#cuz I was starting to feel like I did at the doctor in my hometown. where id be humored as an oddity but never actually respected

[elprupneerg]

Had a very odd experience at the eye doctor where everyone was very nice and also they deadnamed me the entire fucking time despite my name being in their systems. So it was just like *smiles sweetly while shoving a knife in my gut and twisting* the whole fucking visit. And I couldn’t tell at first if it was active transphobia or lack of training or what, but I didn’t exactly wanna cause a big scene in front of the whole waiting room (which was open to a massive hallway to the rest of the fucking hospital) and then once I was back in the maze of rooms the optical people have their various machines in I was too disoriented and didn’t know where the nearest exit was (which is very important to me if I’m gonna be correcting potential deliberate transphobia, what with the whole “my actual name is in their fucking charts and it says that I’m genderqueer in the fucking charts” thing)

Very funny thing where at one point the optical tech was measuring the pressure of my eye with a little thing that lightly taps the surface (like the machine that blows air on your eye, but handheld and faster and a bit more accurate) (it sounds scarier than it is, it just feels like something’s tickling your eyelashes). And she had to redo the test 3 times cuz the pressure in my eyes was high. And part of that can be caused by blood pressure being raised due to nerves or holding your breath or all sorts of things. And all I could think was “yeah of course I’m nervous, I’m stuck in a room with someone who’s been calling me the wrong name for the past however long” cuz like. Who wouldn’t be nervous in that case?!

Idk. It’s just a very unfortunate thing where I’m starting to see the effects of having an “inclusion clinic” where the training on queer issues is generally up to date and people know to look at the part of charts that has the preferred name. Cuz now it seems like the hospital is Only doing training on queer stuff with doctors in that clinic, and god help any trans person that needs specialty care from any other part of the hospital system

[eydi-andrius]

The Beginning after the Finale

Pairing: Yoonbum x Foreigner Detective Female Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: Idk I used my notes for this. :/

Warnings: May or may not continue this one.

- Also, this is my first published fic cuz' I'm a coward so there will be many grammatical errors but I did try to proofread it. I SWEAR!

- Lastly, I'm a new user of tumblr.

- Oh yeah! ALWAYS WEAR YOUR SEATBELT and I did wrote some curse words...

Summary: A childhood acquaintance of Yoonbum came back to find out that her first case in South Korea will include Yoonbum as a victim.

(I'm always looking for fics about after KS but found a little so I created one for myself.)

The story starts after the chapter ending of Killing Stalking.

You just came back to your hometown after studying and working a bit in US. You never really want to stay there in the first place but your parents doesn't like you staying alone in South Korea. You can't really argue with that. A 16 year old highschool student alone and living on a "not so safe neighborhood where a renter uncle beat the shit out of his nephew while his grandmother watch the whole ordeal afraid of his son putting his anger on her."

You can't help but sigh after remembering what happened to your childhood friend whose name you can't remember.

Him, his uncle and grandmother rents a house your parents owned. The rent was cheap because your parents doesn't really care about the money. At that time they just want a good neighbor to live next to the house where their daughter lived alone.

The uncle appeared to be friendly, caring and kind when he applied for the house. Having his mother lived with him was a plus to your parents because at least someone old will took care of you for sure. However, after his nephew's parents died on a tragic accident, the uncle became aggressive and unreasonably hit his nephew and blame him for what happened.

Of course when your parent's found out your mother's hystericlly ordered you to go lived with them abroad. At that time, you flat out refused them but after hearing their second angry suggestion of kicking out the renter, you just decided to go and obey them afraid of making it worse for the nephew.

"The nephew hmnnm..." you murmur as you try to recall that nephew's name and face. It's been too long and you only remember bits of information about him. Like how feminine his stature was. The way he look shyly when you greeted and passed by him on the streets while walking to school. How his face powdered with red whenever you saw him and smiled widely at him. However despite all those memories, his face and identity remained a mystery. His face was blurry, same with his name.

You huffed angrily as you drum your fingers on the steering wheel. You're annoyed to yourself for forgetting the most important information. Nostalgia seeped through you whenever you think about him. Maybe because you thought he was unique and had an honest air around him. You liked that and you'd like to see him again. And deeply you hoped that he was doing fine.

"DEATH PENALTY FOR THAT BASTARD PSYCHOPATH!" You got spooked after hearing a loud booming voice from a megaphone. It was a quiet day and a shout like that can be heard throughout this town. Luckily the traffic light blared red and so you've got a chance to observe what is happening outside.

Lots of people are yelling with placards on hand in front of Jonggan Hospital. Young and old were gathered outside. Looking and shouting angrily to put a certain someone named "Sangwoo" to jail until he die or punished him with death penalty. You frowned. Death penalty isn't a thing in South Korea anymore right? This person probably did something horrendous to get a suggestion like that from old and young folks.

"Good heavens! What happened to this small town?" You questioned as you shake your head then look at the countdown for a greenlight ready to go forward. Two seconds more. You said on your head.

One last look on the crowd and you decided to drove off when a scrawny boy decided to run when the greenlight was on. You stopped before you run over him but your car still bumped his body. Making him fall over the pedestrian lane.

"Fuck!" You yelled shocked and angrily from the unexpected accident. Hurriedly, you got out your car to see if the man was okay.

You heard the loud beeping noise of horns behind your car when you got out furious at you for stopping so suddenly. However, you are more concerned to the man you almost run over with your car.

"Are you okay!? Do you know how dangerous running on a pedestrian lane with greenlight on!?" You yelled worriedly as you crouched down to check if he was okay.

The guys seemed shocked about what happened and continued to look down on the cement. And so you decided to touch both of his cheeks with your hands and forced his face to look at you. Your eyes went wide as you recognize the face infront of you.

"I'm sorr-"

"Yoonbum!" You interrupted the guy's apology as he spoke when you recognized that small and scrawny face of your childhood neighbor. The nephew you're thinking about just earlier.

Yoonbum blinked when you yelled out his name in surprise.

"Do I k-know you?" Yoonbum stuttered as he frowned questioningly at you.

"Oh my gosh! It's really you! This is me, [Y/N]. You look thinner than you do when we were younger." You beamed as slowly all of your memories of him came flooding back. That scrawny, shy and honest boy you knew is right in front of you.

"[Y/N]? I-" The angry noises of car horns stopped Yoonbum from talking and you realized where the two of you at the moment.

"I'm glad that I got to see you again but the road is not a place for our little reunion. C'mon!" You smiled as you offer your hand and help him to get into your car.

You repeatedly look at the rearview mirror to confirm if the guy you just saw and almost run over was really Yoonbum. Feeling your eyes at him, he looked at the rearview mirror too and your eyes meet. He immediately look away while an obvious blush painted his cheeks.

"I really can't believe this. I was just thinking about you earlier you know. And pondering over what's your name and how do you look but then I run over you. I mean, almost." You chuckled as you slightly looked at him while driving.

You wet your lips and continue talking. "I'm so happy to finally meet you again, Yoonbum." Smiling slightly while looking at the rearview mirror. This time, your eyes meet again but he didn't look away.

"Uhmmm.." You heard Yoonbum uttered softly so you glance his way. You saw him twiddling his thumbs.

"Go on." You nod while looking at the road to encourage him to say whatever he had in mind.

"Do I know you?" Surprised, you stopped and your car screeched loudly. You heard a loud thud beside you.

"Awwww...."

You gasped in horror when you saw Yoonbum's bloody forehead. You immediately grab some tissues on the back sit and dabbed softly on his open wound. That's when you realized that all this time he was not wearing his seatbelt. You cursed under your breathe and muttered a silent sorry to Yoonbum for driving carelessly. You just didn't expect him not to know you when he voluntarily rode your car and listen to your ramblings about him.

Luckily you're on your way to the hospital parking lot. You were really worried about Yoonbum earlier that you decided to bring him to the hospital to be checked by the doctors if he had any injuries from the almost accident.

You got out of the car immediately and guide him to the emergency entrance. On your way there, you saw a police in uniform narrowed his eyes on your direction and jogged angrily where the two of you are. You felt Yoonbum's grip tighten on your hand.

When the police was just two steps away from you and Yoonbum. You hid him fast and pushed the officer away.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! What do you think you are doing? You are scaring my friend, officer." You said sarcastically as you shoved the glaring guy in front of you.

The police officer eyebrows knitted into one. "Ma'am, I mean no harm to you and your friend. But I need to talk to him." He emphasized the word friend as he tried to look behind you. You felt Yoonbum cowers in fear. You hold tightens on his hands. Clearly, there was really something wrong here. However, even though you want to fight the man in uniform, Yoonbum needs his wound treated.

"I'd like to let you, good sir but my friend's head is bleeding and he needs immediate care."

You didn't wait for his reply and you brought Yoonbum to the nearest nurse to help him with his wound.

From your peripheral vision, you saw the officer followed the two of you. When the nurse finally assisted your friend, you immediately stop the officer from interrogating Yoonbum further.

"You know, I don't have any clue about what you need from Yoonbum but can you stop? He almost got into an accident today and by the way his body responds to you, you were making things harder for him. So can you please stop." You glared daggers at the officer who just replied on your statement with a frown.

"Ma'am-"

"[L/N], [Y/N] [L/N]" You interrupted him which made his frown into a scowl.

"Okay, Ms. [L/N]. By the way you look, you're probably just got here and don't know what happened. Your friend there, Mr. Yoon was a victim of a serial killer. Him being out is not good for he was still suspected to be an accomplice even though the court already ordered his innocence." He nonchantly explained as he pointed his hand to Yoonbum who's being tended by a nurse.

