#but maybe this is why i always feel kind of on the outskirts of lesbian fashion and expression because ive got this otherness to me...

[variantoutcast]

I never really understood gender fluidity like not in a bad way it's just kind of a foreign concept to me but as I've grown and changed as a person my own identity has remained fairly unstable and I sometimes wonder if I want to apply the term to myself. But I don't know if the way I use it would mesh with the common definition or understanding

[this-is-a-love-story-fleabag]

Fork you, then (5/?)

Fleabag saves her friend Boo’s life and earns a spot in the Good Place, but is everything here really so perfect? And what’s up with the hot priest next door? 1201 words. Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4. Also on ao3.

At some point, I should probably go and talk to Eleanor about how the guinea pigs that are destroying the neighbourhood are probably some kind of physical manifestation of my psychic pain, but right now I'm sprawled out over the priest's sofa with a belly full of pancakes while we compare notes on our secondary school war stories. I do not want to move.

"I'm just saying," I insist, waving a hand at him listlessly from within my food coma. "Harmless lesbian experimentation with one's peers is supposed to be a mainstay of teenage girl sleepover experiences, but you wouldn't believe how much work I had to put into persuading all of them."

"A real labour of love, wow," says the priest from behind an enormous mug of tea, basking in the morning light like a large, muscular cat. "I'm not going to ask how you cracked it."

Strip Twister, but whatever.

At some point, I should probably go and talk to Eleanor about how the guinea pigs that are destroying the neighbourhood are probably some kind of physical manifestation of my psychic pain, but right now I'm sprawled out over the priest's sofa with a belly full of pancakes while we compare notes on our secondary school war stories. I do not want to move.

"I'm just saying," I insist, waving a hand at him listlessly from within my food coma. "Harmless lesbian experimentation with one's peers is supposed to be a mainstay of teenage girl sleepover experiences, but you wouldn't believe how much work I had to put into persuading all of them."

"A real labour of love, wow," says the priest from behind an enormous mug of tea, basking in the morning light like a large, muscular cat. "I'm not going to ask how you cracked it."

Strip Twister, but whatever.

"What do boys do at sleepovers? Pillow fights?"

"We mostly just played Street Fighter."

"Ah, so you spent the night hadoukening each other." I do my best to make this sound dirty. "Not that different, then."

He gives me a fond look and changes the subject. "Were you a girly girl?"

"Not really. I always quite liked it when people mistook me for a boy. You can get away with a lot more stuff."

"How about these days?"

"You mean, am I a woman-ey woman?"

"Yeah."

I wrinkle my nose for a second, thinking. "It doesn't matter so much any more. I mean, I have the genitals, but... it's great being an adult, I can wear dresses and still climb trees whenever I want and nobody can really stop me."

"That's one good thing about being a priest," he agrees, "you can wear dresses in a lot of situations where it would usually be considered inappropriate."

"They're very freeing, aren't they? As long as you don't mind people seeing your knickers." I never mind people seeing my knickers.

In fact, I rather encourage it.

"Your discourse on gender is very nuanced," he smirks. "Have you thought of writing a paper on it?"

"Fork you."

I actually like that he's both a man of God and a sarcastic bastard. Very well-rounded.

Once I've recovered from the pancakes, I reluctantly bid him goodbye to make my way up to Eleanor's office to come clean about the guinea pig debacle.

"If you want to talk more, I'll be here," he assures me as I walk out of his door, waving to me like a huge dork.

I'm so in there.

Eleanor is nowhere to be found when I arrive, but Michael is pacing the room in a bit of a tizzy.

"Come in, I'm so sorry about all this," he says, waving me through the door. "I don't know what's gone wrong in the neighbourhood!" he frets. "It's supposed to be a paradise, not some horrible swamp full of rodents of unusual size."

"R.O.U.S.'s? I doubt they exist," I say automatically.

"What?"

"Never mind. Look, this was definitely my fault."

"Oh, that's nice of you to say," he says faintly, dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief, "but it must have been us."

"Michael, I'm not nice," I say intensely. "That's my point. I forked up every good thing in my life and now I'm forking up heaven. You need to reassess me."

He sits down at his desk with a heavy sigh. I can tell he doesn't believe me, but he wants to make me feel better. "Fine," he huffs. "I'll ask you some questions about your life on earth and then we can go through the main points-affecting actions you made and we'll see if we made a mistake, but I just don't think that's what the problem is."

He brings out a little cube, which glows white as he places it down on the desk between us.

"Right, I guess we should start with the basics." He consults a list in front of him, written in an incomprehensible language. "Have you ever 'liked' a tweet that was written by Piers Morgan?"

"Ugh, no." The little box honks and turns green.

"OK. Have you ever scanned an item at the self-service checkout at the supermarket as carrots, to avoid paying full price?"

I have to think about that one for a second - it sounds like the kind of thing I would do, but it had never really occurred to me. "No?" I say eventually. The box honks green again. Phew.

"Did you ever become emotionally invested in an episode of the Jeremy Kyle show?"

"No." I mean, I have watched it, but if you want me to get emotionally invested in a TV show you have to make the people more attractive.

He puts down his pen. "See, you've done very well on the preliminary questions, but I guess we can still check your file." He flips through the sheaf of papers in front of him. "OK, here's the main list of point-losing activities from your time on Earth. It all seems fairly standard, nothing that really stands- oh," he finishes, alighting on one entry.

This is it, this is where he finally finds out about Boo, and what I did, and-

"It says here that you once slut-shamed... a pizza?" he says incredulously, screwing up his face to squint at the page.

I'm stunned into silence for a second. He's not actually wrong, though. "I didn't do it out loud," I manage weakly.

"Yeah, well, it still counts," he says, scanning through the text. "OK, maybe this needs another looking over, but I really don't think you have anything to worry about. Why don't you go out and enjoy the sunshine?"

"That pizza was asking for it," I mumble as I walk out of the door.

"That cannot possibly be the case," Michael calls out after me.

Whenever I need to clear my head, I go for a run. There's a cleanup operation going on in the town square, but nobody asks me to help, so I don't have to. This place is full of nice little paths and big green fields to jog through, and I power through them as fast as I can, lungs burning. How fast do you have to run before you can outrun your problems?

I used to go jogging through the graveyard every day, pop in and say hi to mum and then get on my way. It wasn't a big deal, it was just a convenient place to run.

There's a huge tree on the outskirts of the neighbourhood, with a broad, sturdy nook in the centre that looks like it would be comfortable to sit in. Remembering my earlier conversation with the priest, I decide on a whim to climb it, shinning up the trunk and squeezing between the branches until I make it into the centre, where I can lie down along the wide bough and look out over the landscape. There are trees dotted everywhere, vivid blossoms, vast shimmering lakes, and perfect blades of grass as far as the eye can see.

