to hear about what i'm doing now and stuff which is so sweet#and the fact that he just remembered me in general?????#i spent so much of middle school and high school feeling invisible and forgettable unless it was bad things that made me stand out#or made me memorable#so to think that he remembers me affer all these years? enough to ask about me? and to remember i liked to write?#like this man left such an impression on me i can't believe it was mutual#i think i'm going to go cry but in the good way ;-;#zip quips
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could this day be any worse
#no#paid $30 to see an old doctor because she was being a bitch about my anti depressant#Then had to cancel the appointment in the middle of walking in her office#Because suddenly my new doctor was like actually i will prescribe your medication haha nevermind everything else I said#And my old doctor was like fuck you no you can't have your $30 back sucks to be you doesn't it#Then I'm so upset that I drive an hour to talk to TSA and realize I forgot my passport and so they won't speak to me at all#please god just shove me down a flight of stairs and let this day be over#A whole hour drive back to my house!#To have accomplished nothing!#Meanwhile I'm crying my eyes out over Johnny and Moz not getting along like an actual teenage girl#Just#I hate everything right now
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Stupid School related vent
Look objectively speaking this has been a good school year.
Good classmates(except when they were indefensible w the teachers)
Good teachers (except when they acted like whiny children. Idc if they were good to me I speak objectively and generally)
Best grades I've ever achieved
But honestly I am not happy, we did too many useless things, we lost many hours to things our teachers were forced to make us do because the program said so...
I am now making notes and studying alone things we didn't do but they're gonna ask me at my exam.
I haven't studied certain artistic movements, artists and important paintings because our art history teacher was... hhhhrn bad.
Some important authors were skipped
Some historical periods of time just barely mentioned or were explained superficially.
Some philosophers skipped or explained badly.
No, it's not a pretty picture and most of it wasn't our or our teachers' fault. I am not blaming anyone but the school system that now more than ever I am convinced is deeply flawed.
I am going to do my final exam and get my final grade that will determine my "worth". 5 years of work but 5 days are gonna determine 60% of my final grade.
I know whatever happens the grade is gonna be good because I already have 80/100 and if I get 20/20 at the final exam it's gonna be 100/100. And frankly it's not that hard.
I don't even care if something happens and I'm gonna guck up, I'm gonna give my best because I care and I want to be proud of myself when I'm gonna look back at this time of my life.
But I am not happy because I feel like whatever I did and I was taught wasn't enough. I don't care if the final grade is gonna be good, I am still not happy about my own level of education.
I mean, I am happy for myself, i did my best and had my kind of fair "reward" for my efforts... I'm simply not satisfied
#steel rambles#honestly speaking it's stupid#but idk thinking about this exam i feel empty#90% of my peers feel anxious or nervous or scared... idk i just really don't care anymore#and I'm sad about it because i want to care#and to a degree i still do#but it's just...#it's like middle-school all over again#like it's different. I'm in a different head space and all#but it's the same emptiness that looks like confidence/standoffishness from the outside#i was tired and wanted to get shit done in middle school#i am tired and want to get shit done now#and i can't even complain about it to my classmates or my friends because they all say#“oh shut up you have it easy you have such a good grade etc etc”#okay sure but still it's not the grade that bothers me it's my fucking level of education and my feelings towards the school system#and i worked my ass off for that grade. no one is gonna give me back all the time i wasted crying over my notes and books and documents#and it's because of this that i am angry. because it doesn't feel worth it.#so yeah stuff maybe it's just my evening induced melancholy and maybe tomorrow I'm gonna look at this and say#“duuuuuude shut fhe fuck up come on”#which is fair#but as of now it all feels unsatisfactory i guess lol
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had such a bad and exhausting shift and my mom isn't even at home to tell her about it ☹️