He left your mouth agape with his revelation and walked pass you to sit beside the now patched Yoonbum. You followed and immediately hugged Yoonbum protectively from the officer who didn't even tell his name yet.

Then you remembered that Yoonbum doesn't remember you still and so you dropped your arms and just crouched in front of him to look into his eyes. You hold his hands and help him remember you.

"Yoonbum. This is me [Y/N]. The ow-"

"Owner of the house my uncle rented for us." You smiled when Yoonbum continued your sentence. He smiled back with that boyish innocent smile you remembered before but with eyes full with uncertainty and sadness.

"Sorry for interrupting your little reunion but didn't I told you Mr. Yoon to not go out alone to Jonngang Hospital?" The officer glared at Yoonbum who was trying to look and move away.

You bit your lips and stand up to fight the officer for being rude to the obvious scared Yoonbum.

"You nasty off-"

"Seungbae. Officer Seungbae for you Ms. [Y/N]" He interrupted looking at you. As if telling you to fight him.

"Okay, Officer Seungbae. I do understand that you're just trying to protect Yoonbum but can you please stop being nasty and rude to him. He was obviously shooked from what happened to him earlier-"

"And if you don't know Ms. [Y/N], the foreigner. In Jonggang Hospital lies the culprit who broke your friend's legs and forced him to do nasty things for months. And if the people caught him there, the people might become more hostile and believed further that he was an accomplice. Just letting you know in case you don't know" Your jaw clenched at the sneering statement of the officer. You're not annoyed by the fact that you know nothing on Yoonbum's case but the fact that this officer was basically putting all of his anger at you and making you look like a fool.

Instead of continuing the banter with him, you looked at Yoonbum's eyes again who continued to look away.

You have these cases in the US when you're still working there as a detective. Some serial killer let a victim alive to break them and make them believe that they were just like them. Cases abroad are nastier than in here but after hearing that your friend had suffered directly from a psycopath made your heart wrenched in sadness for him. It will take some time to heal them but knowing the person who suffered made you want to help them more wholeheartedly.

"Yoonbum please look at me" You placed both of your hands upon his cheek guiding his face to look at you.

"I don't know what happened and do not know the real reason why you still want to see him despite what he did to you. Maybe to see him suffer or whatever but I believe that you're innocent. Maybe he ordered you to do nasty things to make you crazy or make you believe that you're just like him but I still do believe in your innocence because you are a victim of him too. Whatever you have in mind, I'll listen to you and guide you through the process. Trust me." You looked at him with your heart out to let him know your sincerity to help him despite the years you hadn't been with him.

Yoonbum looked at you for sometime and then nod squeezing your wrists near his cheeks.

You smiled at him.

You admire how strong he was despite all the struggles he suffered through his lifetime. You promised to yourself that you will help him this time and will not runaway because its dangerous or whatsoever.

You squeezed his hands tight and nod at him happily.

P.S. Notes are highly appreciated. Thank you so much!

[pinkykitten]

Shy Love

Neil Melendez x female! reader

Genre: comedy, angst, prompt, romance, fluff 

Words: 2,304 (ok where did she come out of ?)

Request: By anon Could you do a Melendez x reader oneshot where at the hospital he’s the most shy person he’s ever seen but he happened to see her out and she’s totally different like loud and reckless and stuff, and he can’t decide which side of her he loves more and confesses

and another anon hiii idk if you’re taking requests but if you could do a neil melendez x reader fic w/ angst prompts 7 and 11 I’d be the happiest!!! (like mostly angst but ending with fluff if that makes sense)

Prompts: 7 -  “you should’ve said that yesterday.” 11 -  “it’s over, it’s done, just leave it be.”

Authors Note: MiX iT aLl ToGeThEr AnD yOu KnOw ThAt It’S tHe BeSt Of BoTh WoRlDSs!!!!!!! if you didnt get by the song i mixed two requests cuz why not but this one has a lot to do w walmart and like its funny and silly but then super angsty and gets rlly in the feels,,like its a whole lot but i love my boo sm he is lemonade

“Y/N, how would you like to join us? We’re going to the bar when our shift is over,” Neil asked you with dreamy eyes. His hand resting on your shoulder. Neil was always trying to bring you out of your shell and make you associate with your coworkers. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to gather with your workmates its you were shy around them. With your friends from your hometown they knew how odd you were and would never judge you or dislike you but all these doctors you knew were way more mature than you. They had their life figured out and you were worried they wouldn’t like the real you and who you really are. 

You grabbed all your books that you were going to study that night for a patient of yours and carried your bag. “Thanks for the invite, but I think I’m going to call it a night.” You said with a small voice, thanking him with a kiss on the cheek. 

“You sure?” Neil smirked.

You waved, “bye Neil.”

Neil shook his head at you declining his offer. All he wanted was to have a night out with you. He wanted to get to know you better.

As you stepped out of the hospital your phone buzzed with a call. You chuckled as you saw the caller ID display your friend and roommate's name. 

“Yes, Janelle?” 

“Girl, meet me at Walmart! They got the good stuff you like so much on sale.” She was sparking with such enthusiasm for something so mellow. 

Giggling you put your friend on speaker as you started your car, “I think you’re the only person I know that gets excited for Walmart.”

“I thought since you’re always so busy-”

You rolled your e/c eyes, “here we go again! Always the same topic of conversation. I’m sorry I’m over here saving lives!”

“I’m just saying I barely see you anymore. I miss you. I want to know whats going on with your life. Any guys? Lets just hang out for a little bit, please.” 

You felt bad, your friend sounded lonely and you could go for some best friend advice and love at this moment. “Sure, why not? I’m coming over! Order me something from McDonald’s okay? I’m starving.”

Janelle laughed loudly on the other end.

The burger hit the spot of your hunger. You licked your lips and wiped your fingers. 

“Do you think we need more of this?” Janelle pulled out the coffee creamer from the milk aisle. 

“Yes,” you said with a definite answer. “You drank all of the other one?”

Janelle looked at you bashfully, “oops, that was me?”

“Oops, that was me?” You repeated sarcastically. “Of course that was you. I barely get to drink coffee creamers anymore. I now drink that dark stuff at work.”

“Right, work. So how’s that Melendez doctor?”

You almost choked right there. People were eyeing you as you playfully slapped your friend in embarrassment. “Janelle! What if he’s here?”

“Honey, he probably shops at Whole Foods not at some Walmart, okay. Besides why are you so secretive about him?”

You waved your hands in front of your face to try hide your bashful expression, “Because, he’s so handsome and more mature than me. He has his whole life figured out. I’m still living off of Ramen while he probably eats with Beyonce!”

“Oh, someone has a crush! And he’s rich!”

You put bread in the cart and almost knocked the cart into an old woman, “Just because he may be rich, Janelle, doesn’t mean that’s the most important thing. But yes, Neil Melendez may be rich.” 

Your best friend and wing girl squealed louder than a pig. “Oh my God! You like him! You like him! You like him! Why don’t you just ask him out then? You are so pretty, he’d probably say yes.”

“That’s the problem. He may say yes. It’s not definite. I’m, I’m too afraid. It doesn’t matter. We are just coworkers he’s my boss and we have a professional relationship, nothing more.”

“Alright, I won’t push it anymore.” Janelle grew a big, evil, smile on her face. She skipped behind you and pushed you in the shopping cart. 

You screamed loud and whipped your head around to her, “what are you doing Janelle?”

“You’re too stressed out Y/N. Let loose. It’s time we have fun.” Janelle didn’t even give you enough time to interject because she was already speeding down the shopping lanes. She pushed you faster and faster. 

At first you were afraid but then the adrenaline got to you and you started laughing. She poured chip bags and bags of marshmallows on you to replicate rain. She twirled the cart and your cheery cackles were heard through out the whole store. 

This is what you meant. You could be a silly willy with your best friend and people that knew you. But you were too shy and afraid to reveal your fun self to others but more to Neil. You were frightened he would say you were too stupid for him or that you were not serious enough. Neil meant so much to you that you were always shy around him. You liked him so much and you never wanted to jeopardize your relationship you have with him. 

What you didn’t know was Neil did indeed shop at Walmart and he was doing some last minute shopping. 

He was peering at a bag of pistachios when he could of sworn he heard your shrieks. He paid no attention to it at first until he heard your voice nearby. It couldn’t have been you! No, not shy, flustered, Y/N. Neil turned the corner and was met with the surprise of you dancing in the shopping cart. He was a bit confused. You were always shy around him when Neil would talk and hang out with you. It was a complete 180. Who was this person? He couldn’t help but smile. You looked so adorable and cute having fun. You were being a ball of excitement. So different than how he knew you or what he thought he knew. He loved how sweet you were when you were shy but you seemed more happy now. He loved the real you. Neil even found himself getting jealous. Why didn’t you show your true, inner self to him? Were you afraid of him? He wanted to know everything about you and he felt like he didn’t know you at all. His smile started to disappeared. Neil didn’t think. Before he knew it he was making his way towards you and your roommate. 

“Hello Y/N,” Neil created a fake grin. 

You were completely horrified. Your heart pounded vigorously. Was he watching you this whole time? He probably thought you were being absurd. At once all the nerves consumed you. You became speechless. You were so embarrassed! You quickly hopped out of the cart and sheepishly put your hands behind your back. “H-hey Doctor Melendez. I didn’t know you shop here?”

