#grandma takes everything i do for her for granted again

[gender-euphowrya]

old people really were raised on the idea that their descendants were just future caretakers for them and never fucking learned to think otherwise

[artsy-moonwalker]

A new fairy among the fountain.

Let me get a little personal.

My first introduction to the legend of zelda came to me when I was around eight years old. I was at my grandmother’s house, and noticed she had Mario 64 in her basket of n64 games. I was already a big Mario fan and wanted to play it, but my grandma insisted that I try out something different. So she put me on Ocarina of Time.

Ever since then, to be fully dramatic, it changed my life. That moment is so very special to me. Zelda has become my most favorite piece of media and was rooted that way since I was a little kid. My childhood would be completely different if I was never introduced to it, and I can’t imagine who I would be today without that spark of adventure motivating my life for all those years. It brought me comfort, creativity, warmth, inspiration, etc. etc. etc… I could go on all day. I would never change a single things if it meant not having the cherished memories I have with each Zelda game I’ve played.

But very recently, the person who introduced me to the series as a kid left us.

And when I returned home that day, the world spinning, my head numb, the only thing I could think of doing was playing Ocarina of Time. She loved this series. She loved the fantasy and the magic and the characters. She loved every aspect of it, especially the fairies. She even called herself one. I think I played oot that day because I wanted nothing more than to feel her presence once again. To bring out the thing her and I bonded over the most. Our strongest shared interest. I can’t begin to thank her enough for everything she gave me. The butterfly effect is SO real. And her gift of a childhood full of adventure is one I’ll never take for granted.

And now that enough time has passed, I like to think she flies among all of the fairy fountains in every version of Hyrule.

[critter-of-habit]

When I watched the new What If episode with Peggy & Nat I immediately thought of you, your art, and what your reaction would be. Especially since it was kind of a retelling of Captain America & The Winter Soldier.

What are your thoughts on the episode?

Seeing as you asked, I WILL TELL YOU MY MANY THOUGHTS. WITH PICTURES.

under the cut for length lol

First of all, as usual the animation, particularly the lighting, was incredible. Also the effects! The explosions, smoke, everything. Always blows me away how much effort and love these animators put in to What If.

I love that it's Winter Soldier based because by god do I love that movie - but I also love that it's so very different to my AU cos that means I can keep going with it lol.

Okay here we go with the highlights - Blatant flirting and showing off:

This???:

Just how in sync they were with every fight scene - even in the Battle of New York when they had only known each other for a few hours.

HEY LOVELY. LOVELY:

Angst. And how soft Nat is here:

"Hey, Peg. I got you."

Natasha's inability to sit in a chair properly:

Peggy making a star wars reference and Nat calling her out on it like .. Nat you RECOGNIZED the reference you're a nerd too

"You know I always wondered how you got all those GI Boys to follow a woman into war: question answered." ie. "I'm so into you right now":

This Natasha stabbed Dreykov to death with a corkscrew and I love her for it.

Natasha instinctively putting herself in between Peggy and Steve even though they're both twice her size

I've already mentioned but, the choice to focus on Natasha's face in this scene:

Nat's face here:

Natasha only getting taken down by the robots because her gay-Peggy-focused-ass gets distracted when Peggy runs off to protect Steve: (I'll come back to this point later as a negative)

MELINA.

Was anyone else looking to see if Yelena was there

"Let's unpack that later, shall we?"

"I don't know whether to kiss you, kill you, or dissect you." "Let me guess, all three?"

I bet the Captain Carter film was baby Nat's gay awakening lol:

Melina's glorious slo-mo "grandma, it's me, anastasia" coat drop:

Peggy running to save Nat T_T

These shots:

Nat wearing the same outfit from Winter Soldier:

Natasha "too-loyal-and-infatuated-for-her-own-good" Romanoff going along with Peggy again to look for Steve without even being asked. (in stark contrast to the end of Winter Soldier when Natasha did not go with Steve to look for Bucky, I might add)

New reaction image:

Peggy and Nat calling and reaching out to each other when the portal opens and ALMOST making it - then Natasha punching the ground in desperation T_T

These two look SO COOL and I can't wait for the 1602 episode.

Negative points:

Rehashing Ste/ggy all over again - we already HAD that and it was endgame, why do it again?

