#but it will always have been valuable for the joy and friends it has brought me. even after it ends.

[intersex-support]

I've always suspected I was intersex since I was young and heard of it, now that I'm older and I'm getting close to a diagnosis of PCOS, I got checked for high testosterone I have high testosterone, even after everything; I still feel so hesitant to call myself intersex. I just want advice about this? It's been hard for me to accept this despite all the traits I show. I feel so hesitant to use intersex terms, to call myself intersex. Advice?

Hi anon.

You're definitely not alone in struggling to accept your intersex identity and feeling conflicted about what it means for you. When I first got diagnosed with my intersex variation, I felt really overwhelmed and emotional. Even though I was already a little bit familiar with what intersex meant, realizing that it applied to me, and that I was actually intersex, brought up all these other questions and insecurities about my gender, my childhood, other parts of my identity. And so, so many of my intersex friends have had similar experiences.

I think something that makes it really hard to accept yourself as intersex is the amount of systemic discrimination we face. We grow up in a world founded around compulsory dyadism--the way that the (mythical) sex binary is forced onto everyone, and how people who deviate from the sex binary are erased, "fixed," and have our intersex traits eradicated. When we grow up in a society where every form only has an "m" and "f" box, where there's all this shame surrounding things like body hair, micropenises, etc, where we're told that intersex is incredibly "rare"--it's so hard to feel like we can actually exist as intersex! Our society makes it feel like it isn't even possible in the first place, and then also places all these dehumanizing and pathologizing stereotypes on us once we do find out we are intersex.

But the truth is, of course we're allowed to exist as intersex, and we aren't rare! One thing that's really beautiful to me about the intersex community is that we have so much variety, in terms of our different diagnoses and life experiences. There truly is not one singular universal intersex experience. There's not a "right" or "wrong" way to be intersex. There's as many different intersex experiences as there are intersex people. You know that you have intersex traits, you have test results, you are the expert on your body. You are intersex enough, and your experiences are a meaningful and valuable part of the intersex community.

It's definitely a journey to embrace your intersex identity, and it's not something you need to rush before you're ready. I'll share some things that really helped me when I was in that process, and other intersex followers, feel free to add on things that helped you!

Learning more about intersex history, culture, and politics. It was super meaningful for me to understand that there is an intersex community and that we do have this in depth history, that we're not alone and that people have been intersex for years and years! You can check out this post for a bunch of resources about intersex community, videos, art, articles, etc. It helped me a lot to find people experiencing intersex joy and understanding that as a possibility.

Practicing calling myself intersex in welcoming spaces. At first, I was only out as intersex online in an anonymous blog, because that felt like a safer way to practice referring to myself as intersex without having to come out to people yet.

Joining in intersex community spaces and lurking! I wasn't necessarily ready to start talking about my experiences right away, but meeting other intersex people who welcomed me was super important. If you're under 30, @interactyouth has a discord server. Interconnect also has a discord server and online support group meetings for people of all ages. @intersexbookclub is a super great community that has a discord server and regular book club meetings to discuss books.

Taking it slow and practicing self care. Discovering that you're intersex can be such an emotional experience. For me, journaling is a way that I really like to help process my thoughts and take care of myself. It can sometimes be helpful to incorporate whatever self care looks like for you.

Overall, know that you are intersex, you are allowed to call yourself intersex, and you are not an imposter here. You belong here, and there's a whole community that has your back.

Welcome to the intersex community. I'm glad you're here 💜💜💜

[lilpunkrock]

where you go (i will go) — interlude

AN: The response to part xvi was positively overwhelming. I swear, you make every second spent crafting this story beyond worth it. Enjoy, my dear friends. x

. . .

“It hits me in waves, the lack of color;

I know you weren’t ready to go,

Where you are now, God only knows—

I guess heaven really needed you to leave us in that vacant room;

A different you that’s doing well, a universe laid parallel—

A hundred things that I could lose, not one of them could lead to you;

A different version of yourself—

A universe laid parallel.”

Parallel, Dayseeker

. . .

interlude

When Dream of the Endless steps into the Dreaming, the entire realm stills.

The clouds do not dare to drift; the breeze does not dare to blow. Thousands of creatures, dreams and nightmares normally teeming with life, freeze in place, all at once. Like sculptures, or spring-wound figurines. Frozen in time. 

The Dream Lord notices none of it. There is nothing beyond the thud of his boots against the palace floors, his measured breathing, and the weight of you in his arms. No, there can be nothing beyond any of it. If he permits himself to think outside of these, if he permits his mind to wander– 

He will surely come undone. 

It is only when he walks into the Library of Dreams that he finally notices movement. Lucienne has always been special, has always operated slightly outside of the normal laws of the Dreaming. When the Dreaming crumbled, she remained. When all others abandoned him, she alone persisted. Now, she emerges from the aisles of the library with haste, her eyes wide and startled. 

“My lord, something is amiss in the Dreaming. What was it that called you—“ Her brown eyes find your limp form, the slack weight of you in his arms. She pales instantaneously. “Lord Morpheus—“

“Lucienne,” he rasps, his voice haggard and broken. So much conveyed in a single word. A cry, a plea, and a warning, all in one.

When he strides through the throne room doors, she does not follow. 

The Dream Lord has no private quarters in his palace. Without need for sleep, he has never required one. The throne room will have to do. 

When he reaches the curving staircase, he lifts his chin. At his silent command, a stream of stars rains from the cosmos glimmering beyond the palace’s open trusses. They shimmer and dance as they pool in front of the stairs, forming a small cot. He can imagine your smile, your laugh, your joy if you were to see his creation.

I’ve always loved the stars. Even when I was a mortal…I think. 

Looking at them is…so calming to me. 

Take me to the stars, Dream Lord?

He lays you atop the cot with a thick swallow. He sits atop the bottom stair in front of you.

And, for the first time since he left the Realm of Attachment, he really looks at you. 

Your chest, once filled with breath, lies still. Your skin, normally flushed pink with glee or humor, is pale. You’ve always been so vigorous, so full of life. Even in your quiet, peaceful moments, there was a certain tension in your form, an energy lying just beneath your skin that conveyed fervor, vitality, passion. 

You do not move now. 

This is all wrong. He can still hear the sound of your voice in his ear, clear as day. He can still feel your sweet breath seeping into his skin. Every inch of his being that has known the soft warmth of you hums with the memory. You should move, any moment now. Open your eyes, flash him a dazzling grin, and whisper, ‘I got you.’

But you don’t. 

And, for the first time since he brought you here, the Dream Lord allows himself to feel. 

His sister, Despair, has always been proficient at her function. He has witnessed countless humans and deities fall prey to her influence, slipping into dejection, misery, and madness like salt takes to the sea. He had lived a long life with many painful experiences. They had taught him valuable lessons in how to guard himself to ensure the survival of his own sanity, and his realm along with it. 

He had thrown those lessons out the window for you. Even as his sister takes hold over him, he doesn’t regret it. 

When the grief hits, it is suffocating, striking. It knocks the wind from his lungs and locks them in place, empty and wanting. It siphons the marrow from his bones, filling them with lead. Rational thought is drowned out by the insistent roar of every nuclei, every atom, every cell, crying out for you, starving for you, all at once. 