#it's been a while since i wanted to cry on the ride back home#and it's maybe the first time i was about to cry right there at work. there was a queue of like three carts too so they probably saw me all#red mouth like this ☹️ trying my hardest not to cry on their groceries 👍👍👍#all because of a comment a middle aged man said. i felt so belittled for something that wasn't even all my fault#and so i said something but that made me feel even worse so 👍#idk why i didn't stay silent and that's it but i told this man to not mock me (obviously he said it's wasn't mocking) but confrontation#makes me cry so. and I can't believe his wife didn't say anything while this man treated me like that i would have been so embarrassed to#have a husband like that#and then it was just such a tiring shift with lots of people and i was all alone with the other cashiers far down from my register#ugh
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however.. it's not just blorbo thoughts that haunt me with that song... it's teacher thoughts too! 🤯
#for the past few months I've been going back and forth about whether i want to teach middle or high school#and this is nowhere near a deciding factor#BUT... consider the following with me.. performing one version as a mass piece at the beginning of the year with the full choir and then.#🤌🏻#at the end of the year doing the other with just the seniors because they have become the old man who will never again pass this way 😭#i feel like dickau's would be better as a mass piece because of it's more relaxed rhythms. the chords sound fuller than macdonald's which#would probably sound nicer with all hands on deck! and then macdonald's more rhythmically challenging arrangement would be cool for the#seniors 😁 but this is to my untrained and pretty rusty ear so 🕴️ we'll see how i feel when i go back to school#another idea I've entertained is giving each class a like. Challenge Song their freshman year and recording it‚ then reprising it their#senior year and letting them compare their performances to reflect their growth as musicians.. i think that would be really cool :]#i dont think i could conduct the bridge builder with that in mind though.. id start crying lol! but i think it is fundamental as a choir#student to watch your director cry in the middle of a song+ continue on as if nothing was happening#but anyhow idk man.. the idea of working with high schoolers to really build up their musicality and prepare them for the world is very#appealing to me but you can't be a musician without the foundations which i could establish in middle school#and foundations are very fun to teach as well!! but foundations can be taught in a beginning choir course or during summer camp#so 😩#the music i want to direct is all satb which suits high school better. but is it selfish to choose which way to go based on what music you#like? 🕴️🕴️ the contemplations man.... anyhow i have a lot more growing and learning and Studying to do before this will even matter#can't prepare kids for the world when I've scarcely explored it myself!#sriracha.txt
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Seems like I'm having another pain flare-up, this time so much worse than the last :(
#i don't know what i'm gonna do about school this year. at this point i definitely can't carry a bag#can't even carry just my ass around without being in so much pain. and i can't fit anything in a fanny pack#i've been stretching and trying to work out my muscles veeeery slowly. because if i don't i'll injure myself again#..........maybe i should just say fuck it and finally see a doctor.#but nooo. if you're afab and you see a doctor for pain it's gonna be two things:#'oh it's your period of course!' 'oh it's not your period? then have you tried yoga? drinking water?'#i swear to god it's always like that#partner thinks i might have fibro and i'm not completely unconvinced#my entire middle-upper back and ribs and sternum are just killing me. can't stand up straight or slouch without pain#stretching doesn't seem to be doing anything to help but i'm going to keep trying#can't tell if this is just because i'm 26 and not active at all or if i have some other serious underlying condition#though if i've been in pain every single day for at least the last 11 years it's probably p fucking serious.#i just want to cry. everything aches like when you have a fever or the flu#i'm also feeling SO nauseous this morning like holy shit#someone might have to physically drag me to the doctor tbh#medical trauma wee hoo!!!
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that's so annoying :(
#I took a gummy because I've felt like shit the past few days#my head hurts and I'm so tired#and I was really looking forward to being high#but then I just threw up#and I'm pretty sure I could taste the gummy#so I can't take a second one just in case. so I just have to wait#for it to probably not work. and now I'm nauseous and my stomach hurts#everything is pissing me off#I feel like I've been back in middle school for like the past month#everything makes me so angry and frustrated and sad all the time#I don't know what's wrong#I'm such a fuck up like. I genuinely do nothing all day#and I'm still exhausted and incapable#and fucking crying at nothing. it's so frustrating#there's only so much mindful breathing I can do before it drives me crazy too
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