As much as I adore Natasha's intense loyalty, it's very one sided in this episode and I'm wondering if that's intentional. Peggy is hyperfocused on Steve and leaves Nat behind to run after him multiple times, even though he is in an entire suit of armor and is FINE and Natasha is the one actually getting injured. Then she's leaving at the end without saying goodbye to go find Steve again (despite there being no reason to think he's alive? he EXPLODED??) even though Natasha just went through a trauma too and shouldn't be abandoned. Kinda feels like Peggy is taking Natasha's always being there for granted and I really hope it's addressed in following episodes (though I doubt it will be - it'll just be Steve focused again -_- )

Okay I think I'm done. This was a LOT I'm not sorry I've been waiting for more content for SO LONG I can't wait for the rest of the episodes to rip my heart out and stomp on it :3

[coltishcaterpillar]

Unmasked / Platonic!Alastor x Teen! Daughter Reader

Chapter II: Sneaking Suspicion

Summary:

After reading over thirty-one entries, three disturbing pages are brought to light….or the darkness, depending on how Emily wants to look at it.

WARNING: This entire chapter (and probably the next one) depicts a very disturbed, traumatized, paranoid child (who is you, the reader.), who has just lost the person she loved most in the world. A HUGE deterioration in her psyche is seen here.

Look out for: Murder, Mental Illness, Paranoia, Anxiety, Delusions, Cannibalism, etc….

November 12th, 1933

I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, my dear diary. Please, Jesus, please help me find my way back, I’m…I’m shaking relentlessly and the monsters at night won’t leave me alone.

My Pa….he’s not come home in three weeks. I know he will never open that door again, but I wish he would just one last time.

It started with a simple hunting trip. I saw him bringing a large trash bag over his shoulder whilst he was going out, and I just assumed it held his gun and other necessities.

A few hours later, people heard gunshots go off in the area he hunted and now he’s…..

When they opened the bag they found another mangled body….and concluded that my Papa was the serial killer terrorizing New Orleans since 1922.

No, he couldn’t have done anything of the sort. He was a good man. PAPA was a good man. He was. He is.

I read it in the papers…nobody wants to see me anymore. I’ve tried contacting everyone I knew and loved, and they told me to never set foot on their property again, they thought I was involved in this hellish situation!

Anne, James, Elbert, Carol, Mr. Devereaux, Charlotte, Martin…..EVERYBODY has abandoned me!

I wanted to desperately contact Grandma, so I wrote her a series of letters. Her caretaker wrote me a letter back that she went into shock after finding out Pa died, and she’s….well, she’s in Heaven now too.

I just turned sixteen, please. I need my Papa back….my Grandma….

I’ve been in the house surviving off of scraps. I’m afraid to leave again; I don’t want to be shot, I don’t want people coming after me because of what my Papa allegedly did. I’ve lost so much weight, I’m tired, I feel sick….

I’m not ready to be a woman, to grow up, quite yet. I grew up taking things for granted; I thought I would have my family and friends for life. How will I find a job? Will anybody take me in? Can I find a new family?

I’m still here, I’m still here, my dear friend. My beautiful…I’ve not lost my mind, not yet. I’m not crazy, am I? No, no….I’m just….going through some traumatic moments!

I’m hungry….

My stomach is hurting so bad, I’m perspiring and my toes are curled…I need more food. I’ve eaten nearly everything, I have no money to purchase anything else…

Every time it growls, there’s a new tang of pain….

Papa, you would never….you’re a good man, Pa. I love you, I’ll always love you….

Oh, it all makes sense now! Why you never wanted me to see what you brought home, why you were always out late, why you were so secretive…oh, Pa, why didn’t you tell me?! I…I would’ve….contacted the authorities.

Which is what you didn’t want.

I HATE YOU, YOU FUCKING DEMON! HOW DARE YOU BRING THIS UPON ME AND GRANDMA, I HOPE YOU ROT YOU SICK, TWISTED, SORRY EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN-

I miss your kisses and your hugs, Pa. Please….please come back. At least tell me where your grave is so I can hug your body one last time….I’ve never wanted to hear your voice more, whether it be in real life or the radios, please!

Oh my god, what are we having for dinner? I’m starving, Pa….

I have a headache, Pa….please give me some medicine to ease the pain…..

I need you, I need somebody. Anybody. Please….

I never want to see you again. If I ever see you again after this lifetime I will do everything in my power to slaughter you a second time for all the pain that you’ve caused….

I’m going to take a breather soon, my dear friend. I need to let off some steam. I’m….I just need to find an energy source. I’ll be back, I promise.