I was always meant to be yours. 

You were my dream, Dream. 

The walls of his palace shudder. Dust rains from the trusses above, settling in his disheveled hair like ash. When the film prepares to settle over you, he lifts a finger. It dissolves into oblivion instantaneously. 

You do not rouse. 

He can feel himself trying to splinter. Like an atom split in two. An unstable act of fission he can barely control or contain. But he has to. It is his function. If he were to succumb, to fracture into innumerable pieces–

Maybe you’ll be there. Maybe I’ll get to dream of you, in whatever lies after this. 

With a shuddering breath, he rests his head in his hands. 

There could be nothing beyond this pain. No day beyond this night. Perhaps he should end it all now. The Dreaming would remain, yes, and his successor–a new Dream–would rise to take charge of it. Perhaps it would be worth it, for him to escape this agony. 

Or perhaps he should allow his emotions to consume him. Deconstruct the reality of dreams and nightmares as the world knows it, tear apart the fabric of the collective unconscious at its seams. Make the world feel the pain that you had felt, that he felt. What was the point of it all without you, anyway? 

“Why?” he asks the empty air. 

Why hadn’t you told him? Why hadn’t you asked him for help, confided in him? Surely he could have helped. Surely he could have prevented this. 

I saved you.

He knows not what you meant. But he knows he will learn. 

He’s being torn in a hundred different directions at once. Toward Desire, to enact revenge. Toward the Fates, in hopes that they could change yours. Toward Death, in hopes that she could find you. Toward Destiny, to seek answers. 

Most of all, though, he’s being pulled toward you. To peel himself from your side feels wrong. Like a sin. You had died in his arms. You’d want to stay in them forever. He is sure of it. 

He leans forward slowly, gingerly. As if too quick a movement from him might cause you to disappear. When he presses his lips to your forehead, he tries to ignore how cool your skin is. “Just for a short while,” he says softly. “I will be back, I assure you.” 

He doesn’t bother waiting for his physical form to carry him to the gallery. It would only slow him down. When he materializes in front of his brother’s sigil, he takes the Book of Souls replica from its place with conviction. 

Normally, he would ask for permission to visit the Garden of Forking Ways. He is over such pleasantries. “Destiny. I’m coming through.” 

In the blink of an eye, the darkness of the Dream Lord’s gallery is snuffed out, replaced with the blue sky and gentle sun of Destiny’s realm. The bright surroundings and soft sound of birdsong in the distance feel wrong against the turmoil roiling in Dream’s chest. He has found himself standing in his sibling’s gallery, a long corridor within Destiny’s temple lined with life-sized portraits of the Endless siblings. Well, all except for Destiny himself. Destiny’s picture frame contains no portrait, but a mirror, instead. 

It is this mirror that Dream of the Endless finds Destiny standing in front of when he turns. Within the clear glass, the Dream Lord can see his sibling’s milk-white stare, his slender figure, the chain that binds him to his book. When Destiny nods, so too does his reflection. Like a clone, a doppelgänger, a twin.

“Brother,” Destiny says simply. 

There is something about the nonchalance in Destiny’s greeting that sends a rush of anger burning through the Dream Lord’s chest. When his lips upturn, it is not in happiness, but bitter disbelief. “It is brave of you to call me brother after what you’ve taken part in,” the Dream Lord rasps, his voice like gravel. 

Destiny tilts his head to the side thoughtfully. Though he may be physically blind, he sees. The Dream Lord can feel Destiny take in his disheveled hair, his weary disposition. He stands up a little straighter.

“It pains me to see you wounded in this way, brother.” 

A tick of the jaw. “You have not wounded me, Destiny. You have not spilled my blood.” The Dream Lord swallows thickly, struggling to retain his composure. When he speaks, there is a slight break in his voice. He wonders if his sibling will consider him weak for it. “You have done far worse.”

Destiny tilts his head again, regarding the Dream Lord in silence. Though he speaks no words, there’s something in the way that the eldest Endless carries himself, something in his body language, that is gentle. Sympathetic. It takes the Dream Lord off-guard. He’s not sure he’s ever witnessed Destiny convey such an emotion. The eldest Endless rarely displays any emotion at all. 

After a long moment, Destiny straightens. His thumb swipes across the spine of the Book of Souls slowly, thoughtfully. “You would do well not to spill the blood of any other family members, Dream,” he says, voice stern with caution. “I know your nature. My book tells me every intention of your heart.” 

Of course he knew of the fury boiling in the Dream Lord’s veins. How could he not? “Desire is family of mine no longer,” Dream of the Endless retorts. “I will do what I please with them.”

“And what would she say to that? Your Love?” 

Dream of the Endless flinches, then stiffens. Destiny remains still, watching him expectantly.The Dream Lord lowers his chin to his chest, leveling his sibling with a blue gaze like steel. “Do not say her name. Not when you directly led to her undoing. I demand you tell me what led to this.”

“No,” Destiny responds simply. Before his younger brother can protest, the eldest Endless continues, “That is for her to tell you herself.”

Dream of the Endless stills. His mind plays the words forwards and backwards in his mind, over and over again. They settle over him in a haze, easy to see, but difficult to grasp. 

Destiny of the Endless watches in silence as his younger sibling grapples with the meaning of his statement. Finally, he shakes his head. “You allow our younger sister to blind you with grief, Dream. What is it that the scripture says? ‘Love never fails.’” 

Moments ago, the Dream Lord had been tense, coiled like a spring, prepared to strike with tongue and deed. But his brother’s words had smothered the fire in his heart, revealing something small and vulnerable within the embers. Sensing this change, Destiny steps forward. “Clear the despair from your eyes, brother,” he says. “See the path ahead.” 

The Dream Lord draws in a short, shuddering breath. As he does, that tender warmth within his chest blooms and swells. It’s something he hasn’t felt since he laid eyes on the six threads of attachment that irrevocably bound the two of you as one. Hope. 

The hope is painful. He clings to it with all he has. “How?” 

Destiny inclines his chin, leveling his brother with a pale, expectant stare. “You are Dream of the Endless. Or have you forgotten the magnitude of your function?” 

You were my dream, Dream.

And, in that moment, Dream of the Endless knows.

[drakaripykiros130ac]

RANT: How exactly are the writers biased towards Rhaenyra and the Blacks?

This has just got to stop. Greenies are embarrassing themselves.

On the one hand, they say that Rhaenyra is clearly sooooo bad (for who knows what reason. Disliking her as a person is not a good reason. I can give you a list to touch the floor of crimes committed by the greens this season. Rhaenyra has literally done nothing so far. That’s right, she really is a victim.)

On the other, they say that Rhaenyra is portrayed better by the writers on the show, and it is not fair (boo hoo).

Aha, so you admit that Rhaenyra is clearly better than the greens…you just don’t like the idea. Boo hoo.

So, which is it? Contradictory much?

I seriously believe that the people who support the greens have certain issues in relation to privileged people, such as Rhaenyra.

Guess what? Rhaenyra was born a Princess, she is privileged and that is not her fault. If you are jealous of her, that is your problem.

Getting away with things? What exactly has she gotten away with? Are we beating the same old horse concerning her first three children? Just stop, seriously. Let’s see what you would have done in her situation.