“It’s Walmart. I hope I can shop here.”

Your eyes bugged out of your head. 

“What my friend means is that you look rich and so handsome that we suspected you might shop at places like Whole Foods and what not.” Janelle saved your butt.

Neil chuckled, “no, I need my junk food.” He then eyed you. “Saw you having fun here.”

You looked down, scared for his talk. 

“Why don’t I ever see this side of you? I think you should let that fire out more at work in front of all of us. I think its cute.” He winked at you as he walked away. 

“Oh my God Janelle,” you fell against the cart, leaning against it. “I think I just died. That was so embarrassing!”

Janelle danced around you, “are you serious? He said you were cute! Agh, I wish a guy would say that about me!”

“I’m so glad that’s over.”

It wasn’t over. Far from it.

Neil couldn’t sleep that night. He was angry and jealous. He wanted to start a relationship with you but he didn’t even know who you were. How was it going to work? He didn’t understand why you kept who you were away from him? Do you hate him that much?

Neil paged you and texted you that he needed to discuss something with you, asap the next day at work.

Your bones shook like a tree. You were more than nervous, you were petrified. Was this about the fiasco at Walmart or was this something more? Neil meant so much to you, you didn’t want to ruin what you two already had. 

You knocked on the door to a vacant room. You saw Neil sitting at the table through the glass windows. 

“Come in,” he said loud for you to hear. 

You walked in slowly. 

“Please sit.”

You sat, biting your lip. You played with your fingers awaiting the blow. 

“I just want to say I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me but I wanted to discuss something that’s been bothering me.”

“Yes.”

“I thought I knew you. I don’t know why but when I saw you having fun yesterday my heart hurt. It’s weird to explain.” Neil rubbed his temples, clearly this was effecting him. “I fell asleep that night thinking about you.”

“About me?” You felt flustered. 

Neil heard how that sounded and quickly tried to save himself from the grave he dug himself, “please, let me rephrase that. What I mean is, I know you for being this quiet, shy woman and who I saw yesterday was this outspoken, fun, burst of fire. Why is there such a change?”

You were afraid he was going to bring it up. You felt hot. You weren’t really sure how you were going to respond. “I don’t know.” You became shy. 

“I just don’t understand why you are so...afraid of me? Have I done something to scare you?”

“It’s not you okay,” you were becoming overwhelmed. Why did he have to bring up something you were insecure about? Why couldn’t he just let it go? “It’s me. I just I don’t-”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just want a complete honest answer. I don’t want you to dislike me. Please tell me what happened.”

You wanted to shut out everything. You were self conscious of your personality. You felt like crying. You stared at your hands and wanted to be sucked in a hole. Your lips trembled as a tear fell.

Neil saw that and felt like a monster. “I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to-”

You wiped your tears away and stood up, “You said enough. It’s over, it’s done, just leave it be.” You were about to leave but entered the room again. “I’m insecure about myself and I don’t like the real me. I’m afraid you won’t like who I am because I really like you Neil. I hide because who I really am is this crazy, reckless person. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I’m sorry I’m weird.” You walked away leaving Neil feeling defeated and hating himself because all he wanted to do was tell you how he truly felt. 

It was the next day and you were swallowed up in your blanket, eating ice cream and watching rom cons that were too good to be true. You felt hollow. You thought you maybe had a chance with Neil but he hated you and found you unattractive. 

Janelle came in with a guilty look on her face, “it’s okay babes.” She hugged you tight. “If he doesn’t love you then he doesn’t deserve you because you are a gorgeous thing.” She smiled trying to make you laugh. 

You chuckled weakly and cried into Janelle’s shoulder feeling like a glob rather than a person. “I even told him how I felt.”

There was a knock at the door. “I’ll get it.” You slipped on your slippers and walked around the apartment gloomy. You opened the door and standing there was Neil holding a bouquet of roses. “Oh its you.” You threw the door in his face. 

“Please Y/N I really need to talk to you.”

Janelle turned you around like a mother, “go talk to him. Now.”

You groaned as you met with Neil’s body. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to apologize for the way I acted towards you yesterday. It was wrong and I am very sorry. I was being stupid. I was jealous because I wanted you to be yourself around me. I wanted to know how adorable you act and I want to push you in a cart. I want to have those fun moments with you because you are special Y/N. You have this beautiful, amazing personality that lights up the room and that makes me feel giddy. I’m a complete idiot for treating you like how I did but Y/N I like you. I like you a lot. I would love to take you on a date like a gentleman because you deserve the best. These are for you.” He handed you the roses. 

You were speechless, mouth agape as you stared at this man completely smitten with you and confessing. You smelled the roses and smiled, “they smell amazing. Thank you.”

“Phew, I’m glad you liked them because I was really nervous you were allergic or something-”

You pulled Neil’s collar and gave him a big kiss. It was sensual and perfect. It wasn’t too quick but not too long. Both lips moved in perfect sync. “You should’ve said that yesterday.”

“I really should of if I was going to get that outcome.”

Janelle started clapping in the background like a victorious warrior. “Amazing! So when’s the wedding?”

(ENDING A/N: i’m not sponsored by walmart sAdly i swear hhhhh)

Tag list: @harrington-lover​��, @angelgl16​​, @perfectlybeautifulsuit​​, @hyehoney​​, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag), @leasly​​​, @totally-alexa21​​, @creamy-pasta-boi​​, @multireese​​, @fanfictionrecommendations-com​​, @prentisskelley​​, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97​​, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople​​, @collectiveyou​​, @wtfisalltherandoms​​, @dirbel​​, @eastcoasthaven​​, @fangirl-4-life415 (wont let me tag), @melonreblogsstories​​​​, @fandomchick80​

wanna be tagged in my crap? comment!

Please Reblog, like or comment! It means a lot to me and I truly appreciate it:)

[praphit]

DOTN: Death’s on Vacation

Death on the Nile!

There's something about a title of a story with the word "Death" in it that makes me extra excited.

Ex. "Encanto" I still haven't watched it. I'll probably get around to it... maybe. BUT, if it were called "Encanto of DEATH" 

Hell yes! I would have watched it at least 10 times already.

"The Power of the Dog" starring Benedict Cumberbatch?

Ok.

OR

"The Power of the DEATH" starring Benedict Cumberbatch?

Big difference.

Somehow the word "Nile" negates the power of the word "death" in this title (”DOTN”). I don't know why. Even words that convey death; somehow "nile" pacifies it.

"Die Hard on the NILE”"

 - meh.

"Mortal Kombat on the NILE" 

- somehow it’s a romantic comedy now.

Kinda makes it seem like Death is on vacation, and so he/she's not really gonna wanna work that much.

But, I gave it try. It was this or that "Morbius" nonsense.

Here, we have Hercule Poirot (played by Kenneth Branagh), who is a master detective. 

He's not quite on the level of Sherlock Holmes, but he'll do. He proves his skills to the audience in the first scene, though the event that took place leaves him scarred. Think Two-Face from Batman. BUT, thankfully, a goofy mustache covers all? Apparently, that's all Two-Face needed.

��Gal Gadot requests the services of Poirot, because she recently stole the boyfriend of her best friend, and through much PDA decides to marry him. The ex did not take kindly to that.

If you ever get dumped for someone else, then this character (the ex) might be a muse for you. Rather than taking the move-on-with-your-life-with-another-fish-in-the-sea approach, she stalks the couple. She ain't interested in hiding either ---- they clearly see her.

At the grocery store.

When they’re walking their dog.

On dates.

At church. Stalker Ex-Gf will be there.

Her face will haunt them forever, and I gotta say, I approve. 

"You broke my heart, so I'm gonna creep you the bleep out for the rest of your lives." 

Life Tip: If you're currently with a partner who has some level of crazy in them, you need to think REAL hard before breaking up with them.

So, they hit the nile, and THE DEATH BEGINS ----- YES! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.

Yeah, but... meh.

We've got a "Knives Out" vibe going on here, a couple of deaths, and it seems like everyone on the nile owns a gun (cuz more guns always equals safety). But, with all of that, this movie is somehow dull.

Maybe it's just me, but I needed a lil more action, a lil more death.... you know?? Some fire, some ax-wielding psychopaths, some dark ancient spirits, but... meh. As I thought, Death wasn’t trying all that hard.

You might say "But, Praphit, this is a mystery! THAT should be the focus!" 

Let's dilute the word "mystery" in this case, shall we? I solved it in the very beginning. Maybe Gal should have requested MY talents... OR perhaps this caper wasn't all that impenetrable. I won't give it away, but... your first instincts will be correct. You'll think to yourself "... but it can't be that simple." - yes it can:)

One thing that this movie has going for it is Gal Gadot.

She's stunning as always. Her very presence soothes one's core. And then she starts "acting", and you're like "hmm..." And then she leaves the scene, and you're like "Wow, this movie is boring."

The other characters in this film aren't much characters at all; they feel like extras. If you were to grab a singer, a doctor, an artist, and a few other normal-looking people from the background of any show/movie (whom have no need for personality) and toss them into main roles, you'll get the stagnant flow of this movie. Every now and then, someone pulls out a gun, but... they're not from my hometown (Baltimore), so they're never going to use it. And all of the characters are in love with Gal Gadot. I'm not joking. ALL OF THEM! Death, Taxes, and Gal stealing your significant other.

There is some "Dirty Dancing" style action in the beginning of the film, but your arousal won't last long, and will eventually droop down into a bucket full of boredom.