——————————————

November 13th, 1933

Oh, I’ve found something to eat, finally. It didn’t taste as terribly as I thought, and in fact, it tasted similar to how you cooked our meat, Pa. So tender….so, so, tender…..

The gangster didn’t even see it coming. I don’t think he liked me, he was looking at me like I did something wrong. I hushed him, hushed him well, and said,

“No, no, sir. Why are you giving me that look?? I’m only hungry! I’m just trying to survive! Please don’t let me starve!”

I hated that gaze. That look on his face made me feel like a monster, like I wasn’t justified in my action to cut him into tiny little pieces-

Pa, it’s just like you used to make. I never knew how…similar the meat tasted until now. Why did you do that? To so many innocent people….this man was not innocent, Pa. He was part of a cartel, I was doing this world a favour!

I feel better, I think. My stomach feels more satisfied than it has in days.

I don’t feel any better, though. I just…I just ate somebody….

I don’t know what to do! How is….how is his family going to react when they find this out?! I….I caused him pain, so much pain….

But I need more. I want to live….I have so much goodness to offer to the world, I promise I can be better! I’m not usually like this! I promise to make you proud! To make everybody proud…like I’ve always tried to do!

I know how much I was lacking in performance, I’ve never been cut out for the big leagues, but I am positive I can amount to something! If this world will give me a chance, I’ll be the best version of myself I can ever be. I can, I can! You always said I could do anything I put my mind to, I can do this. I can still be a happy girl and young woman, I can still grow up, I can make new friends. Perhaps I’ll move? Yes, maybe that’s a good idea…

I miss you. I miss Grandma, I miss our talks. The things you would do with me…how you used to sing to me when I was scared of the monsters under my bed, our weekly theatre nights; we’d always go to see Charlie Chaplin, that was your favourite; and it grew to be mine too.

I miss how close we were to each other. We were like….we were like two peas in a pod. We couldn’t be one without the other.

1917, was the year of my birth. How well do you remember picking me up that day? When I was alone, cold, nearly dead…in a dumpster? You saved me.

That’s why….I don’t want to believe you did those things, Papa. I don’t. I have a very strong sense of morality, you know that. I….I can’t fathom you ever being capable of something like that.

I…I don’t think I knew you, Papa. You…

You betrayed me.

Everybody was right, you know. The suspicions people had about you. Anne…she always talked about you with a certain look of fear in her eyes, and I always made the time to defend you to anybody who ever judged.

How was it, that the only person who never saw the signs, was me? The person who lived with you for sixteen years?

Maybe I just didn’t want to believe it.

And now look at what you’ve done. You’ve killed a part of me…you killed Grandma; your mother! I was supposed to meet her up for tea a few days after your death, but time had beaten me to it. What ever will I do, without your love?

I miss you, Pa. And I love you, so very much. But you better pray to the devil himself; that I do not die for another five decades. I won’t be able to hold myself back…from hurting you. And I’ll hurt you bad.

To be hated….to be attacked by somebody you protected, nurtured, loved with all your heart….yes, that’s the pain I want to inflict on you. Your daughter, the person you’d kill for, turning against you.

I love you, Pa, I really do. But….a serial killer will never be somebody I bode well with.

———————

January 10th, 1934

I am sorry. For everything. It’s very frigid out here due to winter, and I’ve been camping outside for quite a while…I can’t feel my legs anymore.

To….anybody I may have scared or hurt, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry.

[anyasathenaeum]

YAY YAY YAY ITS OPEN AGAIN! Ok so I really really want a part 2 of Vash and his spouse visiting Lina and Sheryl. Maybe they even have a celebration similar to the one Lina suggested? It was so cute and I really want some more! They're such a cute family!

In The End (Part 2)

A/N: Hiiiiii Anon, omg yes! I'm happy to write this for you, I really loved writing the initial fic so here is a part 2! I absolutely love being able to write Vash being granted some peace and surrounded by lots of love :D

Warnings: Potential spoilers for episode 12 of Trigun Stampede, potential spoilers for episode 18 of Trigun, the author taking liberties

"(Y/N), Eri-I mean, Vash, please tell us everything that's happened since you've both left!"

Grandma Sheryl's movements were much slower than they had been the last time you'd seen her, but the old woman was still as sharp as ever. She sat down in her favourite chair, across from yourself and Vash, over the dinner table where you all had shared many a meal.

"Well..."

You and Vash exchanged glances as you both filled Grandma Sheryl and Lina in on your adventures and everything that had happened in the years since they had seen you last.