It's a beautiful place. I'm going to fucking destroy it if someone doesn't stop me.

[rosella1356]

Two 11/11/11 Tags

Thank you to @bookenders and @dreamingofstarslight for tagging me.

1.       What’s the last book you read? What did you think of it?

The last book I read was Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor. I loved that book. It was such an interesting story. Is it right to kill children for their parent’s sins? Should children try to kill you if you’re trying to kill them first? These are the moral challenges that most of the main characters face, and yet there is no good answer. Neither side is wrong in their justification, but that means the bloodshed will continue for even longer.

2.       What’s the one word you always misspell even though you totally know how to spell it?

The word sword. Don’t ask me how, but somehow it always ends up as sworb.

3.       What do your OCs smell like? If you could publish your WIP with scented pages, what would you want it to smell like?

I’ll choose my top three OCs because otherwise this post would be too large for anyone to understand what was happening. Daisy smells like the middle of a thunderstorm, soaked and yet full of potential. Adrian smells like peppermint and pine in sharp contrast with each other. Lulu smells like nothing, if you get close enough to her to actually be able to try and smell a scent, you won’t be able to smell anything. For my WIP, Lost would be the actual old book that’s just opened smell; Hidden Realms would be something sweet maybe cherry pie; Destined for War should smell like smoke, just that would be perfect; and Silence would be something woody, maybe pine like Adrian.

4.       Your OC is given a pair of boots that mute the sound of their footsteps. What kind of shenanigans do they get into with these sweet new kicks?

Oh god. None of my current OCs are good enough people not to abuse this power. Adrian, Daisy, and the entire cast of Lost would use those to conquer the government and kill the queen, no question. Vivian would probably start running in whatever direction the fae weren’t in. Kairavi would start like 18 wars in under 24 hours, please don’t give her more power. She’s already started one war; I don’t need her to get ideas about more. Lulu might be the most controlled of all of them. She’d just prank her brother, granted that might lead to her brother murdering like an entire city.

5.       How did you decide on the setting for your WIP?

What setting? All of my books have large amounts of scene changes. Lost is them trying to save the entire planet, which means they have to travel the whole world. Hidden Realms initially had a setting in what was once the outskirts of the Roman Empire, now Hungary, but then they ticked off the Church, so they fled to the Americas, but then they found out about an entirely new realm with dragons and went off to that realm. Silence is going to be in some woods somewhere, but I haven’t gotten far enough to figure that out. It starts in NYC. Destined for War starts in Pakistan, but ends in the realm of Gods that doesn’t currently have a name.

6.       Your OCs are given a vast array of finger paints. What do they create?

I’ll do my top three again because this is already a super large post. Adrian would likely draw the winter palace and the family he left behind there. There would probably be tear marks on the page, he’ll deny them, but they’re there. Daisy would probably throw the paint on the page and create some abstract mess to call art. Lulu would spend hours making sure she got every detail of Octavian mapped out on canvas, again. She’s done this before. Like every time she has free time. Don’t worry about why she draws him on repeat. (author moves out of view)

7.       How many times do you rewrite a draft? Or, how many drafts of a story do you go through before arriving at the final draft? Which story has/had the most drafts?

Gosh I don’t know. Lost is the only one I’ve finished the first draft for because I just started writing last year, so I’m planning on 7 drafts. I don’t know if I’ll keep that plan.

8.       What’s your favorite line from your least favorite book? Or, what is your least favorite line from your favorite book?

Least favorite line from my favorite book is actually in Harry Potter from Albus Dumbledore when he says “We must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy?”. I don’t disagree with the principle of the quote. In fact I agree that it is a choice most people will have to make. But I can not stress this enough. This burden falls on adults, not children. If you make a child make this choice, I will come find you and beat the absolute shit out of you. Children should not have to fight wars that their parents started before they even reach adulthood. Mini rant over.

9.       What questions do you ask yourself when drafting a WIP?

So I don’t generally start a draft until I know what all the major events are and what order they are occurring in. That means I tend to ask myself: what is the plot? Why do my characters give a shit? What am I doing to these poor characters? Generally, the answer is just pain. I like putting my characters through a whole lot of shit.

10.  A fellow writer once said that “we’ve all trapped Sims in the swimming pool.” What are the “trapping Sims in the pool” moments in your stories?

Oh my god. In Hidden Realms, I killed a character in order to force the issue of the Holy Roman Empire to attack our main characters. Only I realized after I wrote that, that it meant one point of view wasn’t going to cut it when half the plot takes place after death. I had to go change the entire story to have 6 point of views. I’m still screaming at myself.

11.  What’s your favorite bad metaphor?

She had brown eyes like mud. (yes I know this is a simile, but still.)

12.  Do you have any pets in you WIP(s)??

Daisy has a pet raven, and a pet mountain lion. I mean they’re not really pets, so much as companions, but it counts. I think Vivian has a fish in her office, but like it doesn’t have a name and her brother is the one who feeds it, so does it count?

13.  How many story names have you gone through so far?

Lost was always Lost. Hidden Realms didn’t have a title for about a year, then suddenly one of my friends started referring to it as the book series in which all the realms are found, and then Hidden Realms became the title. It’s the title of the series though. The first book is called the “The merging of Realms.” (The readers won’t understand its meaning until the second book, but that’s called foreshadowing.) The Destined series came about because of a moodboard made for the main character where someone summarized her as Destined for War and I went “oh that’s perfect for the whole series.” Silence is a shitty placement title, so I can refer to the book. It definitely won’t be marketed as that. If you have suggestions for it, please tell me.

14.  Are there any important bodies of water in your story??

We cross the ocean in like all of them, so yes. All the oceans. Just all of them. A couple important rivers too.

15.  Describe an oc with ten or less words,,,

Daisy: A wild fae with anger management issues.

Adrian: A prince who really wants family but never succeeds.

Lulu: A vampire with a human fiancé and twin witch children.

16.  What was the inspo behind your story’s name?

Haha. I kind of answered those in question 13 except for Lost. Lost is a book about children choosing a revolution that will almost certainly kill them in order to save a world that was lost centuries if not millenniums before they were born. So they are Lost ones. The title should be Lost.

17.  What’s the most you’ve written in one day?

If you mean new words, I once hand-wrote five chapters in an 8 hour car ride to avoid dealing with grief. If you mean most written period, I typed 31,756 words in three hours from a journal I had hand-written it in.

18.  Are there any couples in your story that you find really cute??

Lulu and Octavian are goals. Daisy and Leahsidhe are my baby lesbians, who definitely don’t get a happy ending. Please don’t ship them. It does not end well. I’m a terrible person.

19.  Do any of your pc’s have allergies? If so, what??

Do any of them have allergies? I have a gut feeling Balthazar has some allergies, but he is not fully developed yet, so I can’t easily tell you what they are. Its some kind of plant. We’re going to find out when they move to the woods.