Grade: D

Why wait ten to twenty years for a remake?? I could fix this puppy right now.

I'll direct!

We'll call it "Dead Death River".

Will Smith will be our detective, getting info out of people by any means necessary.

We'll get some real characters like the cast from "Martin" and "Seinfeld" or something.

Gal Gadot could still be in this, and play the role of Death.

We'll go for less of a "Knives Out" vibe and more of a "Scooby Doo" one. BOOM! MOVIE!

Once again, Hollywood. I'm awaiting your call.

[heauxlycoitus]

I feel like the longer one dates, has situations, entertains suitors, or..fucks…the more rules you have. Kinda. Well, I take that back. In my life, I’ve had a significant increase and decrease in rules at the same time. Today, let’s look at the chronology of my rules in dating/husband-auditioning.

It all started with this book called “True Love Waits” by Joshua Harris. It was actually a movement in the Evangelical Church to create chaste Christians who were saving themselves for marriage. We all took these pledges and vowed to not have sex and hold ourselves to a high esteem with our minds, bodies, and hearts as they were connected to sexual finesse. I do appreciate a teench of the teaching I was “taught” or forcibly swallowed during that time. I don’t think I would be anywhere near a fully-functioning adult without it, but also, I like sex. I’ve always liked sex and loved it even before I knew what it actually was.

During this time, we were encouraged to write our list of our heart’s desires as related to our future spouses. Then, there were sometimes special altar calls where we would bring our lists, get them prayed over, nailed to a cross, exchanged for a chastity trinket, put in a basket (who knows where that basket went), or have some other semblance of ceremony and surrender.

I wrote my first list of expectations. I was 13 maybe 14. I find the list ever 5-8 years depending. It’s in a journal and it is ssooooo embarrassing. On it, I wrote that I wanted someone somewhat muscular, bright eyes, funny, musical, spiky and highlighted hair, nice teeth, maybe 3-4 years older than me, loves Jesus..at this point, I can’t remember it all. But if I ever find the list again, I’ll make another blog entry about it. It’s a great list. Not for what was on it per se, but for how directly it aligns to the essence of my BIGGEST crush at the time–the youth pastor’s son Mark. He was gorgeous and I just knew we were going to get married. He was everything I could ever want–what more did a girl need. But, he was EVERYTHING that EVERY girl in my youth group wanted and prayed for and wrote their suitor lists about. And I was the Black girl in white youth group so I wasn’t even in line for the picking–I was the bastard janitor in the dingy blue apron that everyone gave their trash to in the Cinderella story.

Second list was scribbled in grad school. I was super huge into abstinence and holiness and basically being a hella-judgemental prude in college. It def got me a doctorate at a young age, but it left me completely clueless when it came to anything outside of a textbook. Our beloved Bible study leader who hadn’t had sexual intercourse in probably over 2 decades shared that the next few weeks was going to be about “IN-tim-a-ccyyyy” cuz he couldn’t say sex and most def couldn’t say fucking. All of us young, bright-eyed Black folks, exhausted from battling libido for yet another week, piled into the room to share our thoughts and encourage each other on the road of chastity strewn with thorns of guilt and boulders of distraction. My ultimate crush Handsome and Dope In-The-Pocket Drummer Tremaine who the only reason why we can’t be together (cuz in my eyes he is still perfect) is cuz he doesn’t eat bacon, my ride-or-dies in the Virgin Vault (my bosom buddies at the time lived in the only single-sex dorm on campus), a couple folks who had strayed from the chaste life, and the abstinent and very single leaders. That night, we were given homework to write our list of standards for our spouse. I took time that week and came back with a BOMB ASS list cuz I had been thinking about it for quite a while and hadn’t taken the time to write it down, but decided now was a great opportunity to do so.

My list was superior to everyone else’s–even the Bible study leaders’. After I read my single-spaced, categorized list, all mouths were agaped and I sat there with a smug and determined look on my face. I was gonna find my prince if it killed me and sucked my precious primrose pussy juices dry and time turned my parts into dust and ash. This list I’m still proud of even though I lost it in Mexico. It had stuff on it like..

–Must love Jesus more than me

–financially stable and wise

–desire and ability to inspire children

–frosting to my cake

–no porn addiction

My memory has evaded me. Just know that my list was very godly and I kept up with it for a while. I took it, nestled it into my brain and heart, gave men the side eye if I ever want on husband auditions and they didn’t meet my list, shared my list with others so they could admire my complexity as a woman on the move toward Zion, and made sure that I too was able to meet my list.

So there was high school list and then grad school list.

Then I got to my most recent hometown list. That I wrote around 27-29ish..maybe. I cut down my list of 47 things to about 4. And I trusted my womanly spidey-sense which has yet to fail me. On it were things like,

–Are you teachable/moldable?

–As a father, will you play on the floor with our kids when they bring you a truck or a toy?

–Are you a learner, passport-carrier, and reader?

–Are you wise and not pompous?

–Are you one to push down my accomplishments to make yourself feel good/superior as a man?

–Does your life path support and align with my life path?

Has zero things to do with looks (although I’m a sucker for a beard and shoulder/arm/chest muscles, and..nice penis?), little to do with accomplishments (cuz I don’t want to hear your resume). It does have much to do with having someone support and journey with me.

Blah blah. Nice nice.

That’s for a life partner. Now I have my Tinder list. I’m working right now with my therapist on creating my own sexual ethic. HC’s sexual ethic is basically “Get it in..All of it..Often.” And for this list, I want/need..

–Fairly large to large penis

–Man who knows what he’s doing during sex (cuz I sure the fuck don’t)

–Respectful

–Pays part or all of his way to my vagina

–No feelings or desire for marriage

–Is not dead.

Like, literally not dead.

Aaand **SCENE**

Finding this on Tinder isn’t too difficult, but it’s not easy either. It just floats somewhere in the middle. The part I’m amazed with my journey is how my lists for suitors have morphed over the years and speaks to my desires in my own budding womanhood. I definitely now see myself as a woman (def another blog post) and I love my sexuality as she grows into her own apart from, but yet deeply connected to my self that I know so well.

I think, in this season of exploring and fucking, that my former lists inform who I fuck now. Nowhere near the “Bible-believing, spiky hair (you know, early 2000s Justin Timberlake style), guitar player” OR the “frosting to my cake” guy. Somehow I needed those lists to reach the list I’m at right now. And as my therapist said, I must allow myself space to change my mind later with no guilt or shame. Just be like, “Boop. Switch.” And go down another path.

There is no one way to Prince Charming. I can’t wait to look back at my Tinder Fuck List and be like, “Wow, what a season that was!”

Sincerely Yours,

Ms. Heauxly Coitus

[suffering-matsu]

The matsu's waking up in a hospital and are told by the doctor that he was in train accident and will never walk again (this hurts thinking about for Jushimatsu especially cuz of his love for yakyuu)