"And once it was all over, I finally decided I'd been an idiot for long enough and convinced (Y/N) to marry me," Vash finished with a smile, his loving gaze trained on you.

Despite having been married for some time, you still felt your cheeks redden as you smiled at your husband - you couldn't believe Vash had married you to this day. You might've dreamed of marrying Vash before, but for it to have actually happened amazed and dumbfounded you every day since.

"Didn't take much convincing," You admitted sheepishly as Grandma Sheryl and Lina both cooed over the news of your marriage.

"Oh, dears, that's absolutely wonderful! Lina and I both wondered how long it would take the two of you to see sense and realize you were perfect for one another," Grandma Sheryl exclaimed, smiling knowingly between you and Vash.

Both you and Vash felt your faces turn dark red, and you both realized just how blind the two of you had been for years if even Grandma Sheryl and Lina saw the signs of your feelings for one another.

"I'm just mad the two of you got married and didn't think to invite us! And I can't believe you never told us your real name, Vash!" Lina pouted, glaring at the two of you in turn.

"I had to keep my name secret, Lina, for my own safety. And we didn't invite anybody. We didn't have time. We didn't even have a wedding. It was just (Y/N) and I, the judge who married us and the secretary as a witness," Vash explained, his tone gentle as he spoke to her.

"Well, you'll have your wedding celebration here, then, so Grandma Sheryl and I and other townsfolk can attend!" Lina proclaimed, placing her hands on her hips and grinning widely, "Problem solved, and I might even consider forgiving you both!"

This caused you to burst into laughter. Lina was still as feisty as you remembered her being, if not more so now that she was older.

You could see Vash smiling happily at Lina's suggestion, and as the two of you made eye contact, you came to an unspoken agreement - you would have a celebration that both Lina and Grandma Sheryl could attend. They were the closest thing that you and Vash had to family, and if the two of you could make them happy by letting them celebrate with you, then you were doing it, no questions asked.

"Alright, it's a deal," Vash conceded, pulling Lina into a hug and ruffling her hair playfully, "You better help us plan and set everything up, though!"

Sure enough, Lina was happily involved in preparing your celebration with you and Vash over the next couple days, running around and decorating the house with different coloured streamers and flowers and other beautiful things while Grandma Sheryl cooked food for those coming to celebrate. You did your best to help Grandma Sheryl prepare everything, ensuring the old woman didn't keel over trying to make everything by herself.

Soon, before you knew it, the day of the celebration arrived. You found yourself waking early to the sound of Lina banging on your door, shouting something about how you "had to get ready this instant or you'll be late!". Before you knew it, you were surrounded by familiar people fussing and fiddling with your hair and your clothes and everything, getting you ready for your wedding.

"You guys do know I'm already married, right?" You teased your helpers, and they all laughed but continued their work.

When you looked in the mirror, the creature looking back at you was resplendent - truly, a thing of beauty. It moved when you did, and you couldn't bring yourself to believe that that magnificent creature was you.

"Oh, (Y/N)!" Lina cried, coming up behind you to gaze in the mirror, "You look amazing!"

"Thank you, Lina," You replied, hugging her gently to your side as she embraced you back, "Thank you for all you've done, for celebrating with Vash and I. I love you."

"I love you, too, (Y/N)," Lina answered, burrowing into your arms - despite being more grown up, she seemed so young. "Now, let's go! Or you'll be late!"

Before you could make sense of what was happening, you found yourself outside Grandma Sheryl and Lina's house, walking down a makeshift aisle towards the man who had been your husband for a couple years already.

Vash looked handsome as ever, in a suit that was simple but fit him well regardless. He looked like a demigod among mortals, his blonde hair swept back and his eyes shinning as he looked at you. Vash positively glowed seeing you walk towards him, done up and smiling at him with more love than he'd ever seen. He couldn't stop the tears welling up in his eyes as you approached him, looking like an angel, walking slowly but gracefully.

"Hi," Vash whispered to you, his blue eyes welling with tears of joy. He looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, as if you were his everything. Because you were. You were Vash's everything, and he would protect you from all the bad things in the world until the end of his days.

"Hi," You whispered back to him, smiling widely as Vash took your hand in his.

You stood together before the officiant, a kind old man from the town, who asked you both to recite your vows to one another. You and Vash both kept it short and sweet, given you had exchanged your more profound vows the day you'd first gotten married, and sealed your "new" union with a passionate kiss.