20.  Is there any lgbt+ rep in your story?

There is a shit ton. I am lgbt+, so are the vast majority of my characters. Adrian is asexual. Daisy is pansexual. Leahsidhe is bisexual. Ruby is lesbian. Suno and Balthazar are gay. Those are the ones who have names. I have ideas for other works that have so many sexualities, its going to be an adventure.

21.  Do any of your oc’s have tattoos?

Rose has an entire sleeve on both arms. They’re for all the 28 of the members of the revolution. When Daisy’s baby is born, she adds one for her too. Its one of the only happy scenes in Lost. (author runs away)

22.  What’s your favourite friend pairing trope?

Friend pairing trope. Being able to communicate without talking. I love that shit.

 My questions for people:

1.       Who is your favorite OC?

2.       How many WIPs do you have?

3.       How often do you write?

4.       Why did you get into writing?

5.       Have you created any moodboards for your work and if so what are they?

6.       Where do you write most?

7.       What’s your favorite part of writing?

8.       What is your favorite quote?

9.       Are there any authors who inspired you to start writing?

10.  If you had to publish one of your WIPs right now with no more editing, what would you choose?

11.  What is your favorite genre?

Tagging people: @marewriteblr @quartzses @elizabethsyson @rainy-rose @awritinglen @scottishhellhound @cometworks @cheshireinunderland @writing-is-a-bitch @writebruh @comfypitbull

[familycryptid]

Pride Month! And what it means for your local nonbinary pal!

It’s pretty obvious that I love pride month because throughout my life, it’s been a process trying to understand sexuality and gender identity but seeing it all in this positive open forum is genuinely so beautiful and educational. I don’t think I’ve actually ever done a personal post but when it comes to pride month maybe this could help some other people if this specific thought process of mine was detailed in writing? If you’re not interested at all and scroll post immediately, I get it pft, I wouldn’t be interested in me either.

I’m pansexual and nonbinary (if that wasn’t obvious already). Pride month as a whole has always been an eye opening and incredible but also painful experience. For anyone, seeing all these people of different identities from unique walks of life all coming together to rejoice in being part of the LGBT community is comforting but when you’re in the closet, especially when it’s in fear of not your personal comfort but your actual physical safety, it’s disheartening because you can’t openly help celebrate those around you.

You’re stuck being hidden in a shitty closet even when all you want is some simple security in being yourself and you feel like a selfish pile of crap for being jealous of people who can go to pride and wave their flags in solidarity while you feel like a stupid coward because you’re scared of what your family will do if you even glance at a pride flag.

It’s shitty and it’s a reality for a good chunk of the LGBT community, you’re under constant threat from your family, your community and your country because of a factor of yourself that is simply not an option to change.

Personally, I’ve always felt like crap because I thought that I was being way too self centered for being upset that I can’t go to pride but it’s completely fine to support those who can while still feeling like hell because you wish you could go out there and hands on, show your pride.

When it comes to my sexuality, it’s been a fluctuating process of ‘I like girls so I guess I’m a lesbian’ to ‘Maybe I’m bisexual because I’m also kind of attracted to guys??’ until it finally, got to the point where it became, ‘fuck that, idgaf about gender I just like what I like.’ and I firmly landed on pansexuality and I was completely happy with it. The thought didn’t scare and made me feel secure as a person. Many people are terrified of accepting being part of the LGBT because of all of the societal stigma and danger that comes with it but I was lucky enough for at least in that sense, being able to just focus on understanding myself and not giving a shit where I was as long as I found a way to comfortable way describe myself (or not), to just exist in a way that made me feel content.

The major point of contention was probably discovering the nonbinary aspect of myself. I’d dealt with gender dysphoria for almost my entire life, which really began reaching a peak around the age of ten. This helped escalate me to a suicidal depression nearing adolescence because it led to a spiral of thoughts consisting of ‘why the hell does everything just feel so wrong all the fucking time’, that mixed into a consistent, debilitating sense of self hatred that never left but hit back with greater strength every time I looked in a mirror and saw the signs of bodily growth and maturity that left me in a state of complete confusion and instability. This coupled with all of the other outside factors in my life made it a living nightmare. When learning more about the community, I struggled with the notion that I could be trans because I hated my feminine body that just seemed so wrong wrong wrong in every sense and I was left with this destructive desire to either change something, anything or just ruin myself until there was nothing left to hate.

What many people still don’t understand about the community is that many of us experience a sense of frustration and hatred towards our own identities that wouldn’t be wished upon our worst enemies.

Then, there was this part of my life where I was left completely stuck because trying to present in a more traditionally masculine sense and using he/him pronouns did nothing to quell the voice that was screaming WRONG WRONG WRONG DO SOMETHING YOU IDIOT WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU FUCKING DOING on repeat and I was left with nothing but more confusion and a mounting self loathing because why the hell couldn’t I just figure it out already.

We’re often not kind enough to ourselves to allow time in order to be comfortable with what and who we are.

At that point, being she had left me feeling cheated out of who I’m really supposed to be while being he just left me feeling like I just didn’t fit into anything, like a broken shell of a person that was completely on the outskirts.

What I didn’t quite yet understand was that it wasn’t necessary to neatly fit into any single identity. I thought I was restricted to only strictly either male or female and when neither of those did anything to calm the dysphoria, I thought maybe I’d have to resign myself to feeling this disgusting, gut wrenching displacement 24/7 for the rest of my life and if that was so, what the hell even was the point of being around?

Then, I came across a certain YouTube channel and when I heard ‘nonbinary’ during the intro, it led me to doing research until I learned something else new. I wasn’t as restricted as I thought I’d been. I poured over the internet, watching videos, entertaining ideas, listening to accounts and personal stories while rolling around ‘they/them’ in my mouth and for the first time, it actually felt right. When I found the pride Q&A video Thomas posted in 2017, I spent the night hypertuned to whatever Jo, Tayln or Joan said, smiling like an idiot and sobbing because I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT ALL OF YOU MEAN.

For the first time, it felt like someone understood on the deepest level possible what I’d been feeling throughout the entirety of the darkest period of my life. I took a few weeks to just situate myself to the realization before going to the most supportive friend I’d ever had and spilling out all the hell that I’d been feeling and how I finally FUCKING UNDERSTOOD MYSELF. She was a blessing in all the hell and it was the most cathartic night of my life because it was out there after months of just completely situating myself to the realization and I was met with complete support and acceptance. I spent the entirety of that night happy sobbing too. That night was the first time I’d seen myself only referred to as them by someone else and I finally fucking felt ok.

I understood myself and why I’d been stuck in this constant spiral of SOMETHING ISN’T RIGHT for all of these years. The first person I told greeted me with just as much excitement and with nothing but love. The few close friends I told a couple weeks later were only upset that I hadn’t let them known sooner so they could’ve already started using my proper pronouns.