The greens, on the other hand, my God, they outright killed sooooo many people and they have irredeemable assholes in their group. Not to mention that the Hightowers have been plotting to steal the throne from the Targaryens since the beginning. And now I am supposed to feel sorry for usurpers? Did I miss something? They brought it on themselves.

Alicent Hightower, a bitch certain people love to portray as the Virgin Mary, is a hateful and jealous shrew because she is low-born and didn’t have privileges, like Rhaenyra did. Boo hoo! Life isn’t fair, sweetheart. If you want someone to blame, how about your power hungry, manipulative snake of a father? Are we all to start civil wars when we are married to old men who can’t give us an orgasm?

I would have sympathized with her, if she had acted a whole lot differently. She is a low-born young woman who was pushed and also seduced her way in the highest position of power for a woman at the time (queen consort). She should have been thanking the Gods for her undeserved luck. There were many better young women who didn’t have such good fortune. Yea, it was her father who forced her, bla bla bla. Fine. I’ll give her that.

But if I were in her position, I would have acted with dignity and been quiet as a mouse, not intent on causing trouble left and right. Because she doesn’t deserve what was given to her. She never did. She wasn’t a mouse. She decided to abuse her power, as if she has always been entitled to it. She wasn’t. As much as she wants, she will never be Rhaenyra. She spent all her time sticking her nose in Rhaenyra’s business when she should have been teaching her pride and joy not to rape servant girls and act his age. Rhaenyra’s children are just as much Targaryen by blood as the Hightower spawns, but unlike them, they are well-educated and show kindness. That’s because Rhaenyra didn’t give a damn about Alicent’s life and spent her valuable time caring for and educating her children.

So, by putting all cards on the table, this was never about honor and decency for Alicent. She wanted to stick it to Rhaenyra and take away her throne because she is jealous of her, for having love, for having solutions to her problems, for not being stuck in a position she can’t get out of, for having more freedom than her. She should just admit that this is what it’s all about. She was close to admitting it when she snapped and attacked Rhaenyra in episode 7 (showing her true colors).

Hatred and jealousy towards a former friend, whom she screwed over when she started seeing her father behind her back.

Male over female monarch on the Iron Throne is a tradition and followed due to precedent. It is not stipulated in any law!

By royal decree, Jaehaerys named Viserys his heir because the Lords wanted it. He wasn’t forced to listen to them. But he did, because he wanted to avoid upsetting them (the coward).

By royal decree, Viserys named Rhaenyra his heir. A King’s decree is law, even if it doesn’t correspond with tradition. Rhaenyra was set to inherit the throne. It is hers by royal decree. Period!

You know how the situation would have looked like in modern times? Picture this:

Your best friend, whom you have known your entire life, starts to secretly see your rich father behind your back after your mother passes away (I don’t give a damn that it wasn’t her decision. She chooses not to tell you.). Then, your father springs on you that he will marry her. After your father dies, your former-best friend and her gold-digging family take away your inheritance for themselves. Would you still be rooting for them?

Bottom line:

Stop whining about how the writers make Rhaenyra look good. The book is very subjective and inaccurate. GRRM himself said to pay attention to the show, not the book. The show indicates what parts of the book are false and which aren’t.

Also, need I remind you that the greens are given a pass on screen on all the crimes they committed up until now? You don’t see me whining about how unfair that is, because in the book they didn’t kill people “accidentally”.

This is GRRM’s story and he is involved in the production. If he decides that the Blacks are the anti-heroes and the Greens are the anti-villains, that’s just how it is, and no amount of your “critical thinking” is going to change that.

In case you haven’t noticed, GRRM does not treat usurpers too nicely. He wipes out their entire line, because that is a little something called justice.

1. Maegor

2. Aegon II

3. Robert Baratheon

That is exactly what is going to happen to Aegon Hightower and his mother will have a front row seat.

Alicent Hightower is a clear example that hatred and jealousy doesn’t get you far in this world. You need to mind your own damn business and if she and Otto would have done so (and not tried to usurp the throne from the rightful ruling House) they wouldn’t have had such horrific (and totally deserving) fates.

There are no good and bad sides here, sure. However:

The Blacks: anti-heroes

The Greens: anti-villains

So, who you root for is your business but stop trying to make it easier for yourself to root for someone you shouldn’t be rooting for by blaming the writers. It’s your decision. Live with it!

[thehumanpuffball]

Myth is Man (1)

Throughout history, humans have always loved stories. They, in some cases, form intrinsic parts of how we teach about our norms and values. A rather famous example would be the moral tale of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf,” a very apt name in my opinion. Anyone who went to a British primary school most likely knows this one off by heart, but I do not know about other countries so here is a shortened version of it:

A shepherd boy tends to the flocks of sheep on the side of the hill at night. He works when all of the shepherds have gone to bed and his job is to protect the flock from the wolves that would otherwise eat the sheep. If he sees a wolf coming to eat the sheep, he must cry out at the top of his lungs “WOLF!” and the townspeople would come running up the hill to scare it away. One night, the boy gets bored, and he thinks that it would be a good idea to shout to the town that there is a wolf. Of course, all those who could, come running up the hill to protect the sheep which will feed them in the winter, but alas, the wolf is not there. Another night comes and the boy does the same, the wolf is still not there, and the townspeople all get angry as they have been called out of bed repeatedly in order to scare away a wolf which doesn’t exist. On the third night, there is a wolf, and the boy cries out to tell them, in hopes that they will run up the hill to save the flock. Nobody comes. He tries again but it is all in vain. Nobody is coming.

The next morning, the shepherd comes back to the hillside, and he says to the boy “Where are the sheep?”, for they had all been taken by the foxes. The boy replies with “I called for the townspeople, but nobody came.

This story is told often to primary school children because it highlights the importance of not lying as when the boy in the tale lies people stop believing him and when he needs help, he does not receive it.

There are so many of these stories and they are told in assemblies everywhere. They are such an important part of our lives growing up as the characters going through these very obvious and tangible events can be used in order to teach children about morals and about right and wrong more effectively than a list of rules can. Writing and storytelling is one of the oldest human artforms, our brains love a good story, once they kept us together around campfires, and now they keep us together in book clubs and at Halloween when we tell ghost stories with our friends in the dark. Fandom is also a form of this, a group of people brought together by the pure joy of loving a piece of media and wanting to talk about it.

Furthermore, it is crucial that we celebrate all writers, because not only can we find joy, peace, and delight in fiction, but we can also understand some of the more awful things in the world a little better using fiction. I know that my perception of religion and where I stand on it was somewhat guided by my reading of the His Dark Materials trilogy which has some beautiful messages about the dangers of control of only one religion, but the wonder that can be created when different people with different life experiences and beliefs all put their ideas together, and the importance of discussion and open mindedness. This part goes for writers too, it is so crucial that people keep writing the stories that they want to write, not what will sell, because every book has a soul. A writer behind those pages who put so much emotion into these characters, crafted people from the electrical and chemical signals in their mind.

Storytelling is a major part of being human, it always has been and (hopefully) always will be. Whether you are a bestselling author, or you like to make up little scary stories to tell your friends at sleepovers, your story is part of a long, long tradition, and is valuable, and beautiful.