You could hear cheering from Lina, Sheryl and other townsfolk as you kissed Vash, and the two of you blushed bright pink as you smiled at the small group of people celebrating with you both.

"I love you, (Y/N)," Vash whispered to you as he kissed the back of your hand, "So, so much."

"I love you, too, Vash," You answered, reaching over to kiss Vash's cheek as the two of you walked back down the makeshift aisle.

The rest of the evening was spent among friends, laughing and drinking and eating, everybody happy to celebrate your and Vash's love for one another. By the end of the evening, you and Vash snuck outside for a moment with each other, just the two of you.

"Well, it seems now, at least by Lina's standards, we are officially married," You spoke softly to your husband, who laughed at your comment, his head resting on your shoulder as he hugged from behind.

"It seems so," Vash agreed, kissing the side of your head gently, "We're now Lina-approved."

"The highest honour," You chuckled, snuggling back into your husband's embrace, "So, what do we do now?"

Vash fell silent as he thought to himself for a couple moments, clearly trying to piece together your next steps.

"We live, (Y/N). You and I, together. We live."

[starrrling]

TASK 006: THE TALENT SHOW [ ... encore ... ]

“Actually, wait, can I go again?”

Even at the heights of her alcoholism, Reece had always been sort of a lightweight: she’s been the same height since middle school, and she’s held her liquor like an (alcoholic) eighth-grader indefinitely. Seventh months of sobriety, though, had rendered her tolerance at an all-time-low, and she felt dizzy and warm almost as soon as she swallowed against the familiar burn of the liquor.

She floated her way through the final six performances; she was sickly, shamefully satisfied by the way the heat moving through her cells made everything feel better, exactly like she knew it would. Who had she been to try and pretend that she could suffer through a lifetime of white-knuckled restraint? Not every unloved child could grow up into somebody who’d been worth saving. She was, after all, her mother’s bastard daughter: an aberrant footnote at the end of somebody else’s better story. Why not drink?

After a few minutes, the shot settled, Reece’s cranium loosened, and all of the rest of it went away, leaving behind only the simple, salient question, something that didn’t make her sad at all: Why not drink?

Through Naomi’s knife-throwing, Vikram’s recitation of Pi, Natalia’s dreary Debussy, Reece floated, and she thought, Why not drink? And she didn’t know that she was going to sneak another shot until she did it, and she didn’t know she was going to take the stage again once everything was over until she did it, but once she was up there again, blinking against the light as if she’d woken up there, mid-sleepwalking, Reece understood that the entire evening was irreversible. She’d already stood up in front of everyone again, which meant that the worst thing she could possibly do would be not to make it count.

“Actually, wait, can I go again?” Reece interrupted what might have otherwise been the end of the talent show, not waiting for anyone to grant her permission—she was flailing in the focus, looking out at all of those sets of eyes, spilling irradiance like headlights, auspicious of roadkill. “Because I think I did it wrong, before. With the song. He didn’t even like that song,” she explained, with a derisive snort, as if she and Richard’s ghost and all of them in the room were in on some kind of inside joke at Reece’s own expense. “

I actually have a confession to have instead, if that’s cool, ‘cause I lied before, the other day. Mickey started talking about the last time she saw Richard, and I said the last time I saw him was July—I did see him then, on my grandma’s birthday—that story was true, I mean—but I saw him again, too, after that.”

There had to be some reason that she was telling them this, but she didn’t think it was absolution. She didn’t think. “Last time I saw Richard, it was the first week of August.” She’d made the drive with the brand-new six-month sobriety chip in her pocket—homemade, courtesy of Zelda, a shiny plastic party-store coin with three googly eyes super-glued to each side; one for every month since Reece got sober. “I drove up from Staten Island without calling first, and when I showed up here, he said, ‘Reece, what a pleasant surprise,��� and then I turned and puked on Jerry’s feet, instead. Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause it’s what he was thinking, which is why I told him, ‘don’t worry, I’m not drunk! I’m just pregnant. Also, can I have 500 bucks for an abortion?’ He was quiet for the longest time—like, somebody was on the floor, cleaning my puke off of Jerry, and Richard was still just looking at me. I thought, my God, I’ve finally done it, Mrs. Tristan was right, I’ve given the poor man an aneurysm; I’ve killed him. But then he finally cleared his throat, and he went to get his checkbook. And then he went to get his keys." He'd driven him there himself, Reece silent in the passenger seat, unendurably grateful. "He let me crash here that weekend. And when I left, he, uh—he told me to… to take care of myself, and to… come again soon,” she said, her voice cracking, breaking off, rising up into a reedy, lachrymal pitch. “So, that’s, uh—that’s the last time I saw him.”