There’s still days where the voice comes back, nagging that I’m not whole, that I’m empty and disgusting but they’re easier to handle and there’s more days of calm than before. I’m still struggling but now I feel like there’s a real reason to try.

Thank you to everyone who actually read through this mess, thanks to Thomas, Jo, Talyn and Joan who actually helped lead me to this point and thank you to all of my friends who didn’t make me feel like any less of a person because of who I am. I hope all of you have support in your lives, whether you’re still questioning or just trying to get by in a world that doesn’t accept you for you. We’re strong, we’re real and we’ll get past this. Happy pride month ❤️

@thatsthat24

[artofaboythatoncewas]

Cars 3

Libra: Acura NSX. Immortalize me in stone for all I care: it won't matter when I'm six feet under. «Libi, you’re too old for your age to have the pessimistic thoughts of a teenager. You’ve been far more disappointed than them to come to those conclusions!» Agh, I know, I know, but the thought of impermanence just gets to you once in a while. I wish I could’ve been one of those weirdos who takes a picture of themselves every morning for every day to document their ageing in such a way that’s shockingly dreadful after a couple hundred photos. The concussion I had when I was a teenager didn’t turn me into one of those savants who could remember the exact details of each day of their life… Eh, what else? Oh, I’ve only cataloged any excitement in my life within the suffocating walls of the library: There’s memoirs of my experiences behind my desk, and you gotta be a special someone to have access to them while I’m still alive. «Libi, all you put in there is corny jokes and write-ups about exact status of each book; believe me, it’s not exciting.» [,] Pfft, it’s the same with all of you; that attitude is just fueling my boredom! Thus, making me want to catalog even more. Be lucky I’m not tossing another book at you. «Yeah, I still have the scar from last april when a hardcover copy of Catcher and the Rye hit my lower back.» Hey, I thought it wouldn’t hurt that much, because I got a dozen of the things in all the various editions, releases, repackagings, and promotions. I was confident I tossed you the one that was the wimpiest. Besides, that’s something you could remember fondly in this moment! You might not be able to remember it a couple years down the line… «You also might not be alive a couple years down the line, so maybe don’t spend your precious days throwing things at me.» At that point, this place is yours for the keeping and my diaries are yours to browse! <Yellen tends to her work once again.> […] «On second thought, that shot was somewhat awful, let’s go out on the range and brush up on your accuracy. And remember the silencer! You don’t want the patriarchs finding out about your professional shooting.»

Cancer: Mazda Miata. Out of all the dark voids I've been in, this is the most ominous. The year is who-cares A.D., the day is Sexta-feira, and Disturbia is still the best pop song ever made since its inception in 2008… Well, maybe it’s not the best. Lights by Ellie Goulding is a strong contender for the best pop song ever made… I’m sure this void has a great taste in music too: I’m guessing it likes more classical variations of Fado given where I managed to stumble into it, but I could be making assumptions there. The void could have just as varied and distinct tastes as I do. I mean, it’s kind enough to offer me some sort of audio refraction, so I can thankfully hear myself whenever I make a sound in the blackness… Yeah, this void has been quite accommodating despite being so off-putting, but maybe I was being too harsh in my initial judgements. […] You know, dark void, I think we got off on a bad start: My name’s Springe and I’ve lived in southwest Córdoba for fifteen years after I was relocated from my birthplace in… Oh, I forgot that I don’t remember where I was born. I just know I was born on this continent and that was it. For my accomplishments, I’ve been employed at an after-hours clinic for eleven of those total years and I’ve long gone past the point of worrying if I’ll make it to the point where I can find a higher paying job: That’s why I appreciate what you’ve done for me so far, void. I appreciate you because I’m used to failure, and you’re the realization that failure isn’t always what we hype it up to be. Sometimes… it’s just somber and reflective. I’m not even reflecting on how I failed, rather I’m reflecting on why I pursued victory in the first place. […] Void, I wanna thank you for the time you’ve spent with me here, and I wanna let you know that my first impressions were inaccurate. From my conversations with you, you seem like a very personable void with a lot to talk about and a very cultured mind that can talk for hours. As much fun as it’s been, we have to depart. So long, dark void, you’ve would’ve made a great podcast co-host… Hey, who said you would have made a great co-host? You can still be one! We can sit in here for hours and just pretend to record a podcast with our lack of recording equipment. We’ll call it… the Eternity Flame.

Virgo: Type 57 Atlantic. Okay, you know, I admit: I might be mildly obsessed with the idea of Guy Fieri as a cute lesbian with frosted, spiky hair and button-up shirts who goes around talking about Flavortown. I really feel like making up another goth friend for her to be with, but I don’t want her to be just another generic goth you know: I wanna diversify my goths as much as possible, like creating a lineup of goths to pick and choose from. I want this lesbian Guy Fieri to have a goth girlfriend who isn’t immediately disgusted by the thought of eating at some place like the Heart Attack Grill. She’ll be named something ironic though in contrast to her fearlessness when approaching the western corruptions that are the Heart Attack Grill and other imitators like it — lesbian Fieri would like any sincere appreciation of the Heart Attack Grill because she’s not worried about the health risks; she’s just worried if the food tastes good or not. So, the irony that comes from her girlfriend’s name is hilarious, and her name’s gonna be Электрификация. The electrification of her opposition to disgusting American fast-food places is exemplified towards her electrifying attitude towards a modest approach away from them, hence the name Электрификация. […] I wonder if, like, I can code in some underlying arc about lesbian Fieri needing to find the twelve sacred restaurants and relighting the hidden power beneath them to restore the balance of the… meat and produce industry or whatever. Each restaurant has a different theme associated with them, and each has a tragedy and lesson waiting for our lesbian hero, Fieri, and her girlfriend who acts as a foil character, but in a way that exposes the faults of a common attitude. [,] Oh, maybe the first restaurant will be Lebanese-themed and what lesbian Fieri and her girlfriend encounter is a Dabke ensemble called Goddess County, and they seem normal at first, but then reveal themselves to be the ancient spirits holding the sacred spirit of the restaurant that lesbian Fieri must pacify. Ooh, what if she has to go through a series of challenges all centered around cuisine? […] «Ms. Rusalka, what is this sheet music you’re submitting me? Why is Guy Fieri here and why is he a lesbian with frosted tips and a burger-critical girlfriend that he somehow gets along with?» Um, it’s my project; I’ve been working on it for a while, you see, and I think it’s zany enough to warrant publication. «That's not gonna reach anyone! He's a damn internet meme and the lesbians don't want that, and I don't care how nice of a guy he is!» Excuse me, how are you to assume what lesbians would be interested in? Square up, right now.