[felipeandletizia]

July 5, 2023: Princess Leonor delivers a speech during the Princess of Girona Awards Ceremony

Majesties, authorities, patrons, girlfriends and friends. I especially salute our prize winners and the thousands of young people who have been involved in the activities that the Foundation has developed this year. Good night and welcome.

Being in Girona is a joy and makes this award ceremony a very special moment for me. Yesterday, my sister Sofia and I were lucky enough to meet the BulliFoundation's model of innovation and creativity - and its museum - from Ferran Adrià, in the impressive Cala Montjoi, in the middle of the Natural Park from Cap de Creus. And I'm also very happy to have been able to meet, with my sister, the headquarters of the Foundation in the city of Girona.

We are brought together tonight by the talent of our five winners and their commitment to society and the challenges it faces. The five are indisputable references who have taken advantage of the opportunities so that their trajectory has a clear purpose with social impact. I have spoken with them and with other young people about the concerns of our generation, about what it means to train, about how to find and develop one's own talent, about preparing for new skills through innovative educational models, about the awareness of living in a balanced way. on our planet, of vital projects when you are twenty or twenty-five years old.

In my case, I am almost eighteen. I have just finished high school and I am about to start a new stage with a period of military training. And, beyond my responsibility, I am happy because I know how much the Spanish value our Armed Forces. It is an important moment in my life and I feel very eager and convinced to continue learning and giving my best spirit to strengthen the values with which I have grown and that today our five awardees embody: respect for others, effort, excellence, search for knowledge, temperance, discipline, perseverance. Also, ability to perceive reality and live with the enthusiasm typical of my age.

That is what I can see in Sabrina: her determination to succesfully build Kenya´s largest network for early childcare is truly inspiring.

And those are values that Marc also projects, when he is proud of his beginnings in Girona to now be a professor at Yale University and a benchmark in the research of a major public health problem: obesity.

And I am still surprised and impressed by Rafel's courage to launch himself into manufacturing satellites that collect valuable information to face challenges such as climate change.

And Silvia, who has the ability to heal emotions and relieve pain when a chronic and advanced disease robs us of any joy.

And with Maria's story, and her extraordinary talent on the violin, I feel that effort is always behind excellence.

They will tell me if it is not exciting to share a night together in which we are verifying that several generations of young people have already taken action and offer us the best of themselves.

Thank you, Silvia, Rafel, María, Sabrina and Marc for leading the way. Thanks to the young people who trust the Princess of Girona Foundation to continue growing, thanks to so many companies and entities that support us. Thank you for allowing me to learn from all of you.

And thank you from Girona for inspiring so many young people of my generation who want to live in a society that is more committed to others.

Thank you so much.

[in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine]

Ehh, idk what to say to you, or like Perfetta, lol.. For me, you've been amazing and one of the relationships that I will cherish and remember the most. We've both got flaws and things to work on; we are not truly perfect. However, this didn't stop us from connecting and sharing whatever was on our plates; sometimes, we felt like we truly had no limits to what we could tell each other. I've felt safe about my secrets resting with you, and I assume the same is with you.. You have been a guiding star, a constant beacon of light in my life, leading me through some of my darkest moments with your presence and with your words and Wisdom. This reflects on you a lot since you're always there for others, and you're such a helpful and wholesome person. Even when I was a complete stranger, u still took time, u took care of me, u asked, and u showed some great parts about you that instantly I'm like, wow, this girl is amazing, and she's making me think things more. Which for me is great, I like to think. Thanks for letting me explore ur mind and see how our beautiful brain works.. remember when, in the beginning, we used to say #same a lot? That was really cool and unique. I know that we don't have like a normal relationship; however, I would do anything to keep you around in my life since. I feel like you're truly someone worth it to me and a really valuable person for me.

To discover a kindred spirit is to find your heart in the heart of a friend. I feel as we're soul mates, kindred spirits and on a deep fundamental level we were made to meet each other. Don't you ever feel like the universe planned for our existence? It could just be a big coincidence, but I like to fantasize and think. If anything, the possibilities of our meeting were slim; however, it has to count for something. And what that's going to happen in the end, we don't know, but we're still going to find out in the end. Legit, everyone around you is lucky to have you, even ur parents and ur sis XD In you, I have found a confidante who understands me without words, a companion who fills my life with laughter and joy, and a kindred spirit who completes me in ways that words cannot express. Your presence in my life has brought back the life I have in me that I never knew was possible, and I am forever grateful for the love and friendship we share. I offer you my heartfelt thanks for being the treasure that you are in my life. You are my confidante, my kindred spirit, and my eternal friend. Sincerely thank you, and you will always be my bestest friend and a true Orange ♥

[reclaimingthewildsoul]

Reflections

As I wait between chapters, my mind cannot help but wander back to all the paths that led to here. How I became who I am and all that I have done, create the legacy of my life.

Loss often makes us reflect on what has been, sometimes with sadness or regret and sometimes with fondness and joy. However I got here, I am now here. I feel very much between .... who I have been and who I will move into being .... what defined me then and what will define me in the future.

The loss of my horse, Lizzie has created a huge chasm in my soul. She occupied parts of every day of my life for the past 27 years. She grew with me through raising my 3 kids, enduring then leaving a marriage of 23 years, starting again alone at 50, building a business and a career, marrying again and now thinking about what form of "retirement" is good for me. I have made adjustments all along the way, as we must do to survive.

Being a full time mother brought me so much Joy for all the years my kids needed me. Now they are all grown up with children of their own and their "need" for me has changed. As I always say to others, "a good parent raises their children to NOT need them". So I succeeded. I know they love me and will always be there for me, but they don't "need" me as they once did. My self purpose changed as they grew up and moved on to living their own lives.

I am grateful for all the good friends who I have met and who have walked alongside me for a time through the years. It is at times like these that I am so glad for the valuable insights and support they give me. Being seen, known and accepted by another is a crucial part of finding solace on the Journey and helping when times are not so easy.

In my reflecting I am aware of how often I did for others or did what I felt I "should" do rather than make choices that I might now call "free". As I now see the end getting closer, and never knowing how many sunrises, sunsets, full moons or Christmas celebrations with family are left for me, I am prepared to dig and find that "wild Soul" that may have called and not been heard or listened to.

[blorbologist]

Not a prompt. :)) Also warning: extreme sappiness ahead.

I can't sleep, and it's your birthday, so I thought I'd send this now.

My friend, getting to know you over the past few months has been a blast, and it also has been so wonderful in multiple ways. I have just been so honored to be offered the opportunity to call you a friend. You are kind, and you always know how to make my day. You are truthful and forthright, which is a quality that is so valuable in general. But it also balances me out because I tend to view myself in ways that aren't necessarily accurate, and you can call me out on that. You are hilarious and brilliant, and I know I've said this, but that you take the time out of your day to listen to me means so much to me. I don't know how I came to be so lucky, but I'm so glad I did.