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

june 17, 2021 12:00 p.m. st. francis catholic cemetery

dear grant,

by the time you read this, i don’t know where you’ll be in life, but i can’t imagine this becoming irrelevant. at least for me, while i'm writing this, it’s one day after i overheard you and your best friend henry talking in your room. you said, “i don’t believe in god but i think i'm missing something because you and everyone else i know seem to think he’s real.” and i know you were talking about me before that.

it’s not the first time i've heard you really confused about, well, what’s out there. you asked me a while ago why i was so comfortable not trying to treat my cancer and just letting myself go naturally. i told you that’s something you have to do sometimes in difficult situations, but that’s not really the full story. i'm okay with it because i believe in something better. it’s not about whether i'm right or not, or whether god and a heaven are really out there. it’s just about believing in something and feeling comfortable in it.

but you know, i think being able to say i believe in god and a heaven and that jesus christ died for me is a sign of privilege. lately, being sick is the first thing in my life (my life, we're not talking about everything else bad in the world) that has ever made me question anything about my beliefs. i've always been able to get away with saying there’s a god-made reason for everything and that everything will turn out okay. it’s not so easy to rationalize anymore when you’re facing something really bad.

i don’t think you have the same privilege i do. you've had a much harder life than me. i can’t understand why, but mom is terrible to you. why would you believe in a benevolent god who loves you and wants the best for you when you’ve spent your whole life suffering? it doesn’t make any sense, does it? it doesn’t make sense to me either. i'm sorry if my beliefs ever made you feel worse. as much as i believe, i can poke a lot of holes in my beliefs. it’s been a while since i've been able to really say that god has a plan. i think he’s out there and i think he loves us, but i don’t think he controls us. if he does, then i have a serious problem with what he’s done to you. there’s a theory about that concept of god not being in control, but i can’t remember what i read. i'm sure you could talk to father lonergan about it, though. he’s kind of secretly sacrilegious in his beliefs, more than you’d think.

anyway, don’t feel bad for not being able to believe in what a lot of us believe in. i promise you you’re not the only one, and you won’t hurt anyone for not believing. uncle paddy is an atheist and no one gives a fuck. i know you take after the way he talks, so maybe that’ll make you feel better :) our grandma also knows a suspicious amount about old irish paganism and folk beliefs and she’s always been very open-minded towards other religions, so don’t confuse yourself thinking she’s all that devout and worried about your eternal salvation. i don’t know what she actually believes, but i don’t think it’s what she says out in the open. you should ask her about it when you’re ready.

most of all, i'm not hurt by you having different beliefs. the only thing that hurts me is that you’re confused. i don’t want you to feel that way. no matter what, i can accept anything that happens to me because i think there’s something better after this, but you don’t have something to cling to, to make you feel comfortable. i don’t get the impression you really like the fully scientific belief either. not to put words in your head (feel free to mark up this letter and tell me how wrong i am) but i think you’re scared that there’s nothing out there at all, that all there is in life is without purpose and meaning. if the universe did create itself (which it did, i'm not an idiot), then you still have to grapple with how the event that made such a beautiful universe also created evil.

neither explanation satisfies you, does it?

again, there’s a reason we believe in all these things. it’s seriously not about correctness. all belief systems are equally "right." it’s just about that believing does something for us. you don’t even have to believe in the same thing forever. i just hope you find something that brings you comfort. i don’t want you to suffer. and i don’t want you to feel like i'm not with you anymore.

that’s the other thing about believing in heaven for me. the thing that makes me most scared of dying is leaving everyone behind. and i'm actually scared of that. i won't tell you that now because it doesn't make me feel any better to see you scared. i don’t want to say goodbye to you, to kelly, our grandparents, to our cousins, to my friends...but i have to. i have to, but i hope and believe i'll see you all again someday. i don’t just want to have something nice beyond this. i want the reunion of family and friends. i actually want that most of all. if i could only have any one benefit of the afterlife, i'd take the reunion. i don't know how that would works or if it's real, but i pray it is, and i pray that you will all be there regardless of your beliefs.

i love you very much <3 see you in the future. just don’t make it anytime soon, okay?