Sagittarius: DeLorean DMC-12. Uh, okay, I’ll tell you a story from my recent service in the military. Hold on, let me get one thing before I start. <Rossouw eats one last chip from her bag of kettle-cooked, and she begins positioning her hands so as to make them instruments of verbal storytelling.> "It was five years ago, and I was deployed in the southern border of Angola to assist the army there in their seizure of an abandoned sector of development they believed to be taken over by a terrorist group. I was part of a squad of seven, and we were tasked with infiltrating the largest building in the area. They made sure that any threats of terrorist forces on the outskirts were eliminated or push backed, so we arrived on the front safely.” [,] Before I begin, I should tell you my role in that squad: I was a rifleman given the responsibility of being the main receiver of squad-leader orders, and I had to make sure every other specialist had to follow said orders. The firearm at my side was nothing special, as it was a standard-issue military crossbow that they gave me the liberty to paint a healthy tint of pink and brandish a serial code of… something that ended in eleven. Now, this was before I recognized how stupid an army lifestyle was, but it was also the time where I was promoted from being a simple mechanical worker to being a gun-toter, and that was the turning point for me. Anyways, back to the story. […] “Our leader was Ofc. Bahomana, and they led with us sneaking into the backdoor that was cut open via wire-cutters. Inside was nothing much: Just an expanse of a dark, empty shopping center that could’ve been a nice place for me and my nephew to visit in the summertime, but it just had to be occupied by troublemakers. Through the decrepit sectors of once an active shopping sprawl, we sensed nothing but the sound of pipes leaking and the smell of arcane rust. But despite the emptiness, we were on our toes for any sudden attack… eventually, two hours passed and we seemed to’ve scavenged the entire area only to find no visible threat; mold was the most dangerous thing in that store. [,] All was quaint, until I heard a sudden electrical signal and the center light turned on, and the intercom speakers blasted with the sounds of a boot-up. Immediately, our ears were pounded with the roar of ‘Attention, Kmart shoppers!’ and the doors that we entered through were shut.” [,] I urgently demanded Bahomana what we should do, but all they could do was just sit and stare like a deer in headlights… I kept yelling at them, but they would just become more still. […] Regardless of the sheer terror of the moment, it certainly grabbed our attention.

[hopefulminty]

So, this post exists due to the perfect storm of insomnia, randomly realizing that I had posted on here 99 times (and should therefore do something different for the 100th post), and several of the topics covered below coming up in real life.

In other words, here is an author interview with myself.

Yes, that’s right. I’m actually asking myself a bunch of questions, answering them/TMI-ing all over the place, and posting the results on here.

Insomnia really does make me do weird things... 

Why are you called hopefulminty?

 My username comes from two usernames that I’ve used in the past. The hopeful part’s been around since I was in middle school. Two of my friends and I decided to dress up as hippies for Halloween one year. We called ourselves Faith, Charity, and Hope. I started using variations of the word ‘hope’ for various sites after that. The minty part started when I was in high school. I wasn’t feeling the name ‘hope’ one day, so I looked around the room until my eyes landed on a pack of gum. I said the word ‘minty’ out loud and the rest is history. I will answer online to Hope, Minty, or now Hopefulminty. Any of those are fine.

Who are you?

I don’t like to give out specifics about myself that I feel could be used to identify me. That’s one of the things that was drilled into my head when I was young and actually stuck, so I don’t use my real name online, give my location, etc, etc. (Though I do share stories online that are kind of unique, but I don’t think they could be used to identify me unless you happen to live in this area/know people I know.)

Basically, I’m female, American (east coast, that’s as specific as I’m going to be), somewhere on the ace/demi spectrum, and old enough that I think I’m pretty much a senior citizen in the DEH fandom.

Old enough that when I saw Alex Boniello’s tweet about having shirts that are older than Andrew Feldman, I very quickly thought about my wardrobe, did the math, and laughed because I have at least two t-shirts that I’ve had since I was in elementary school that actually are older than the child who is going to be playing Evan next.

Does that weird you out?

A little bit, but not really. It would if I actually pictured any of the actors while I’m writing. When I do visualize the characters, I picture the versions that solely exist in my head now and don’t particularly resemble anyone who has played the parts.

I will say that I hope for his sake that he’s more emotionally/mentally mature than I was at sixteen. I know there’s no way I could’ve handled being the lead in a popular Broadway show, even if I’d had the talent to pull it off.

Actually, I don’t think I could handle that now. I’d hate the attention and would probably crumble under the pressure.

Is it weird being an older fan?

Again, kind of, but not really. I’ve been in and out of different fandoms since I was old enough to know that they existed. (Eleven, I think?) There’ve been times when I’ve been really active, times when I’ve been a lurker, times when I’ve been on the outskirts and only occasionally popped into something. (Kind of like I am now with DEH, I think.)

I was pretty active in various Harry Potter RPGs when I was in high school. There were players of all different ages in those. The youngest ones were teens, like myself. The oldest players were in their 60s. I thought that was kind of awesome at the time and actually still do.

Should younger fans be wary of older fans?

This is one of the topics that have come up in my real life recently. My sister-in-law found out that my nephew’s on some kind of gaming board and has online friends who are significantly older than him.

I told her that from my experience I’d say it’s not someone’s age you have to be worried about, not if that’s literally the only thing making you pause. It’s not that people hit a certain age and automatically turn into creepers who should be pushed out of fandoms and not allowed to interact with younger fans at all.

Growing up, all my real life friends were super into various fandoms. We were always dragging each other to things and driving each other crazy by going on about our latest obsessions.

A lot of them have given up that part of their lives now. In some cases, they’ve moved on because they’ve had to, because things like work and school and ensuring that their basic needs are met are more important than writing fan fic and venting about annoying plot holes. In other cases, they’ve stopped because they feel like they should stop, because they feel like they’re too old for things they now see as childish.

Do they have a point? Possibly. I don’t really care enough to worry about that though.

I’d say as a general recommendation to fans of all ages, just be smart and safe and trust your instincts. Avoid people and situations that make you uncomfortable and report ones you think might be dangerous.

How long have you been writing?

Pretty much since I learned how to write. I’ve always liked making up stories. My dad loves to tell the story of how he realized that I have a vivid imagination. He says I was about three or four years old and had spent the entire day scouring the house for toys. I’m the Surprise Kid in my family (meaning that my siblings are all older and were totally out of the house by the time I was five), so there were a lot of random toys around when I was growing up.

After hearing me drag things down to the basement all day, my dad finally decided he should go see what I was up to. He went down there and (according to him) there were hundreds of dolls, stuffed animals, and action figures all over the place, arranged in what he could instantly tell was some kind of complicated pattern. He asked me what I was doing and I then proceeded to spend the next ninety minutes (again, according to him, so probably an exaggeration) telling him all about the crazy complicated world I’d created where each toy had a name, a family, and multiple friends/rivals.

When my mom got home that night, he told her they had to be careful because they were raising a creative child.

How long have you been writing fan fic?