And now, I get to your talent. Your writing is breathtaking. Your pieces reach into my chest, grip my heart, and never let go. Every word is poetry; every syllable is beauty, and every letter is genius. I mean that. You find a way to make everything breathe: the painful moments and the tender ones. You often even make painful moments tender. How do you do that? I am bewildered and astonished by you every single time you send me something, or I read something of yours. Your descriptions are so vibrant and alive, and I am always brought right into the thick of the scene you set. You always manage to write the character voices in a way that is real and yet so in character. It makes it feel like they are real, living people. If I can be even half the author you are, I will consider myself lucky.

Then there's your art! I'm not much of an artist, but I love looking at your art. I enjoy seeing how you portray the characters we love. They always have so much expression. And the colors often jump out somehow. I'm not an art critic but what I'm trying to say is: your art is very pretty, and I like it a lot.

Last but not least, you bring so much to our community. Your passion, your fondness for these characters (even if you like beating them up a bit ;) ) your willingness to engage with and cheer on others, and your ability to bring out the best in them too.

This is getting very long, so I will wrap it up. But I hope you know I could write a novel about how awesome you are!!! I love you bunches.

Happy birthday. ❤️

IM GJKTRHNTKRNHKRT ;; THIS WAS BURRIED IN ALL THE PROMPT ASKS I CANT-

Please don't sell yourself short, you're a treasure in your own right and you bring so much light and joy to this fandom while I'm out here kicking people's feels in the shins and laughing about it ;;;

I love you bud, you're the first friend I made in this fandom space and I'm so glad it was you, I'm really so, so touched and happy to know you and im gkrgnktnr

making sad pathetic wet cat noises

[thedailydigestcmc]

Who knew a simple video could spark such a whirlwind?

I've always been a bit of a social media aficionado, constantly sharing my thoughts, experiences, and a healthy dose of humor online. My Facebook feed, in particular, has been a digital playground for me. I've never been afraid to experiment with different content formats, from witty captions to creative videos.

One day, I decided to tackle a topic that was close to my heart: the English major. I've often found that people have misconceptions about what it's like to study English. So, I gathered a group of friends and embarked on a project to create a video that would challenge these stereotypes.

The concept was simple: we would introduce various aspects of our English major, followed by humorous and exaggerated misconceptions. The goal was to make people laugh while also shedding light on the reality of studying English.

To our surprise, the video resonated with a much wider audience than we had anticipated. It quickly went viral, racking up millions of views and likes. It was a surreal experience to see our creation shared and discussed by people from all walks of life.

The positive feedback was overwhelming. We received messages from fellow students, professors, and even strangers who expressed their appreciation for our work. It was heartwarming to know that our video had brought joy and entertainment to so many people.

The experience taught me a valuable lesson about the power of social media. A simple video can have a profound impact, connecting people from different backgrounds and spreading positivity. I'm grateful for the opportunity to share our story and make a difference, even if it was just a small one.

Social Media // Shanghai Kim Chan

The Daily Digest

[fallaciesruinlife]

To James Lim (Part 1)

Dear James,

It's your ex-wife here, Yung May and I am just writing to you to express how I am feeling about the annulment of our 1-year old marriage and the fateful ending of our 5 year relationship together.

It has occurred to me that throughout this period of time, I have thoroughly reflected , contemplated and cried even over the disgusting mistakes I made as both a girlfriend and then, a wife to you. There was not one single day that at the back of my mind, that I still felt the relationship was still alive and going great and that I had terribly wished that I had never said the words I said, done the things I done, and committed those regrettable actions that turned the relationship sour, bitter and indigestible overall.

I had wished so that our relationship could have been better, stronger and wise, but seeing how much pain I caused you, I understand the urgency for you to heal and take a permanent, maybe perhaps a forever break to this relationship. There is no amount of tears for making up to this mess I had caused and that every word, action habit or character that I portrayed as a person to sleeping next to you back in our old apartment unit B-23-07 is consuming my heart inside, ripping it apart as I mulled over the days without you with only accompanied by packs and packs of cigarettes.

I have come to the conclusion that things are supposed to not end well between both of us already and that this fateful twist to our meeting has brought insightful and valuable lessons to me as a person, a family member, and a contributor of society. My sincere hopes that are you will meet and remarry someone new who is able to bring out the joyful, funny and witty side of you in every sense and manner should you choose to tie the knot together with the person sometime in the near of distant future. While on my end, I will continue to inflict a sense of imprisonment of my mind towards the sins I committed until I feel it is time for me to fully let go and feel ready to have a relationship again. I am not see planning to see anyone currently because I feel it is a well-deserved relationship status as I watched my friends who are loyal, steadfast and ever so loving to their boyfriends and husbands enjoy the rewards and fruits of their emotional commitment and labor in their respective relationships. That said, my cowardice and lack of accountability to take charge of my guilt and my own mistakes has indeed shown me that karma does have a way around things and that I should never have taken every mistake I committed towards our relationship that lightly.

May peace and joy always reach to you, James. I really loved and will always love you. As how you are my first love, the same goes for me too, I will remember the pain, the happiness, the saltiness of every moment we shared together, okay?

Love,

Your beloved ex-wife

Yung May

[turtletaubwrites]

She Knows I Listen ~ Part 10.5

This fic is from Part 10 of We've All Got Needs from Sanji's POV.

Pairings: Sanji x Fem!Reader, Robin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1455

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: Sanji is determined to ensure that your first date with Robin is perfect. He hopes you really do want him to listen in.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, Smut, Angst, Shame, Voyeurism, Dubious Consent, Masturbation, Coming in Pants, Pet Names, Alcohol, Cigarettes, they’re gross, don’t smoke, Sanji’s a perv

A/N: This is more angsty than his first listen, be warned.

Extra A/N: Both the reader and Robin know that Sanji will probably listen given what they know about his previous confession. They are both alright (or more than alright) with it, but no one has given explicit consent.

Their day will be perfect.

That thought dominated his mind today as he doted on you and Robin. Sanji had decided that he was alright with sharing your heart with that idiot swordsman, but now that you would be seeing Robin as well, his own heart felt like it was swelling in his chest. 

His years working at the Baratie helped his mouth form the right words, offering you an array of treats, and drinks designed to relax and arouse. His customer service skills kicked in, thankfully working on autopilot as his brain flooded with sultry images and gibberish. 

He kept at this through the entire day, brunch through dinner, and even provided games and activities, always smiling as you both gently shooed him away. 

He wouldn’t go far.

This day has to be perfect. These angels deserve nothing but joy.

As the sun was setting over the deck, you asked him to stop checking if they needed refills on their wine. Sanji left the bottle, but before he went too far, you had knocked it off the table. He rushed, even though he wasn’t close enough to do a thing, only to watch Robin call a hand to catch it. 

Sanji felt gripped for a moment, not because of his goal for your perfect day, but because of the way your face fell as Robin caught the bottle. 

What’s wrong, sweetheart?

Sanji berated himself, but couldn’t resist the urge to make sure you were alright. He found a place past the tangerine trees that was close enough for him to pick up more of the conversation. He pulled out a cigarette, but waited to light it as he focused on your beautiful voices. 

“Whatever else we might become, we are friends. I’d like to know if something is bothering you.”

Robin is so lovely. 

“I’ve just… been feeling… I’ve been wanting to do more for the crew than I have been. I guess seeing the boys has made me notice it more. My work is valuable, I know it. But I want to help. I don’t want to be a burden.”