- your favorite sister, elizabeth

[ethereal-bumble-bee]

Live Life To the Fullest- A Short Letter

Dear Uncle,

Hey, it’s me. It’s really been a while, hasn’t it? I was just writing to tell you about some things that I’ve realized, things that I owe to you. It’s been so long since I’ve simply sat down and wrote, for no reason other than to share, and with everything happening so fast around me I figured it’s only fair that I share this with you.

I still do remember your funeral— so many people came to pay their respects, from your friends and family to the people you worked alongside, both in the service and in the house when you came home. My great-grandma cried over your casket as it was lowered into the ground, her youngest son gone before she even got to say goodbye, and I’m not too sure Aunt Mary even had the strength to. I’m sure you’d love to see how many people loved you, how many of us still miss you now, how many people gathered to listen to stories about you.

I remember that day so clearly. I remember crying myself sick, wondering why God would take you so early, wishing I had gotten to hug you one last time. I think we all did, really.

But out of everything, out of all of the grief and sadness that that day was full of, I remember my great-grandmother pulling me aside and making me promise her one thing- Now, you live your life to the fullest, baby— you’ve got to. Don’t you ever take this life that the good Lord has given you for granted. Make some memories, okay? She pointed to the newly-covered grave, your name carved into the stone. Make him proud.

That really did stick with me. Throughout my life, even through the moments that left me with scars and stains in the forms of teardrops on my face, her words have always stayed in the back of my mind.

And I am making memories, Uncle Mac. I’m crying, I’m laughing, I’m doing all the things that I should, and I’m cherishing every second of it. I’m living again, after so long wishing that I wasn’t, and now I can see why I was made to promise so much.

I’ve come to realize that every moment of this life is precious, every ounce of grief and love, happiness and mourning, no matter how good or bad.

I’m here, alive, a luxury that so many don’t get to experience. You’d be proud, I think, of how much I’ve grown, of the young lady your little P-Mac has become.

Ah, I’m rambling again. I just can’t wait to see you again, to tell you everything I’ve done, to share how the world has changed since you went home. You won’t agree with all of it, I’m sure, but I want to get to Heaven, and I want to look you in the eyes, and I want to say—

I did it, Uncle. I lived. I’ve got so much to tell you.

Love,

Your niece.

P.S- I still watch the Dallas Cowboys play football.

[thewholecrew]

@headstrongblake asked: what are their biggest pet peeves? what makes them smile? any hobbies they tried and didn’t take to? / all kids who want

biggest pet peeves:

grant ward - people who talk with food in their mouth, prying questions from strangers, small talk, nail biting

kassy harwell - slow walkers, loud talking & energetic energy before 11am, women being asked about babies and marriage when it wouldn't be asked to men

alec cross - people who get plants but don't care for them, people who like being negative/bringing the mood down on purpose

rev everheart - talking about feelings, touchy people, pda & gossiping

nathan bishop - saying 'i'm not hungry' then eating from his meal lol, pacing while trying to have a conversation

trinity lambert - being overly materialistic, constantly getting the newest phone model, men inserting themselves into conversations no one asked them to

what makes them smile?

grant ward - watching someone he cares about be happy or cute or silly, dogs, happy kids with their parents, teasing him (but also it runs the risk of him blushing so)

kassy harwell - her people, cute animals, jokes that arent quite funny enough to get her to laugh, seeing someone blush, seeing someone laugh, the ocean, the sunset, the stars, someone being cute, someone being genuine/wholesome

alec cross - people in love, flowers, bees, butterflies, his friends, anyone complimenting him, happy families, people smiling, his grandma, cute animals

rev everheart - fighting in the ring, enjoying nature, watching someone they care about (they have to be unnoticed and alone), their brother happy

nathan bishop - pretty much everything from the little things like seeing kids play outside or an old couple, to making people laugh, to seemingly annoying people (in good faith), being offered anything, being trusted, being given a chance, being sneaky, being cheeky, to more important things like making people he cares about happy

trinity lambert - being able to be herself and show her joy freely, someone complimenting her crafts and clothes and trinkets she's made, seeing karma strike someone

tried and failed hobbies:

grant ward - being able to play the piano; he had been taught to play a few songs as entertainment for his parents parties but when he messed up they said forget it and hired someone professional and he never took much interest in it again

kassy harwell - yoga, it was just too relaxing she'd rather just take a nap & doing graffiti; it was a lot of fun but she decided against it mostly because she didn't wish to have a run in with police. i can see her maybe doing graffiti art on canvases instead but it's a thing of the past for her