Oh god, this is a long one! I’m sorry if it’s bad,,,,because I’m honestly not satisfied with some of these and my language skills, so I apologise for any mistakes!- Mod ShiraOsomatsu:“What?“, Osomatsu asked. He laughed, but it didn’t sound positive. Osomatsu was scared. “I’m very sorry.”, the doctor said. “We tried our best – ” “If I can’t fucking walk anymore, it wasn’t your god damn best!”, Osomatsu snapped. “Uh, I mean-” “I can understand you’re frustrated.” Osomatsu touched his legs, but no, he didn’t feel anything. “Oh god, oh.. what… how can I-” “I know it’s .. hard to take in. You’ll need a few days to actually realise it.” Osomatsu didn’t reply. He was caught up in his thoughts. If he hadn’t.. If he would have stayed home.. “Do you have any questions?”, the doctor asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. “C-can I.. do anything? Is it going to be like this forever? Do I have to get in a fucking wheelchair?” “I’m sorry, but no. You can’t do anything. It’s a permanent condition.” “Oh god.”, Osomatsu said. “Is there really nothing”, his voice cracked. He was fighting back tears, while realisation hit him. “I c-can do?” “As I said –” “Nothing.”, Osomatsu whispered, more to himself as to the doctor. “I can’t.. help it.. there’s nothing I can.. do..” Small tears began to roll down his cheeks, dripping onto his blanket. “It’s.. gonna be forever like.. this..” Karamatsu:“Can you.. say that again? I think I’ve – heh – misheard you.”, Karamatsu said, maintaining a sad smile. “No, you’ve heard it correct. I’m sorry.” “I, um.. No, I think, you-” “I know, I know. I understand. It’s hard to realise. Please give yourself some time.” Karamatsu shook his head. “I’m sure, you-” “Listen, Mr. Matsuno, I know it hurts. The surgery took several hours and we really gave it our all. I am very, very sorry. Even therapy wouldn’t do anything anymore. You won’t be able to walk, or simply move your legs.” “I – ” He stopped himself. This man was lying, wasn’t he? He was, he was. Karamatsu was sure. No, he was telling lies to him. But why should he lie to him? “Do you have any more questions?” Karamatsu shook his head. “No, I.. I..” “It’s okay. I understand how you’re feeling.” He nodded. “It’s been to long, right?”, Karamatsu asked. “Huh?” “Since I’ve been found, I mean. Nobody cared, right? They didn’t care. Maybe, if someone would have actually cared and called help-” “It was a train accident. Several people are injured and everyone was brought here as fast as possible.”, the doctor answered. “Y-you’re not.. answering me. It’s a tragedy that other people are injured too. But I’m talking about me.” “You were brought here an hour after the accident happened.” “That’s a long time.”, Karamatsu said. Oh, he knew it. He could literally be on the verge of death but other people would be more important. He was used to it but now it actually determined his future. “I know. It was a difficult situation.”, the doctor said. “Oh, I bet it was.”Choromatsu:“W- when did it happen?” “A few hours ago.” “Whose fault was it?” “It was a malfunction of the break system, so nobody’s fault.” “How many people were injured?” “About 29 people.” “Did someone d-die?” “Not yet. Mr. Matsuno, I know it’s-” “Well, I guess that is g-good.” “I know you’re trying to distract yourself with questions, and that’s okay. But you will have to realise it.” “I am fully aware.”, Choromatsu said. And he thought he was, but he wasn’t. “How long did the surgery take?” “Four hours, we-” “And now it’s .. like this.” The doctor nodded. “Please understand, we tried our best.” “I know. I appreciate it.”, Choromatsu said. “Please leave me alone for now.” “I understand. If there is anything you need, you can call up a nurse anytime.” “Yes, thank you.” Choromatsu watched the doctor close the door. After he was gone, Choromatsu actually began to realise his fate. His breathing went shaky, his eyes watery, he felt like his lungs were on fire. “Oh god.”, he said to himself. “Oh god, oh my god.” He kept repeating himself until he started to cry. “I’m gonna- I- I-”, he sobbed, breathing fast, leaning back in his bed. No, no, no, no. This couldn’t be true, could it? “I’m doomed, I’m done!”, he cried. “N-not.. able.. work…I-” He couldn’t even talk anymore. He was such a failure! He should have stayed at home today, he knew it. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.” He couldn’t stop crying, he couldn’t calm down. This was hell. Ichimatsu:He didn’t answer. He just stared at the wall, trying to blind out everything. No, this wasn’t true. This was all just .. a bad .. dream. “Mr. Matsuno?” He still didn’t answer, he didn’t want to. “Are you okay?” “How the fuck am I supposed to be okay right now if I can’t feel my fucking legs?!”, Ichimatsu snapped. “Listen-” “No, you listen to me. This is your fault. You had two goddamn options; fix my fucking legs or let me die, but-” “Please, calm down. I understand that you’re angry. We really tried everything, believe me. It’s sad and my whole team is really, really sorry.” “Being sorry w-won’t help me-” Ichimatsu didn’t believe it but right now he was actually crying. “Get the fuck out!”, he exclaimed, embarrassed by his sudden emotional outburst. The doctor nodded, leaving the room immediately to give Ichimatsu space.“It’s all their fault.”, Ichimatsu cried, more and more tears making their way down his face. “I hate this, I hate them, I hate everybody. Why did this happen to me and not to Kusomatsu?” He tossed his blanket away. “No, not even he should feel like this.” He began to sob louder, more violent. “I can’t take this!” What should he do? Could he even go back home like this? But… they wouldn’t care, would they? They probably didn’t even know. It was good, right? If they didn’t care they-… No. This time, Ichimatsu wanted them to care. He wanted their help, their fucking love. He sobbed into his hands again, shaking his head. “Do I even.. deserve this?”Jyushimatsu: “You’re such a lively person and I know you love to play sports, and I want you to know we did everything we could but it wouldn’t work out. We’re very, very sorry.” Jyushimatsu kept his smile. “Oh, it’s nothing!”, he said. “I’ll be okay in a few days, won’t I?” “Um- No, this is permanent. You won’t be able to walk for the rest of your life. See, some important nerves we’re injured, as well as your spine and-” “No, no, it will be okay!”, Jyushimatsu said. “I’m sorry but no, it won’t. It won’t be okay. Your legs are completely paralysed. We’ve already called your family and they will be here in about an hour.” “Does this mean.. I can’t play.. baseball anymore?”, Jyushimatsu asked, his smile fading. “Yes, that’s exactly what this means. Again, I am very sorry.” “Oh, but you can fix this.. right?” “No, I can’t.” “You can’t?” “Yes.” “Oh… Um..” “I understand that it’s hard to realise, believe me. We don’t have cases like this often but it’s always very sad.” “I wanted to, uh.. v-visit someone.”, Jyushimatsu said. “But now I’m gonna be late, I guess.” He sounded sad. “I’m sure they’ll understand.” “Oh, I hope she will.”, Jyushimatsu answered, his voice shaking. No, he wasn’t crying, was he? “She broke my heart once, so I don’t want to break her’s by not showing up.”, he said. He was crying. “Can you call her for me and tell her that I can’t come? I wanted to visit her in her hometown.” The doctor hadn’t seen Jyushimatsu very often in his life; just sometimes jumping around in the city, laughing, cheering and swinging his baseball bat. But the version he was seeing now..? A scared, shaking and crying Jyushimatsu. Speaking quietly instead of his normal loud voice. “Um, yes, of course, I can tell her.” “But p-please don’t say that I’ve been in a train accident. Please j-just tell her, that I won’t make it today.” “Of course.” “Her name is Homura, her number is the most dialed one in my phone.” The doctor nodded. “Please tell her I miss her and that I’m sorry.” Todomatsu:Todomatsu was already crying when the doctor came in. He knew what had happened, he already tried to move but his lower half wouldn’t register his movements. He had asked what is wrong and the doctor had explained it to him but now that he knew things were worse. “D-does this m-mean I- won’t ever-” He sobbed, coughing. “b-be able t-to walk ag-” “Yes, I’m sorry. We’ve tried our best.” “I-I- Oh my god- I-” “Do you have any questions?” “W-why me? I don’t- I don’t d-deserve-” “Nobody deserves this.”, the doctor said in a calm voice. “There was another person with the same fate.” “I don’t care! I can’t walk! What the hell should I- s- sh- should I.. do?” He sobbed again, violently. “I’m very sorry.” No answer. “Where are my b-brothers? A-are they a-alright..?” “Two of them are here too, but the others should be fine.” Oh god. Oh god. “What happened to them?!” Todomatsu sounded louder than he thought he would. “One has a concussion and the one has two broken rips and a dislocated shoulder.” “Oh g- god-”, Todomatsu whispered. “Who..?” “I’m not sure, but I think the one with the concussion is Osomatsu and the other one is Karamatsu. Could be wrong, I need to check.” “A-are- Oh my- how-” “They are okay. Now, please try to calm down.” “I’ve- I’m..” He swallowed thickly. “But they are g-going to r-recover, r-right?” “Most likely.” “Th-this i-is- so.. unfair.”, Todomatsu sobbed. “I want to recover too! W-why me? Why am I- t-the-” He coughed again. Crying was really exhausting. “And there’s really.. n-no other option? No w-way f-for me to recover? Please, please tell me there is something! T-there h-has t-to be som-” “No, I’m afraid there’s not.” 

[virgoharmo]

When Suicide Is Our Wake Up To Life

Now, let’s talk about real issues. Let me talk about my own issues!

I'm facing the biggest obstacle in my life right now. I was officially diagnosed with Depression and Anxiety (Anxiety-Depression Mixed Disorder or something like that in english) on June 6th, 2017. I've been fighting my battles for a long time by now, but since last year it has became a harder trip with much more downs than highs. I've been "playing" with the Death for a few years now, but last January 31th I wasn't "playing" anymore. I dived deep down, way too fast, desperate for releave from my fears, my nightmares, my pains... my life. I did what I call "the death cocktail" then took it all in once. Twelve always later I found out that I was still alive only because my housemates (from my college campus) came to rescue me at the right time. They took me to the hospital and the doctors were able to clean my system. I found out I was still alive when I woke up to find out that my brother drove my mom from my hometown to my college town all the way thinking she was coming to take my body back home. She was so shocked about everything and to see me "fine" (well, at least alive), that she was afraid to touch me. Yes, that's it. My mommy didn't touch me, she didn't have the strenght to hug me because she was too afraid that she was being in denial so if she would touch me I would disappear, and she would find mu dead's body instead. She took 2 days to hug me properly, because she was still so so shocked and scared. She couldn't believe her youngest kid had tried to kill herself. I am an actual adult yes, but for my mom I'm still her youngest little girl. When some days had passed by, and it was time to go back to my college town because I have some work to do, she begged me please to take care of myself and DO NOT try it again because she love me so much that her heart wouldn't be able to handle it, never. so "please baby, don't hurt yourself, come back home to me, ok?"

It was all just 16 days ago and, obviously, I am still not cured. I am still not healthy. I am trying to keep my promise to her, I am trying to keep me alive for her, I am fighting myself for her! I just want to learn how to want to survive, to actually be alive for MYSELF, for my own desire. I talked to my psychologist. I will talk to the team that is taking care of me right now. We will try to fight harder now, I will try to fight harder now! I wanna win, win for my life, win MY life, to feel alive inside. As Charlie would say: "to feel Infinity!" I wanna be whole again. Look, I am telling here, I tried to kill myself not too long ago, just 2 weeks ago. But what I am trying to say here is that I wanna try to live now. To actually LIVE. The problem is: I am from a poor family, I have little, almost none way to afford my treatment. I am from Brazil and we have some kind of "Universal Care", yes. But it is not easy as it seems. I only make less than U$ 300/month and soon I won't have from where to get money because I'll have to stop working, to take a break, just so I can focus on my treatment to improve and be health or at least stable again.