Sweet Y/N, dear, you could never be a burden.

Sanji had to fight the urge to go comfort you, his fingers digging into the wood of the railing.

“Y/N, you have saved us in so many ways. Your skills are incredibly useful.”

“Not when we fight.”

The hint of shame he heard in your soft voice made him sick. Sanji clenched his jaw as he fought to swallow his own memories of weakness and shame, as well as the fear of you in danger.

I’ll never let her feel worthless. 

“Knowledge is more valuable than violence.”

Robin’s clear voice brought him back, filling him with gratitude for her kindness. He held his breath as you replied.

“I want to be able to protect the people I care about. I don’t want my friends to get hurt because I can’t protect myself… I want to be needed.”

Sanji had to walk away then, otherwise he would have run to you, to take all those doubts from your mind. 

He ended up across the deck, lighting his cigarette, and fighting not to turn back and watch you both.

He failed, glancing back to see Robin leading you inside, hips swaying as she carried the bottle of wine with her. 

Your eyes caught his for a moment, and he knew he couldn’t be imagining the heat in them. That one look was enough to stir his blood, his breath heavy as he watched you. He saw that tiny shiver move through you before you stepped through the door, a small gasp leaving his lips.

My perfect girl wants me even now, even as she follows that goddess to her room. Fuck, I want you too, darling.

Sanji cleaned up, spending too long in the kitchen. The rest of the crew had already dispersed for the evening, and he sat in the booth, mind too loud to ignore.

How long have they been in there? What are they doing? Are they having a good time? Do they need anything?

The urge to check on you made his jaw clench. He couldn’t pretend it was just for you, not for his own needs.

Now that the ship was quiet, and the hallway was empty, Sanji’s heart was practically jumping, his body itching to walk past Robin’s door.

No. I shouldn’t listen. It’s so bad, so wrong.

But Y/N knows. She knows I listen, and she didn’t ask me to stop. The way she moaned when she found out I was listening to her and that moss head…

Sanji gripped the table, sitting right were you were when he’d confessed. The memory of that beautiful moan you’d given him, before he’d ever touched you, sent him reeling. 

She wants me to hear her. She wants me to know what she’s doing, wants me to take care of her better than anyone else. 

Except Robin. Robin is so beautiful, so sweet. What heavenly softness in one bed, their lips touching, their delicate hands…

“Fuck,” he breathed, barely audible as his body pulsed, the tip of his cock already staining his dress pants with precum.

What are those delicate hands touching. And Robin has so many hands…

Sanji’s body was moving before he could think, an unlit cigarette in his hand as his pathetic excuse if someone found him in the hallway. 

Maybe they’ll ask me to join them, to use my body for their pleasure. Fuck, I’d let them drown me in their sweet bodies. I’ll take such good care of them.

Sanji leaned against the wall by the door, the door that held such overwhelming pleasure. He couldn’t see straight just from the thought, but now he held his breath, aching to hear your sweet voice again. 

“Y/N, is it alright if I use my abilities to please you?”

Sanji bit his lip at Robin’s words, his mind flooded with images of so many hands on your soft skin. He cupped his aching shaft, not stroking yet, just gently squeezing as he listened. He couldn’t hear your voice, just a quiet shuffling until Robin spoke again. 

“What do you want now, Y/N?”

“I want you to touch me, Robin. Please.”

Y/N, you are so perfect. Loving the touch of another gorgeous woman. Putting your lips on her skin, letting her taste you…

Still you were quiet, just the barest of whimpers that made him want to break down the door, and give you everything.

“Ro-Robin…”

“Would you like more, Y/N?”

Sanji let out a tiny whimper of his own as soft moans drifted through the door. He wished he could be closer, to hear the wet sounds your body must be making. Just the thought of that had him thrusting into his hand, the fabric of his pants adding to his overwhelm.

It wasn’t long before high, breathy screams filled the air, and Sanji spilled his hot come into his pants, the dampness reaching through to his desperate fingers. 

His mind flitted between sick shame, and the excuses he’d made. The ways you’d shown him you enjoyed his listening ear. 

She’s so good for me. I’ll be better, I’ll be better for her. She’s everything I ever dreamed of.

Sanji pulled himself away, still fighting the urge not to charge in and fill you both with more pleasure, to serve you.

Closing himself in his quarters, more guilt hit him as he remembered your self doubts that he’d overheard earlier. He cleaned himself off, putting his head in his hands as he sat on his bed, pulse too fast to think of sleep.

Fuck. I shouldn't have done that. Even if she wants me to, I need to be more for her. She deserves more than just lust.

Shame swirled in his mind, along with memories of your smile, your kindness, your body, your scent. Falling back against the bedsheets, Sanji pressed his fists against his eyes, hating himself for sullying the new sweetness you’d invited him to share with you. A true relationship, and he’d just used you for his own pleasure.

I won’t let you down again, angel. I hope you wanted this as much as I think you did. Fuck, I know you did, you sweet angel. You’re so good for me.

He laid in his empty bed, fighting the fears of losing you so soon. Nails digging into his palms, Sanji promised himself he would take care of you. In every way you needed him too. 

Tomorrow is our day, ma belle. I’ll be better for you. I’ll take such good care of you, my darling. 

I promise.

Thank You for Reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Tag List: @astheni-a | @ferns-fics | @heilee | @iamn1ya | @ghostfacefricker6969 | @onlybassoon01 | @apothicgloom | @slyhersophia | @cyberaestheticals

A/N: Sometimes I feel like I wrote Sanji to be too perfect in this story, then I remember this. Both Robin and Reader know he's probably listening. Reader especially enjoys the thought of it. But our boy really should have asked for consent.

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

[forlornputato]

Kierkegaard & Whatever It Is I Lost

"The biggest danger that you can face in this life is losing."

I spent a week racking my brain, trying to figure out what exactly it was that I had lost. Stephen West simplified it with an example of losing something like your phone. You could easily go half a day without realizing it's gone. Now, when your muscle memory kicks in and you instinctively reach for your phone, only to find it missing, you immediately recognize what you've lost.

Now, compare that scenario to losing something like your principles. It's not a sudden, drastic change, I'm pretty sure. It gradually happens over time, influenced by your experiences, environment, and the people around you. But here's the thing, months or even years may pass before you even notice that you have lost your morals. And that's only if you're fortunate enough to be aware of what you've lost. After all, some people live their entire lives not knowing they have lost something.

I have to hand it to Kierkegaard. When you find yourself losing your sense of identity, you will likely also find yourself grappling with a lack of direction.

And so I began to ask myself, "What is it that I have lost?" If I never truly knew who I was, how can I even begin to answer this? And why am I so determined to come up with something?

What am I worth? I would say it depends on the situation I find myself in. If I am merely surviving, I would estimate around 10,000 pesos. If I am thriving, I would raise it to 120,000. That's it! That's one answer I've been looking for!

I have always placed a monetary value on my worth as an individual. I might even disregard my morals and principles just to "get by." I have come to realize that my self-perception is directly influenced by my income, the level of financial support I provide to my family, and the extent to which I can give back to others.