Since middle school. The first fic I can remember writing was for the show JAG (another side effect of being the Surprise Kid, you spend a lot of time watching tv with your parents). It was terrible and I didn’t post it anywhere. (It was actually purposely terrible because I was annoyed about having to watch that show all the time.)

The first fics that I posted were about Harry Potter. I also posted a couple Buffy stories when I was in high school.

I haven’t posted a lot of stories because I have a really bad habit of abandoning things that I’m working on. So, I only post something if it’s done or I’m reasonably certain that I’m going to see it through until the end.

Where can your old stories be found?

Nowhere.

Nowhere online, that is. They’re possibly still on my old computer that’s now in my parents’ basement.

I took down everything I’d posted when I was a teenager years ago. I reached a point where I hated knowing that the stories were out there and made them disappear.

Though, actually, there may be an X-Files story out there somewhere that I co-wrote with my best friend when we were fourteen.

But probably not because I think she did a similar purge when we finished high school.

Which Hogwarts House are you in?

I’m a Huffleclaw/Ravenpuff. At eleven, I would’ve been sorted into Ravenclaw. Nowadays, I feel like I’m a combination of the two.

Which Harry Potter do you relate to the most?

Luna. Definitely Luna. Though, my best friend says I’m a really weird combination of Luna and Hermione.

How did you realize you’re asexual?

This is another topic that came up in real life recently because my friend’s cousin thinks she might be ace.

It’s also something I’ve talked about a lot because it’s pretty much the only high school story I have that I think could be a subplot in a YA movie/book. The character based on me would be the baby ace who was sort of mentored by the lead lesbian couple for a couple weeks.

I started feeling like I was different from my friends when I was in fourth grade. I didn’t get it at all when they started going on about having crushes and wanting boyfriends. Everyone told me that would change as I got older, but it never did.

By middle school, people started telling me that I must be gay since I didn’t have any interest in boys. Part of me could see their point, but I didn’t have any interest in girls either and, as far as I could tell, that was a pretty significant part of being gay.

In eighth grade, I went to the mall with two of my friends and we ended up sitting in the food court and people-watching. My one friend elbowed me, pointed to a boy our age, and asked if I thought he was cute. My response (which has become friend group legend, so this is exact) was, “Well, he doesn’t have any visible warts, so maybe?”

My other friend (who was proudly bisexual) then pointed to a girl sitting across from us and asked the same question. I stared at her for a minute before saying that I wondered what conditioner she used because her hair was so shiny.

My friends shook their heads at me and asked if that was really all I was thinking. They touched my arms and assured me they’d still love me if I was gay. 

Which was nice to hear and part of me wished that I thought I was gay because then I’d be something. The problem was that I really didn’t get how people developed crushes on other people. I didn’t get the idea of looking at someone and thinking they were attractive. I didn’t get the idea of wanting to be physical with another person. None of those things made sense to me at all.

The following year, I started going to a really conservative Christian high school. I mean, really conservative. Almost every teacher I had there mentioned at least once that we were doing God’s work when we voted for Republicans.

(In case you’re wondering, no, I wasn’t sent there as a form of punishment. The story of how I ended up there is really long/boring. Just know that my family doesn’t believe the majority of the things I was taught there.)

So, a few things about me:

1.      I’m a really socially/generally anxious, awkward, introverted person. I never shut up around my family and friends, but put me in a room of strangers and I freeze. This was especially true when I was a teenager. (I can almost appear to be “normal” now...)

2.      I’ve had the same basic friend group since elementary school, but none of them went to high school with me. So, I spent four years as an outsider. The tv episode I relate to the most is the episode of Gilmore Girls where Rory was called into the guidance counselor’s office because she liked to eat lunch by herself. That was me. Multiple times. Many, many times. They finally gave up when my mom told them that I had friends outside of school and that I come from a large, close-knit family (I have over 30 cousins, for starters) and I liked spending my lunches alone because they gave me a chance to recharge my internal battery.

3.      I’m pretty much the most non-confrontational person you’ll ever meet. I hate arguing with people and I hate being put on the spot, especially when I feel like I don’t have any allies. I’m so non-confrontational that I wouldn’t correct people when they mispronounced my name when I was a teenager. Which happened a lot because I have a pretty unique real name. I’m slightly better about that now. These days, I’ll correct someone once and then let it slide if they keep saying my name wrong. Unless I know they’re going to become a regular part of my life, then I go through the whole ‘let’s say it together’ thing until they get it right.

4.      I’m also the most “quietly stubborn” person you’ll ever meet. Pretty much everyone I know has called me that at least once. If I’m talking to someone about something that matters to me and I’m convinced I’m right, I will not back down no matter what. Which is the exact opposite of how I am 99% of the time. Usually, I’ll at the very least acknowledge that the other person has a point and try to change subjects. 

So, the point of all that is to show how it was a pretty big deal when I started speaking up in school about things I didn’t agree with. I spoke up when a teacher told the class that women were put on the earth to serve men. I spoke up when another teacher told us that Jewish people go to hell. And I spoke up when a teacher told us that it is impossible for gay people to go to heaven, but it is possible for serial killers to get in.

(The logic for that one being that gay people will never repent because they don’t think what they’re doing is wrong, but it’s possible for serial killers to eventually become remorseful and repent their sins.)

My fairly passionate, but extremely awkward, defense of gay people led my classmates to decide that I must be gay. Which soon meant that the entire school thought I must be gay.

This happened a few weeks before the end of my junior year. Up until that point, I’d managed to fly under the radar for the most part. People who were considered “different” really stood out at my school. Everyone knew who the seven Jewish kids were. Everyone knew which kids liked reading/watching fantasy books/movies because the teachers always cautioned them that things like Harry Potter could lead you astray. (I was in that group, but I was quiet about it. The worst thing that happened to me was that my Spanish teacher said she’d pray for me when she saw I was reading one of the Anita Blake books.)

And everyone knew the lesbian couple. Because there was only one. Because there were only two students in the entire school who were publicly out.

Even I knew who they were, which was semi-surprising because they were seniors and I spent most of my time outside class with my head down, my earbuds in, and my nose stuck in a book.

So, anyway, it didn’t take long for everyone to decide that I was our school’s third lesbian. People started coming up to me and saying they’d pray for me. The first time that happened, I blinked and, without thinking about it, told the girl I’d pray for her too. That seemed to annoy her, so that became my go-to response whenever someone approached me.

At the end of the day, a girl who was considered one of the school’s spiritual leaders asked me if I was sure I was gay because I seemed so nice. I started to say that I wasn’t, but stopped myself when the girl’s friend laughed and said that even I knew how shameful it was to be gay, that I’d just argued with the teacher because I wanted attention.