I won't say that I don't think about killing myself anymore, cuz it's a lie, cuz I think about doing it kind of all the damn time, every fucking night, tbh. But I made a promise. I promised my mom I will go back home to her. I promised I wouldn't give up on college to go back home to try to get better surrounded by my family because being part of this University has been my dream since ever and now that I got the chance I would try. And so, to keep my promise to her and to keep my own dream, I wanna fight harder, I WILL FIGHT HARDER. But I will need some help.

So, if you think you can help me, if you can donate me ANY THING like 50 to100 or just as much as you can like 5 to 10. Please, help me! I wanna stop living in pain. I wanna stop thinking that "to die would be an awfully big adventure" and start to feel more like "to live is the biggest adventure". Can you help me?

[hotchley]

Helo it’s me again 💃💃

Imma keep it short cuz it’s almost midnight for me rn and it’s basically just question headcanon thingys u can respond to:)

Why did Haley and aaron decide to get a child (idk how to express that properly sorry) at the time they did? Like why then, why not earlier? They’ve known each other since high school, were they already trying? Did it not work or did something stop them?

Ahhh there’s was something else but I keep forgetting it grrrrr

This is hard bc most of my headcanon are abt hotchniss hhdjdh

Maybe what hotches love language is? Because he clearly cares about the team but how does he show it?

What made him give up his job as a prosecutor and become a profiler?

My head is empty that’s all I can come up with sorry://

Hope you sleep well tonight, sumayyah! <333 Love and hugs from

~ 🐝

tw: infertility, pregnancy, child abuse (also this is all below the keep reading because all of these got long, and if you want to send the other ones, please do!)

1. I am now going to refer to having a baby as getting a child I love that!! Okay so my headcanon about this is really boring... in my opinion, they didn't intend to wait THAT long. They broke up when they went to college because they wanted to make sure they were definitely compatible, and they got back together when Hotch started law school- which was right after graduation. Haley was teaching, and Hotch was still a student so finances were not great, so they held off because they wanted to be stable.

They got married a few months after Hotch started as a prosecutor, and then they sat down and had a conversation about children. Hotch had always wanted a kid, but he was terrified. Anyways, they started trying, but it just wasn't happening- the doctors said everything seemed fine, and couldn't work out what was wrong.

Haley wanted to take a break from trying because it was just getting harder and harder to look at the negative tests, and Hotch obviously accepted this. Then he left the prosecutors office and went back to the FBI academy, so there was a break there, and then Hotch needed to get established because he couldn't be having a child when he was just working as security, then as SWAT...

They chose to have a baby when they did because things seemed settled. They were back in Virginia, close to Haley's family and their hometown. Hotch had been with the BAU for long enough to be able to step down or become a desk agent. Gideon was unit chief, and Morgan would make a great lead profiler, JJ was handling things as liaison and Reid would grow with help from Gideon. Hotch could easily leave.

It was the best possible option. But Haley found out she was pregnant moments before Hotch got a phone call telling him the team needed to go to Boston because there had been a series of bombings... and that bomber just happened to be Adrian Bale. So yeah.

2. Okay this is just projection. I think Hotch's proper love language is quality time. Like he's happy to just sit in a room with someone and exist. You don't need to talk, or even be doing something together, it's just the company and their presence. When him and Haley were together, they would sit together in silence and she would mark/plan and he would write his papers etc.

When it comes to the team, he adjusts his love language to what they need. This means he hugs Garcia and kisses her forehead, and takes her hands when he's speaking to her. It means he comes into the office with a coffee and a snack for Reid because he hates buying himself stuff, or he'll bring him a book or clothes that are brand-new. It means JJ gets words of affirmation and Emily comes in to see something has been done for her.

Rossi and Morgan are more complicated.

Hotch shows how much he loves Morgan by trusting him in a way he doesn't with the other members of the team because his role in their lives is different. Morgan knows Hotch's phone password, and what his different microexpressions mean. He's also the only one that will Hotch he's being an idiot and a control freak, and Morgan is the only one that Hotch trusts enough to hand over control...

With Rossi... okay this is sad, but it needs to be said. He lies. He hides his true personality, and he regresses back into the young, hopeful and desperate to please agent that was first recruited to the BAU. Because he's not stupid. He knows that Gideon sent a letter to Rossi when he left asking him to come back, and that's the only reason he did. He also knows that Gideon painted him as that same boy, so he pretends to be someone else in order to help Rossi feel useful and needed (AHEM THIS CAN FEED INTO THE ARGUMENT IF ANYONE WOULD LIKE TO WRITE IT)

3. OOH!! I wrote this!! The start of the second chapter aaron (which you can find if you click here hehe cheeky self promo) is basically his final case as a prosecutor. Hotch tells JJ (I think?) it was because he got tired of getting justice for people after they died. I ran with that line and altered things slightly.

There is a case that crosses his desk. He takes it because he's been assigned it, and when he looks at the little boy in the file, he sees himself. Because this child is not dead. They're alive. And the police believed them when they said their father is abusive, so now they're in court. And he wants to do for this kid what no adult ever did for him: listen, and act. So it's several long nights and early mornings.

It means he's at the office when Sean calls him. He ignores the message. He goes home, and Haley tells him his mother has passed away. That she was admitted to the hospital, but when they, Sean and her tried to get through to him, they got his voicemail instead.

They go home for the funeral, and Sean blames him. Roy steps in and is like: Sean stop, but the damage is done. And when Hotch ends up in court, the defence rip him and the child to shreds, and he loses the case. The child blames him, spits in his face, and gets sent home with the father.

He gets home, sobs the moment he closes the front door, and the next day, Haley presses the FBI recruitment advert into his hands and tells him to apply.

[royalblurryfacedbastard]

Today was... okay maybe. For the most part I guess.

So it was the first day in school after our break and I stayed up all night cuz my sleeping schedule became kind of weird on Saturday and Sunday. So I did sleep yesterday but only from around 6 pm to 10 pm.

I had an alright time staying up, I listened to music and then I watched The Outsiders and I really liked it. I also decided to cut my hair shorter bc I got tired of it being long. I just do that every now and then cuz I don’t want my hair to be long, esp now since it was much shorter on the sides.

My dad drove me to my bus stop and we talked a bit and drove around before that, and on the bus I felt p okay. Just tired.

The first class was okay, some people were sick and late so we weren’t many but it was a p okay time and I finished a thing related to our commercial thing from before the break and sent it in.

Ensemble class went okay except our teacher told me I have to do an analysis of sorts of my song so it’ll be easier for the others to understand (like how the song is built up and stuff) and. I don’t know how to do that. I’m sure my classmates have learned how in one of their classes but it’s not one I’ve had so I literally just don’t know. I asked DV if he could help me though and he said yes.

I had lunch in the café and during the last class where we had our mentor as substitute my mood started dropping. A lot. I started to feel extremely tired and so I asked my dad if he could pick me up from the train station in my hometown and he said no and at this point my mood had turned to absolute shit and I was also tired to the point where I sat and almost fell asleep so. We argued I guess. And I wrote I literally don’t feel like doing anything anymore and that I’m tired of school and traveling 4 hours a day to be in school which is all true. Idk. When I’m upset I write a lot and I repeat myself a lot bc that’s just how I am when I’m very upset. I feel bad abt putting my dad through that every time I’m upset tbh. Idk.

I kinda chatted w my classmates as usual but when A came around and told me I had to get the boxes of pastries we’re gonna sell (I have seven boxes to sell) I just stopped caring and I left while he went to get someone to unlock the door to the room where all the boxes were. I didn’t have any-fucking-where to put them or any way to carry them and bring them with me on the two-hour bus-ride home so. Yeah I just left.

I stopped arguing w my dad at some point and when I waited for the bus I just became really depressed and sad. Like the restless kind of sad. Not the best kind of sadness to feel when you’re gonna sit on a bus for an hour. And then wait. And then sit on a bus for another hour.

Anyway. I’m home now and I’m still feeling pretty down but I feel a bit better knowing I won’t have to stress abt school this week because I can stay home if I want to and take it easy and take it at my pace. Also I might get a stuffed animal tomorrow after my doctors appointment where I’m gonna take blood tests and that makes me happy.

[livewiremind]

The Hospital part 1

“ Was going to the hospital for your bipolar a positive experience?” I look back at the straight faced psychologist, looking for a signal of some understanding of what the experience had truly been. Gut-wrenching, life altering, mind destroying, unbelievably hopeless- no indication of these words played for a moment across the doctors face. How could I begin to explain those three weeks in the psyche ward with a broken arm?  “ It was grounding,”  I finally reply. “ seeing everyone else with their delusions caused mine to crumble. I learned I wasn’t the only one, and up to that point I had felt like it.” His next question surprised me. “ have you written about your experience?”  

Writing had always been an escape for me. A place I sought to distill life events and emotions to find some definitive meaning. I hadn’t written much since the hospital, not for a lack of time but rather because I felt a profound inability to be the author of my experience. I didn’t know how to interpret what happened. The events were so confusing, the higher meaning that an author weaves his story around seemed to be missing, or at least I wasn’t able to see it. The only option I had was to write down exactly what my perspective was, without the final vision of clarity that i always imagined would come with absolute truth. 