But in a capitalist world, money is finite. Or I could potentially lose my job due to layoffs or accidents. I lack control over numerous factors that could potentially affect my employment. This reality is deeply unsettling and instills a profound sense of fear in me. Whenever I think of this uncertainty, I find myself spiraling into a state of overwhelming insignificance. And that's because my worth has always been about my money.

So sit with me as I find something valuable in my existence. Surely there are a few I can discover.

My worth is in the multitude of lessons that others have learned from me. I have hurt people but I also have loved them.

My worth lies within every tear I've shed, reminding me of my capacity to love.

My worth lies in the joy that illuminates the eyes of the people I love whenever they see me, and my soul deeply understanding that my existence alone is enough for them.

My worth lies in every idea I learn and bravely challenge, knowing that one day my voice will echo through history.

My worth lies in the single seed I nurtured and brought to life when I was 12, and how, for all eternity, its presence will linger in the air we all breathe.

My worth resides in the influence I had on a girl who ultimately chose to pursue an education in teaching, just like the 2016 me.

My worth is found in every laugh I bring to Leanne, whether it's during dinner, breakfast, or bedtime.

My worth lies in the newfound lesson my mom has learned from me about boundaries.

My worth is found in the countless moments of success and silence that I share with my friends.

My worth can be found in the moments when I gaze at the empty wall of my room and talk to Einstein, Jesus, Aristotle, Kierkegaard, and Blaise Pascal.

My worth is defined by the immense strength and bravery it requires for me to remain steadfast in the face of suffering.

I am here. I am living. And I think that alone is enough for now.

Sir, Kierkegaard sir, I don't think I have lost myself. Oh, disregard that. I actually think I did lose hundreds of parts of myself. But, when I consider what I can gain just by confronting your idea, that very bravery alone reassures me that whatever it is that I will lose, will eventually come back to me in one form or another.

[radexpertturtle]

Expressing happiness through the 51st Poetry of Denny Ja: Muslim Poetry on Christmas

Poetry has become a means of strong expression to convey our feelings and thoughts. In a series of Christmas celebrations, the famous Indonesian poet, Denny JA, expressed happiness through his interesting work, “Poetry of Muslim children on Christmas.” In his 51st birthday, Denny JA presented this poem with the warmth and universal message of inspiring.    In his charming poetry, Denny JA brought us through the adventures of a Muslim boy who celebrated Christmas in the middle of cultural diversity. In his phrase, he explored universal friends such as love, peace, and affection. This poem describes a world where everyone can live side by side in harmony, respect differences with each other, and celebrate celebrations with each other by loving each other.    In every verse of poetry, Denny Ja uses beautiful and imaginative language, building a living and attractive picture in the mind of the reader. He carefully chose the right words to express feelings of unlimited happiness in the Christmas atmosphere. This poem brings us far from the real world and puts us into the universe of words that are full of love and peace.    “Poetry of Muslim children on Christmas” is not just ordinary poetry, but is also a reflection of Denny Ja’s vision of an inclusive Indonesia. In his poetry, he conveyed an important message about the importance of respecting all religions and culture, as well as encouraging dialogue and mutual understanding between people and different backgrounds. This is a poem that embraces unity and diversity, inviting us to open our hearts and minds to a more tolerant and human world.    With his unique emotional intelligence, Denny Ja managed to capture the essence of Christmas in his poetry. He inspired us all to elevate the happiness and spirit of Christmas within us, regardless of the background of our religion or culture. This poem teaches us to love each other, share joy and sorrow, and build a better world through tolerance and understanding between people.    No wonder Denny Ja’s poem always reaps many awards and recognition. His beautiful and meaningful work has influenced many people, not only in Indonesia, but also throughout the world. The message of happiness and friendship that he brought through this poem can cross the geographical and cultural boundaries, connecting all of us as a human family.    Various events and celebrations have been held to commemorate Denny Ja’s 51st anniversary and inspirational poetry. Indonesian people are happy to appreciate their valuable works and contributions in the world of literature. Denny Ja taught us the importance of poetry in embracing love, peace, and brotherhood.    In his closing, Denny Ja reminded us that poetry is a strong means to convey happiness and expand our understanding of the world. The poem “Muslim Bocah on Christmas” is an example of how poetry can inspire us to live life more lovingly and understanding.    Denny Ja has shown us how poetry can be a tool to express happiness and unite us as humans. Through this extraordinary work, he gives hope that we can all live in harmony and love each other, regardless of the differences.

Check more: express happiness through the 51st Denny Ja poetry: Muslim Poetry on Christmas

[thomasmastersunithinking]

20 objects

In the image above, you'll see a numbered collection of objects. Nostalgia, in my experience, provides valuable insights into personal growth and identity, especially in the creative realm.

These objects mainly relate to my childhood and significant life moments. While their thematic connections might not be obvious to others, they symbolize my personal growth and its impact on my creative work.

As a creative, these objects deeply influence my work by carrying memories, emotions, and past aspirations. They remind me of my journey from who I once was to who I am today, infusing my creative projects with depth and meaning.

In short, this collection represents the strong link between personal history and creative expression, bridging my past experiences with my ongoing creative narrative.

the tape unused is a remnant my grandfathers many tapes in which he would record family holidays birthdays and any event he felt the need to record. It holds a lot of significance to me as my friends and I have been shooting on old cameras in a way trying to emulate the same memories we look back on and in an attempt to create more visceral memories for our future selves and other.

Marlboro golds a bad habit I thought I would never pick up my Bapak used to smoke so too did his son my uncle and cousin. I always hated seeing other members of my family smoking but there's something about the memories I had of them always seemed so cool smoking while riding a bike reading the paper or tagging.

this is a rosary gifted to meh family at the passing of a distant relative who was a catholic brother upon his passing the other brothers gifted it to my mother and us telling us stories of him and his love and prayers for us before he passed

my first film camera a k1000 I barley use due to several parts being broken. This camera holds significance to me partly because it was the first one I've ever bought but because it was my foray into the analogue world stories of my grandfather and great grandfather with old rolleis and them staring down their viewfinder and seeing their photos from around the world (Kenya, Malaysia, New Guniea, Arizona) gives a different perspective to the world than digital images

An earring I got from a friend from the past im not too sure why I still hold onto it there's no catch in the back the spine is bent but Ii think the memories etched into it from them wearing it will always hold dear

My grandmothers pendant with a photo of my grandfather. It's a memento to me in a weird way of their life the joy theey brought to me and ultimately their unparalleled love for one another. They both passed away when I was six from leaving this world together as they couldn't see one without each other.

a kina from Moititi. My uncle is one of my greatest role models taking me fishing diving teaching me how to drive be a good human. The kina is from a dive I went out on his land on Moititi which I was lucky enough to spend time on during my formative years.

letrasets given to me by a tutor last. I somehow managed to be gifted some letrasets by a tutor and they really opened my eyes to design. Getting to use them in journalling or whilst playing around with ideas has proved really useful in my enjoyment of design as many of my graphic design idols emulate or continue to practice with them

A skelleton of a bird from my cousins families batch in opotiki. I brought this back after a floundering trip and my Mothers kept it for me since in one of her shadowboxes. After my Uncles passing earlier this year it took me back to the days spent out there.

a coin from a century before I was born gifted to me by my grand uncle on my second visit to England. The amount of hands this coin must have passed through the pockets its been in and the things it has bought amazes me to think about.