Which caused a dilemma for me. My sixteen-year-old, panicked, stressed out brain could only see two possible options. I could either pretend to be something that I was fairly certain I wasn’t or I could let those girls go around telling everyone that I, the great defender of gays, knew deep down that being gay was wrong.

So, I stammered that I hadn’t understood their question at first and that yeah, I really was gay.

I spent the next few days avoiding people as much as possible. I started waiting inside for my mom to pick me up at the end of the day instead of going outside with everyone else. On my third day of doing that, the lesbian couple approached me and asked if I knew who they were. I said I did and they said they’d heard I was having a rough week. 

They then asked me a series of questions. Some subtle, some direct. At the end of their interrogation, they exchanged a look and one of them said, “Oh, so you’re asexual then.”

Which is how I learned that asexuality is a thing. I went home and read up on it and was surprised to realize that there actually was a name for what I was. It was really exciting.

Sorry to disappoint, but the lesbians didn’t become my new best friends after that. They only had two more weeks of school at that point and we weren’t in any of the same classes. We didn’t even have the same lunch period. They always made it a point to say hi to me in the hall though and I think I’m still Facebook friends with them.

One day, about a week after they approached me, one of them came running up to me between classes to tell me that her girlfriend had done something stupid. 

Her girlfriend had told a guy who was being obnoxious that they had pulled me into their relationship and we were having all kinds of threesomes.

I didn’t know what to say to that. I think I turned a million shades of red and stuttered uncontrollably for a minute or two. I finally told her that I was okay with that. I said they could say whatever they wanted as long as they didn’t actually expect me to do any of the things they claimed I was doing.

That comment made her grin and say, “Spoken like a true asexual.”

Do you think asexual writers should be allowed to write about characters who aren’t asexual?

This is another question that came up recently. My least favorite brother-in-law loves to say he’s playing devil’s advocate before asking people really annoying/terrible questions. He asked me this one at Thanksgiving this year.

My response was simply that it’s stupid to try to tell people they can only write about characters like themselves. That doing that would make the entire fantasy genre go away and, hopefully, there wouldn’t be any novels about murderers.

Writers like to make up stories and develop characters and relationships. They try to put themselves in their character’s heads and express how they’re feeling.

For me, that sometimes means drawing from my own experiences, sometimes it means thinking about things I’ve seen/heard, and sometimes it means using my imagination to come up with a character’s reaction.

Am I successful at portraying romantic relationships? I really have no idea. I walked away when he asked me that because I’m the absolute worst judge of my own stories. I have a like/hate (never love/hate) relationship with everything I write. I’ll just say that I don’t think being on the ace spectrum should stop me from writing the stories I want to write.

How did you get into DEH?

Another side effect of being the Surprise Kid is that it gives your parents a lot of opportunities to teach you about their interests. My dad managed to get me into British tv shows and my mom successfully managed to pass her love of musicals onto me, though, for her, that love does not extend to DEH. She can’t stand the music from that show.

I got into it when I decided to watch clips from the Tonys on YouTube. I was blown away by ‘Waving Through a Window’ because that song seriously would’ve been my personal theme song if it had come out when I was in high school. So, naturally, I had to find out more about the show. 

I haven’t seen it live, but I have read the script and watched a bootleg. That got me into it enough that I started coming up with stories I wanted to write.

Which character do you relate to the most?

Evan, definitely. I was definitely the awkward, anxious kid in high school. I don’t think I would’ve ended up in the mess he did though...

Do you relate to any of your OCs?

Aunt Jamie is sort of like me, but I wouldn’t say she’s an author insert. I’m the youngest aunt in my family. (I don’t think any of my nieces/nephews think I’m particularly cool though.) I don’t like to be touched/hugged and usually pat people on the arm as a way of saying ‘hey I like you, you’re okay.’

The story about her suicide attempt in Sincerely, E is definitely not my story. I’m lucky enough to be able to say that I’ve never actually tried to kill myself.

Her story about being unpopular/having people make fun of her weight was sort of an exaggeration of mine. Again, I was lucky enough not to have it nearly as bad as she did.

What do you like about Evan/Connor?

I like putting them together because they’re both characters who desperately need someone who understands them. They’re alike in a lot of ways, but different in ways that make them fun to write. I like their relationship dynamic and the ways I make them interact.

Why do you keep writing Zoe/Jared?

I’ve come to see Zoe/Jared as my bastard ship. They’re the ship that I never plan to write, but somehow keep writing.

With Evan and Connor, I always think about how they’re going to get together this time, which tropes I plan to include, etc., etc.

With Zoe and Jared, I literally reach a point in the story where I blink at the screen and go ‘okay, so this is happening again...’

That said, I have come to like my bastard ship. They’re also fun to write.

Are they going to get together in BNK?

I don’t have any current plans to put them together. Which means probably.

Do you hate Zoe/Alana?

Not at all. I have no problem with the idea of them. I have no problem with giving Zoe a girlfriend or Jared a boyfriend. I also have no problem with letting characters stay single (which, to me, is a much more realistic portrayal of the high school experience).

Part of the problem with doing my weird blinders on, tunnel vision writing thing is that I haven’t really read other DEH stories. I didn’t realize Zoe/Alana was a thing until I started looking at summaries of other fics after I finished Sincerely, E.

I’ve briefly considered putting them together each time I start a new story, but now there’s the Tracy situation. And I do like Alana/Tracy. And somehow Zoe/Jared sneaks up on me every time.

So, you really don’t read other DEH stories?

I’ve tried to a couple times. I’ve even downloaded some of the completed ones to my Kindle in case I ever feel the need to read them when I’m out somewhere.

It just becomes a case of character overload for me if I try to read other people’s interpretations of the characters while I’m writing mine.

This particular writing quirk of mine actually used to cause problems for me with my RL friends when I wasn’t the only one writing fics. They’d get mad at me when I’d say I couldn’t read their stories because they were writing for the same fandom that I was writing for.

They’d also get mad when I’d say I hadn’t read their comments. The comment thing is another writing quirk of mine. I try to avoid them until I’m totally finished with a story or, at the very least, close enough to being finished that the thought of looking at the comments doesn’t weird me out.

I’m not always totally successful at that because I also have a weird thing about notifications. Meaning that I can’t stand them. So, if I see there’s a comment, I’ll literally hold my hand up to try to block the screen while I mark it as read. Which doesn’t always work as well as I’d like.

I did try once again to read the comments before starting BNK. I think I even said in the author’s note at the beginning of the story that I’d been binge-reading them. Which ended up meaning that I sort of clicked through my inbox and read about five random comments... Someday, I really will look at them all...

All of that doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate comments/kudos though. It’s always amazing to see that people are reading and reacting to the things I write. I do check the stats page to see if the numbers are going up. If it ever became clear to me that absolutely no one was reading my stories anymore, then I’d stop posting them because I’d feel really awkward and wonder what’s the point of posting something that no one’s even bothering to open.