“I just know I have to go. I have to go. It’s my only chance to chase my star, I have to go. “ Before the hospital I was determined to leave my hometown again, but I was worried. Concerned I was making irrational choices. “ I want to understand where my mind was at when I made this decision.” I thought to myself, sitting on my bed that I had recently ripped the sheets off. My room was in the unfinished basement and I stared up at the floor rafters above me. My roommate was having friends over in the living room upstairs. I heard a girl, one of his friends, but couldn’t make out what she was saying. Suddenly I heard laughter, and it broke me. It wasn’t malicious, it was friendly and warm. I wanted more than anything to go upstairs and join in, but as long as I lived in that house I never felt like I belonged. “ There’s nothing for me here.” I thought to myself. I felt the opposite of inclusion, like I literally had no belonging at all. The year and half previous of strange experiences and stranger thoughts had made isolation a familiar place. I was convinced that there was a higher purpose for my life, that I had been set apart and chose by God, as the Bible says. I certainly felt set apart. 

No one could understand. Others were, in fact, enemies of the inspiration that I was being given. Their minds had not been awoken to see the spiritual side of life, or so I was convinced. If they did see, it didn’t seem to matter as much to them as it did to me. It was a lonely road, but I was convinced there was a reason I was walking it.  

When I came to in the hospital, the first thing I remember was that I couldn’t breathe. I was laying on a table, flat on my back in the emergency room surrounded by nurses and doctors and fighting desperately for air. There was a strong pressure on my back, making it impossible for my lungs to fill with air. I arched my back and pointed out my chest, with all the symbolism of Christ on the cross, rising only to fill my chest then sink back down again. “ Stop moving!” the nurse ordered, angrily. “ i can’t breathe!” I yelled back. “ I need something under my back”. The nurse relented and though not understanding, agreed to my demands with the placement of a small wash cloth under my upper back. I said I was thirsty and they gave me ice chips. To me, this entire procedure felt like a crucifixion. I was in pain and couldn’t breathe, but the nurse helped with the wash cloth. Suddenly supported, though without any idea why I needed the support, I could breathe again. I relaxed for a moment and looked around the room. 

A nurse to my right was washing my right arm while a doctor stood over her. It was broken, I realized. Mentally, It started to click, I was in the hospital, something had happened. They started asking me questions, none of which I remember in the confusion. I asked the doctor what was going on.  

“ You fell on a train track and broke your arm and fractured your back.” Dr.McAndrew answered in a matter of fact voice. “ Can you tell me, Dr. McAndrew went on, “why you jumped on the train tracks?” I didn’t answer right away, everything was a blur.” “ I think”, I finally stammered, “ God told me to.”. The doctor shook his head then turned to a female nurse that had just entered the room. “ He says God told him to do it” he told the new nurse. McAndrew turned back to me “ This nurse will be watching you. We need to perform surgery on your arm.” I didn’t realize at the time, I was being assigned a caregiver not for the sake of hospitality, but because I was considered a suicide risk. They were still cleaning my fractured right arm when another nurse on my left offered me her hand. “ You can hold my hand, if you want.” she smiled sweetly. I reached for her hand, held it in mine and passed out on the table. 

I hadn’t lied to Dr, McAndrew, as far as I could remember, God had told me to jump on the train tracks. At least, to some extent. When I left my hometown of Springfield 2 night earlier, I had taken the greyhound bus to St. Louis. Our bus out of town was delayed, and during my time in the station I had met Sean, a mid 30′s black man who said that I was dead. “ Your mind is gone, that means you’re dead. But you’ll be alright kid, you’ll be alright.”  Another had asked if I was an angel. “ I’s just asking cuz you got that look about you like you’re supernatural, and the Bible says we entertain angels unaware.” I had said nothing unusual to either of these two to prompt their odd behavior...It had been a strange way to begin a fateful journey. 

Finally that night the bus arrived and we left for St. Louis. Exhausted, I remember feeling that the trip was not as much fun as I had expected it to be. Usually when I am moving to a new place or beginning some other life transition, I genuinely enjoy the rush and excitement of something new. This time it was different, this time I was scared. I didn’t have a phone for entertainment, as it had been acting glitchy so I threw it on the ground a few weeks earlier. Instead, I huddled up in my greyhound seat, grateful no one was next to me. I looked out my rain streaked window to find the moon, but it must have been over the bus because all I saw was rain. 

Arriving in St. Louis, I wasn’t really sure why I was there. I felt I was leaping out in faith and waiting on God to direct my steps. I went to the park to sleep for the night, after discovering a 24 hour white castle was drive thru only. 

I more waited for the sunrise than I did actually sleep at night. In the morning I wandered through downtown heading back to the greyhound station. The song lyrics “ You don’t know me but you don’t like me” was playing in my head and I sang along. I had a sense that a profound transformation was taking place within myself, but couldn’t describe it. I was helpless to direct it either, but it felt like I was being tossed around by whatever arbitrary sign the universe or my own mind wanted to throw at me. 

With no home to go back to, I wasn’t sure my next steps. I had come to the city for two reasons, firstly because months earlier a church group I belonged to mentioned that there were rap battles in St Louis. I had convinced myself that my path would be like Eminem in 8 mile, that I would walk into a room of battle rappers and just blow them away with divine inspiriation. Still, although it was a strongly held delusion of mine, after a day in the city I didn’t see a direct line to it. There were no bars or clubs that I was aware where I could perform. 

The second reason I had come to the city was because of its title as “ Gateway to the west.” There were more bus routes and trains leaving St. Louis to anywhere in the country than I had access to in Springfield. I finally realized that I didn’t have to do this, that I could go anywhere that amtrak or greyhound station connected to and God’s will would find me. I wondered if this made me like Jonah, and if I was in fact running from God and my mission to preach the gospel of Christ as I knew it.. Really I guess I was just being dumb and impulsive. I had $500 and decided to buy a ticket to Portland Oregon. Suddenly this was a journey about coming home. I had grown up in Oregon when I was 5, and the thought of returning was extremely exciting. i was going to simply wait for my train in the station, when a security guard demanded to see my ticket, saying there was a two hour limit for customers. My train wasn’t leaving for six. A brief argument ensued, and the security guy won. I left the station as he advised that would “ be the smart thing to do.” 

Unsure what I would do for the next several hours. 

After leaving the station, I was amped up because of the confrontation with the security guard. I guess I’d been a bit of a smart ass, but I was direct and truthful in what I said. It felt like a superpower and I was tripping off the energy of it. No one can make me feel bad if I don’t let them, was the basis of the realization and power that I felt. I saw a cable van that said “ be careful around electricity.” and I immediately applied it to the incident with the security guy. I would have to be careful with this new energy. 

 I saw a St. Louis city work vehicle, it’s work number #667 identifying it on the license plate. At that point in time, I had made the number 67 my God. The Bible said that in the end times, the number of the beast would be 666. In my psychotic state, I paid extreme attention to numbers. Whether it was addresses, phone numbers or grocery store totals, I seemed to be followed around by 667 or 67. If 666 was the number of the beast, I imagined 777 would be God’s numbers so being told that my number was 667 seemed to fit. That I was awash with sin, a mortal man, one step away from the great beast, but with one single digit that signified the redemption of God. Surely 67 was the number that suited me, a bringing together of my good and bad qualities to form a cohesive, redeemed identity. I would make decisions based on this number, determine if I was “ following the path” based on where and how often it would come up. Seeing the St Louis city truck with that number, when I had already decided to leave set me back. “Maybe I am supposed to stay here.” I thought to myself. I went back to the greyhound station and cancelled my ticket. 

Once out of the station, I was feeling euphorically happy, although still just as aimless. I was so enthusiastic, I begin to dance by myself in front of the greyhound station. “ Stop, you’ll be arrested” a small voice seemed to whisper in my ear. I wasn’t dancing too bizarrely that security would mind, but being that I felt aligned with God, it made sense that the enemy of this world would be looking to destroy me.  

I gathered my things and  wandered the streets downtown for a while, finally ending up at a bus stop when it began to rain. 

Here is where my mind really begin to fail me. Prior to this point I held a lot of unsubstantiated beliefs, but it was over those last 24 hours things started to go haywire. I was praying, intensely, asking why God had led me to St. louis. My thoughts were coming at a rapid rate, so quickly it was hard to identify where they were coming from. All I was sure of is they were not mine. I would be walking down the street and something would tell me “ pick up that hat on the ground, put it on.” i would notice the tag would have a number like 3343 which would add up to 67 and it would set my mind spinning on if that was God telling me to put the hat on and if there was a deeper meaning.

 I never actually heard any voices, but the thoughts in my own head had a life of their own.  As I sat in that bus stop, the thoughts kept coming faster and faster. I saw a father pull up with his family in a small car. It was pouring rain and as I watched him hold the umbrella for his wife, then open up the rear door and take his child from their car seat, it broke something inside of me again and I started crying. Why was I so different? Why couldn’t I be a father and have a family that I loved? I felt so distant from everyone. “ Go to Oregon Sam, I’ll be waiting for you on the becah.” The thought popped into my head and I didn’t know what to do with it. “ I only want what God has for me!” i shouted back in my own mind, trying to find contentment and peace of mind. What followed was an intense battle with my own mind mocking me as I insisted on peace and higher purpose. Never before had my own thoughts antagonized me so directly, calling me names and shouting curses.  The sign at the bus stop said “ hold until safe” and that was exactly what I intended to do- to hold myself until I felt safe again or the thoughts calmed down. It felt like my mind was melting.

I can do this thing, and I’m not sure if it’s common or not where I can empty my mind completely and not think when I went to. I can simply shut off my thoughts. I think I did that then after a while and just watched the rain. 