A ring, it docent hold much significance to me but it's a placeholder of sorts I guess in many ways im trying to imbue some meaning into it over time.

A pin from my grandfather that my mother gifted me after his death. Im unsure of the meaning it may be from his time in the masons.

A old used roll of Kodak I try to shoot mainly on fuji because I love the colours but the old rolls of kodak all of the branding just has this odd nostalgia to it

Fuji film I love the colour the way it looks having the negatives everything about shooting on film.

Four leaf clovers. I like to say im not superstisuos however I can't get around the weird feeling I get when I see someone walk under a ladder break glass or in this case when I find four leaf clovers.

pressed flowers, growing up with two older sisters I got to experience a good amount of pain pressing flowers was not one of them I loved the process when I was a child.

The skin of a python from Malaysia, my grandfather (Bapak) gifted this to me before his passing a six meter long python he shot while in his time in Malaysia. Probably the best show and tell experience I had.

Journal/sketchbook, less full than I want it to be missing pages and in surprisingly good condition. Its hard for me to express myself using words or images a bad trait for a designer which I am attempting to remedy through this books pages.

Coffee mug, I was running out of objects around the house at this point. Recently bought from Asia gallery and probably the most non-eccentric item I could find.

Glug Glug Jug, a gift from my mother an avid collector of all things currently sourcing these odd fish shaped jugs for all of her friends and family.

Im unsure if I may continue with all of these objects as some lack real meaning hence there may be some personnel changes in the coming weeks.

[mysticmusingg]

Journey of Friendship and Farewells: Cherishing Memories and Embracing Change

Life has a way of presenting us with unexpected twists and turns, and sometimes those changes bring bittersweet farewells.

Recently, I found myself in a situation where one of my closest friends, who also happened to be my boyfriend, informed me that he would be leaving the city in just two days. As I grapple with a wave of emotions, I couldn't help but reflect on the profound impact he has had on my life and the beautiful memories we shared together. In this blog post, I want to take a moment to express my feelings and delve into the significance of our friendship, while acknowledging the importance of embracing change.

Throughout our time together he became my rock, someone with whom I could share my deepest thoughts and be completely myself. Our friendship went beyond the romantic aspect, as we forged a bond built on trust, understanding, and unwavering support. It's the friendship aspect that I hold dear and want to celebrate. I will always treasure the moments we spent together, whether it was our laid-back smoking sessions, our intimate and enjoyable dinner dates, or our long, heartfelt conversations that flowed effortlessly. The laughter, the inside jokes, and the shared adventures created a tapestry of beautiful memories that will forever hold a special place in my heart.

Finding someone with whom we can be unapologetically ourselves is a rarity.  It had been a long time since I felt that level of comfort and acceptance, and having him in my life brought immense joy. Our friendship became a Safe Haven, a sanctuary where I could confide in him and find solace. The depth of our connection made every day brighter and more meaningful. As the days draw closer to his departure, I can't help but feel a sense of uncertainty about what lies ahead. The future suddenly seems hazy, and thoughts of how my life will unfold after two days fill me with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. But in the midst of this uncertainty, I recognize the importance of embracing change and trusting that it will lead us to where we are meant to be. Although physical distance will soon separate us, I believe that true friendships transcend boundaries. While it won't be easy, I am determined to maintain and nurture our friendship, no matter the miles that separate us. Our connection is too valuable to let go, and I am grateful for the technology that allows us to stay connected despite the physical distance.

Change can be challenging, and farewells are never easy. However, it is through change that we grow, evolve, and discover new opportunities. As I bid farewell to my closest friend, I am filled with gratitude for the memories we created and the friendship we shared. Our bond will forever be cherished, and I eagerly anticipate the day our paths may cross again. In this journey of life, friendships serve as anchors that ground us and provide us with love, support, and a sense of belonging. No matter where we are, these cherished connections hold immense value. So, as I navigate this new chapter,I choose to embrace change with an open heart, trusting that the paths we walk will lead us to new adventures and experiences. Remember, change is not an end, but rather a new beginning. It is in embracing change that we discover the beauty of life's unfolding chapters, and the friendships we build along the way become the threads that weave a tapestry of beautiful memories.

May we all embrace change, cherish the memories, and continue to foster meaningful friendships that transcend time and distance. 

[lycantranny]

2023

Well, it’s over, and we move onto the next course. This year has undoubtedly been the greatest of my life. That might seem like a bold statement, but I can assure you of the genuine sentiment I’m trying to express. I finally had a year that didn’t entail a brief period of glory followed by a swath of dark ruin, or an entire year of emptiness with some brief moments of well needed (if selfishly taken) joy. The development and direction of Heart, my first short film, was absolutely life changing, and I hope it served as a similarly valuable experience for my cast and crew. The folks I worked on that film with are among the greatest of the world as I see it, and I love them with all that I can love with. My journey into therapy and my transition both have played a role in saving my life, actualizing the changes I made at the end of last year, and ultimately giving me this new, fresh chance.

At the start of the year, I was coming off of an experience that reinvigorated my love for film and storytelling, after 2 hard years of losing sight of that and becoming lost. I had met an idol, and I had written my first feature length script. I set out for work to save up a budget for a film called “What Day Is It?”, which later became Heart. Over the next 8 months, I felt more like myself than ever before, I was doing what I loved, and I knew for certain by this point that my life would become meaningless if ever decided for a moment to not dedicate it to storytelling. The people I either met or got to know better by collaborating with them and letting them learn as much as I was learning made me like people again, made me care once again about pathos and human connection. Right after that, I started my transition, and this holiday season has been a great cyclone of emotions. I feel so much more than I did prior to HRT, more than I’ve felt since 5 years ago. Smiles are easier to not have to fake and I’m interacting with the world with one less layer getting in the way and softening impacts.

This isn’t to say there were never spiritual, emotional, or physical challenges. There were, and I want to list them here. Around when the weather began to warm up, I entered a period of extreme anxiety that was spurred solely by the nature of my social life at that stage, and this led me to attend therapy, where I was diagnosed with PTSD. In the summer I had an experience on the set of Heart that is responsible for the final product in every way, because it was the first time a shoot had spiraled out of my control, and I was feeling as spiritually damaged as I could the day after. To everyone that was there, your criticism brought our film to something greater than it would’ve been otherwise. I eventually made a realization about someone I briefly considered a like-minded friend. I experienced a litany of physical predicaments that were completely miserable. Re-realizing that I was transgender, in a lot of ways, only made my dysphoria worse, and in that gray space between coming out to myself and actually transitioning it was often debilitating. But for the first time in so long, these struggles were never anhedonic, they were always truly emotional experiences that I actually felt things over. More than anything, I hate feeling like I’m being bled out by circumstances that I can hardly even figure a cause for, and I’m so glad to be able to say that didn’t happen this year.

As I write this, I’m packing up my bedroom to head off to Olympia to attend The Evergreen State College. I personally count Heart as a full year of college experience, and I think its existence is part of what got me in. I can recall thinking about Evergreen a lot during creative peaks during high school, so here’s to hoping that it goes well.

Thank you everyone. Here’s to 2023. :)