Are you going to keep writing DEH stories when you finish BNK?

Maybe? I don’t know at this point. I’m not even sure how much longer BNK will be. Judging from the length of my other stories, I’m probably around the halfway point and that currently sounds about right, given what I have planned.

I’ll keep writing about these characters as long as I have ideas for them and am having fun writing the stories. If I run out of ideas or writing these fics stops being fun and starts being a source of stress in my life, then I’ll stop.

Do you have any writing suggestions? How do you deal with writer’s block?

The best writing advice I can give is just to write. Write and then keep writing and then don’t stop writing.

I’ve often described myself over the years as a writer who doesn’t write. And that’s been the case many times for me.

I’ve been writing a ton this past year because the DEH characters have stuck with me and I keep coming up with weird ideas for them. Before that though, I’d gone at least a year without writing much of anything.

I write because I like writing and because it’s a major stress/anxiety reliever for me. I write because it entertains me and gives me something to focus on when I can’t sleep, which is pretty much every night. I often say that I feel like I get more done between 12 AM and 2 AM than some people do all day.

That said, I definitely struggle with writer’s block sometimes. The only thing that ever helps me with that is to walk away. Literally. I close my laptop and walk away from it. I make myself do something else. And then I keep making myself do other things until I’m either ready for bed or a solution to the problem I was struggling with pops into my head.

Almost every story-related idea that I’ve had has occurred to me while I’m doing something totally unrelated to my writing. While I’m not even thinking about it.

It’s really fun when that happens at work. I’ve had times where I’m on the phone, using my cheery customer service voice and being yelled at, and have suddenly come up with what I want Connor to say in the conversation that I was struggling with the night before. At least, I haven’t blurted out any random bits of dialogue yet...

Last question, since no online survey would be complete without this – dogs or cats? 

Guinea pigs. Though, personality-wise, I really would be such a crazy cat lady if I weren’t horribly allergic to them.

[itstimeforanewblog]

Alphas in the tribe, Omega in the city. 

Acting healthy, eating healthy. Is it really not working for me? Why do I feel disconnected from people? I had disdain for everyone in New Westminster today when I was at Subway.. I’ve very influence by the people around me...

Fat.. We are sick because we eat it and are not spread out. 

Cody Ko, a great example of being masc. He’s lean but schzoid. 

acting healthy perhaps is what tribal females did? 

Eating sick animals keeps the A’s low and keeps the O’s condensed. To be fulfilled A’s need to be ascending and O’s need to be expanding or going outwards. 

Shapes! av is A and AV is O, get me? This is why I struggle. I struggle because people like me rely on so much the fact that people prejudge them, have preconceived notions. Girly, sensitive, and connected, vs lean, masculine, strong, independent. Eckhart Tolle would be the perfect example of an O type male in the city, or universal O type. Submissive, non resistant, obedient, yielding. I experience both right now and I want to only experience one. I suspect that I must go to the heart of the city, or the outskirts. Only at the heart will I be protected, used. Everything needs to be used. Part of me now confuses people when it should enable them to know more about me before meeting me. I can cut out dairy and farmed animal products and keep going inward, become a good business.  

Ted for example, he would be perfect if only he appeared vulnerable, sensitive, feminine, if he saw it as his personality bread and butter. Instead we are alienated by his strained masculinity. If he cried, if he was kind to people. If he exposed his heart. If he was the girliest possible creature. That would be amazing. I would follow him, I would stand for him and others would too I think. If he could be vulnerable, feel safe to feel, the world would be right. Oprah too I think.. haha listen to me! 

or tribe needs two spirit people for some reason?

Maybe tribe is about brotherhood? they say O types have more boys than girls... and A types have more girls than boys...True in my family. Maybe it’s fair to say that in the country is where HS belongs? It is destructive in the city. Where there are multiple microbiomes, like in cosmopolitan places there must be order. But when all the microbiomes are the same, illness is not attached to it. Urban lesbians...A types? Softness? Fascifuckinating. The overlap! The overlap is between women in the city, (bonobos) and the overlap is between men in the country (chimpanzees). Maybe everyone knows this and is already acting accordingly?

Remember fasting and being a productive male goes hand in hand. Maybe the converse is true for women?

It’s amazing how polar, how black and white it is for me to be local and universal. When I’m local I’ll accept and tolerate almost anything if I’m alone and needed. If I’m not local my standards are enormous, it seems nothing in the world as it is right now is acceptable, (reminds me of Steve Jobs).

Remember, the most beautiful thing in a man is a little femininity and the most beautiful thing in a women is a little masculinity.

What if I just felt better? 

Then what for these innocent, thick people? how are they protected? How is there meaning in their lives? its all social? Know others, be a part of a group? 

Today I acted healthy, and then I noticed all the sick people. It was frightening. Maybe I chose this place when I was sick, because it had a lot of sick people? I felt like I was in the wrong place, I felt frustrated and vulnerable. Am I going towards the country or the city?

Is it true about the polar o’s? 

Maybe health is all I need? what if that is taken away from though? like with age or incident or what have you. I suspect that layers might not be the truth and that phases might be the truth. O’s were a phase, an essential phase. They populated the planet and then their work was done. I want to say that alpha phase is over. I do. I want peace. I want wonder. 

Commitment and the law of attraction, isn’t that the knowledge that we’ve gained? The universal mind?

There’s always room at the top... that’s the lesson that i’ve learned. I don’t have any space down here. Room at the top in the city. Maybe it’s not fair for O types, who just tribe, brotherhood, tradition, but it’s better than suffering, it’s better than being in the ghetto, being an addict. The thing is you have to think big, and commit. Like an appartment in the shangri la building. 

I invariably lead back to some form of tribal behavior...Is it just in my blood? Will I always think about those times as a kid? Either the past or the distant future, that might be our options as O types? Maybe I don’t have a choice. We did the past thing, we did the hardware. Maybe we can all have A type brains? I mean I certainly miss emotion and crying like it meant something, but I am grateful for civilization and safety. Ok so what happens when I live by commitment? its like I can’t get a job or an income. Or I don’t feel like getting a job? I may not have a choice. This may be the way that it is. Phases. It’s ABO now, it was O. A past that perhaps should only live in memory, on the big screen etc. 

I lost my health, I remember it, but I did not lose my life, so I was reborn in understanding of who I was. Perhaps, because they were projecting their version of me, if they had their way I would have been something that is banned in our subconscious.  

There is this belief in me that if I eliminate animal products from bad sources that I will be boosted somehow, I will have doors opened for me. The future has less meat from animals? I know that I need love, not just health. If I have to choose between perfect health and love I choose love. Love is meaning. 

How come I’ve been without love? Is it because I have not been asking? 

Commitment!? It helped me a lot actually. It helped with PMO cycle. At this point any affirmation will work. 

Only wild animals should be killed for food?