I noticed two people walk by during this time. The first was a rough looking, ghetto type character with sunglasses and flashy dress. He motioned for me to follow him, and in the midst of the mental war that my mind was going through I imagined him to be the devil. I shook my head and the man tossed his hand, waving it in a “ you ain’t shit.” kind of way and he walked off. I was relieved, but wondered what purpose my life would now have not in the devils employ. The second person to walk by I barely noticed as I wasn’t facing him when he did. He was on his cell phone, and I only heard him say” metro station.” Immediately I got up and followed him, figuring maybe I would take a train back to the greyhound station. I still had all my bags with me at this point while I bought my ticket, went down the stairs and stood on the metro platform. 

[peggyobrennan]

Identity Crisis Summer 2017

The world has twisted since this picture taken at National Rainbow Gathering last year, and so have I.

A deep depression has taken hold, even though I’m back on Cymbalta for it. I start therapy tomorrow, so let’s hope there’s at least no harm...

I must open up, in hopes there are hopes.

I tried writing about it, gonna share.

I called it: Identity Crisis Summer 2017:

So much irony having an identity crisis because I've come Home and am living with Family (blood, not Chosen). But I individuated so very very strongly, and then some. Ran away age 14, came back at 15. Ran away age 26, came back age 30. Ran away last spring, came back now. Moved to the other side from family of Rock Creek Park (after months in the mountains) to raise my kids in a diverse community, against Dad’s wishes, and ...I dunno, was he right? After age 10 they had a less privileged upbringing, which turned profoundly underprivileged, and now the side effects of poverty haunt us.

More irony is that there are facts of my existence that are very unusual, yet I feel nothingness, emptiness, clear vast blank, which is sometimes euphoric but mostly terrifying.  I have rare traits, and I didn't fabricate them. Like I birthed twins, accidentally concieved but profoundly WANTED, and their dad was/is a sh*t. He did things that would be impossible in the age of social media, even tho I understood we had an open marriage. Use your imagination.

I have the drive that artists have, yet the unmotivated state of a depressive.

One of my beloved musical partners said a year ago, “Oh, are you just gonna do Walkabout?” and my answer was YES, sincerely, but I kept letting my non-shine-ity hold me back. And I got wrapped up in some dreamtime, sorta. I DID go many many miles and have lots of adventures and see scads of sights. Then NYC in April/May was kinda painful, cuz I THOUGHT I could do the job at the lovely Ganas Community, but they let me go and my poverty mentality grabbed their offer of  “Sure take the whole paycheck, but be gone if so” (it's more complicated) and I regret that, MAYBE.

Maybe not, cuz my daughter DID get deep strong benefits from Mom being Home. Until we clashed last week when I got profoundly triggered and alienated her. (Which would explain Strong Sadness) Prayers requested for HER healing, which'll overflow to US.

IS there such a thing as a Healer who loses her sh*t, gets profoundly triggered and alienates her beloveds? Why yes, every shaman I know personally (and there are many) does that. But I then doubt my healing abilities. The Wounded Healer is a real thing but your own healing should have actually happened! Mine has, but I guess I'm in relapse.

Yet, last Solstice, 3 weeks ago, the circle I was part of insisted on my priestessing some of our process, and I did it. And my daughter lovingly attended with me, and she knew the Spiritual Giant Women who were in the circle since her childhood. That is good, deeply good.

Then on our way out that beloved young woman said I was like “comic relief for the circle”, a jester's role that sometimes (frequently) works for me. But does that mean I was justified in reading about Pierrot's Columbine's and Harlequin's poly triad (my take) for HOURS the other day, learning way more than I can use about jesting, and dreaming more?!? I don't know. I sure do love learning and exploring. And dreamtime.

Also on our way out of Solstice ritual my daughter called her twin brother to describe our antics. The wondrousness of shamanic dancing. I THINK she was telling that, but I have Selection Bias, though I KNOW she was delightfully recalling.

He wasn't there because 1)it's a women's circle, not my choice originally 2)he insisted there is no such thing as spirituality, though I would love him to argue that I've also got THAT wrong.

He, my beloved son, called me last Saturday, after I spent Friday night in the hospital. He showed his philosophical bent and worked to reassure me that everything is ok, bless him (oops). He Stood Up for Mom. See, my siblings? This is an excellent young man. Period.

They'd been recommending surgery, which is always to be avoided. I have a complicated medical history that is disgusting and infuriating to hear. So I'll spare you, even though it matters for this. Most pertinent NOW is that the red streaks radiating from the (internal) wound are gone and the pain is too. And more surgery would undoubtedly cause more adhesions which started this whole thing, besides incompetence of medical professionals. See my performance piece entitled A Scar Is Born, with the happy face ending. It isn't online; hopefully someday. I waver between open book and discretion. Frustratedly. Of course I would benefit from a manager and an agent.

I am in limbo of sorts. I have deep friends, and also am “getting the word out”, and the fact is, I use social media a lot. If it isn't interactive, social media can be mentally harmful. Sez I and others.

Home? Hometown? My family of origin has rejected me harshly, mostly in those microagressive ways, but more. Attempting to have my children removed and put in foster care in 2006, and other outrageous treatment of my children and me. Cousins and extended family are quite decent and loving. One must mention the mental illness of my older sister, who fixated on me (and mine) or decades, wrangling other family against me. Though it began very young, that's over now.

Part of my family's rejection might come from the fact that I am not straight. I was born with the bisexuality. It's true that I wouldn't have had to act on it, even though I already had at age 7, and then how about this one: I truly am gender nonconforming. I was in a theatre play at at the age of 12 in which I played a man, so maybe that's to blame, but I was always been told to be more ladylike, and only with the recent freedoms granted have I not had massive angst about clothing. Instead I've been doing drag surreptitiously for over 3 decades. At an all girls camp, one must have “drag”, teehee. The girl who played the (cross dressed) lead was stunning and talented and I had a big crush. Didn't recognize it for what it was. Nowadays I would have been allowed to. A few weeks ago I was in line at a pharmacy and the person behind me didn't think I was moving fast enough, so they said “Ma'am? Uh, sir? Erm. There's a space in front of you.” Just a few days ago at the hospital my attending physician asked if I was sexually active, immediately following with “Male? Female? Both?” to which my easy answer was “Both”. Because she offered me that option and it is truth. Before our recent liberations, I would have had to quickly discern how to honestly answer, so as to not offend the doctor and stay pertinent to the case. MY gender and sexuality are twisted together, but please know that they are not the same thing. Always the activist, another problem of mine...

More reason to not feel nothingness: I'm a recovering alcoholic addict, and the stats are low for longterm recovery. Another rarity. I have become a sort of 12 Step Junkie, so I have that indoctrination of  “A day without ____ is a productive day”, but... it rings hollow too much, so YAY for all the other tools. Like not isolating and having a network of people, but ironically I am only speaking with one or two f2f. Depression is contagious; gods forbid I bring it on you. My latest are NarAnon but the Most Useful is Underearners Anonymous. Here's how I'm not gonna break the 11th tradition: I know people in those programs, and I did not say I was a member. This is the 1st time I've ever even come close. My intense fear of doing a wrong thing is probably at play here.

Furtherly ironic is me not playing music with others, or at all; more of the self-destruction of depression. Until yesterday, I hadn't picked up my guitar in 9 days, practically a CRIME for a string player. One benefit of being in my home city COULD BE the network of musical connections that I truly developed here. Just a few years ago there were several public events where when I showed up without my instrument, I got scolded. But I need Right Livelihood, and there are many factors that have made music not my livelihood.

Yet I still am having a massive identity crisis. And having the classic symptoms of depression, Very Low Motivation, confusion, sadness, indecision, vicious cycles of ill health due to lack of self care, because... what's the use. It is significant that I went for medical care the other day and fortunate that I did. I will never suicide; I could not do that to my kids.

I am researching grad school to get a master's in psychology and become addictions counselor, hopefully utilizing my BA in studio art, my musical core, my jesterly nature, and my initiation as shamanic healer. Attempting research while wasting time, cuz I aint worth the effort, and having fabulous sammiches.

Obviously I am also hyper-graphic, compulsive with many things, and am knowingly using the hour of Good Mood that follows Morning Coffee to write this. I'm also considering full time work for a friend's Green Company, secretarial stuff. I do hope they actually noticed how genuinely butch I am, and heard me when I said grad school is likely in my near future.

Anyway, idletime is for the birds. Though I'm tremendously grateful for the Soft Landing that my auntie is providing for me here in NW DC. I just wish I wasn't living alone, but a beloved cousin has invited me to her beautifully crowded house in Bethesda for grad school time, and we're talking.

This beautiful picture of Rainbow Gathering 2016 feels worlds away. In many ways, it is. But I myself took it, and I was there. Sincerely. Just because the Spirit Names I have been given didn't stick, and I look like a Failed Soccer Mom with the S.A.D. Diet to strangers (deformed belly with that old wound, & authentic Nighttime Binging Disorder, please don't shoot me), doesn't mean I don't have relevant vital depth and value.

Depression sucks. It killed many members of my family and it's not gonna take me.

I'm just changing, and seeking. I was a performance artist, I was an illustrator, painter, my writing has been published, I will always be a musician, even if I believe people who consider females incapable of that, eff that. I am a multimedia artist. I put on an excellent concert 10 days ago. I had a visual art exhibition 16 months ago. I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and goldangit I handled the weirdest election in US history in a coal town, worked their general store, then worked in another pretty-well-integrated-with-mainstream commune (my preferred lifestyle, attempting freeganism, seriously) in NYC and … I'm gonna figure out how to tell these tales. And integrate them with my life.