alec cross - writing & drawing, alec met kassy through art but he was never much good at it and prefers to model for drawings instead of doing it hismelf. he also wanted to write his own romance novels and ocassionally will write little prompts but its purely for himself

rev everheart - when rev was young their mother tried to get them into ballet which they refused and hated, also then was suggested to learn guitar but they do not have the patience and nearly broke it

nathan bishop - reading; growing up nate didn't manage to get a proper education therefore struggles with reading even if he's always fascinated in the stories, he just doesn't have the patience and can become a little embarrassed for the lack of speed and skill. sewing; not necessarily as a hobby he enjoys but he tried once or twice to fix the few clothes he had

trinity lambert - woodworking; trinity loves and wishes to try almost every hobby and activity and skill she can however, growing up she wanted to try building birdhouses and things like that however it was deemed too masculine for her and her parents refused to support it, that along with most sports aside from horseback riding and kickboxing for self defense

[diaryofanormalkid]

Irritating coworker rant. 🚩

Today I worked with one of my non-regular coworkers. She was getting on my last nerve. She’s had her shady moments, but today was the day she really showed her true colours.

Let’s start off with, she kept using my tissue box on MY side of my wicket without asking, and reaching over into my space without giving me a heads up, I know that seems small…

But hey, normally she warns me or asks if she wants to use them because I sneeze a lot and my allergies make me have to blow my noise quite frequently. So she knows I need those.

Also, when a hand suddenly comes closer to my face than I’m comfortable with, it’s polite to probably say something or at least ask before just snatching bare tissues, and all day at that too.

Another thing was she bought coffee for herself and my other coworker and didn’t bother to get me anything or even ask. Even when I do and treat them all the time. She made sure I saw too.

Walked right past me hovering around with her coffee as if to show it off to me. I looked dead at her and moved on as if I didn’t clock what’s she’s doing bc why give her a reaction.

I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of her seeing I was upset, frustrated or non-included for not getting a coffee. I can certainly afford my own coffee, thank you very much.

But she wasn’t considerate enough to ask me, so I kept it pushing. I see how it is. I was offended, but hey I don’t care enough about the 🚩 to let her get to me for something so small.

It’s all the things she does that add up that make me never want to speak to her ever again in my life. But hey, gotta live with her since she’s my coworker. I’ll have to be civil.

Something that also got on my nerves was when she commented on my outfit? Insinuating what exactly? I should’ve asked her to clarify specifically what she meant.

Because why was she mumbling? If she wanted to insult me, she could’ve said it with her whole chest and let her other coworkers know how she feels about me directly and kept it pushing.

The 🚩 wanted to mumble “I think he was too busy looking at YOUR shirt” as if the shirt I’m wearing is inappropriate. Mind you? My shirt is a fitted long sleeve cheetah print turtle neck…

Like I am completely covered… granted it might accentuate the tata’s a bit but if you saw how small chested I am, you would see how much haterade she had coming for me like that.

I was helping a customer and he commented on us not wearing Halloween costumes today. I said “oh it’s not my thing, but she has something Halloween themed” pointing at HER.

However she was behind the counter and he couldn’t see, plus he was hardly paying attention to her so he barely took the time to look before interrupting me.

Anywho, point is, she felt it was necessary to comment on MY outfit now. As if there’s anything wrong with it… now lady if you don’t suck it up your 60+ y/o BUTT with the jealousy + envy

🚩 was definitely projecting her insecurity onto me because she know she can’t pull off NOTHING like this. This lady has the biggest ED energy ever.

She is the epitome of almond mom. Except she’s old enough to be my grandma… okay maybe my aunt. Mind you, she wakes up everyday for walks: healthy.. until you realize how little she eats.

Her combination of eating popcorn (air) and protein bars/shakes as meals for the day have me wondering who hurt her bc home girl takes her food intake so seriously.

I am convinced she tracks cals on an app at home or on a watch or something. She counts her steps and everything. I just know she knows her exact weight to the tee. Always talking about weight.

So I’m ngl when she laughed and said “oh, that’s not very nice. I said that out loud” after making the comment about my shirt, I let that ish slide because I immediately knew it was projection.

Even got my other coworker laughing. And I really wanted to ask “what’s funny?” Bc I know her joke didn’t make any sense to be laughing if she claims it wasn’t nice…

She wanted to say that. Next time, say it with your chest since you cared enough to say it out loud… 🙄 and now adding to that, she wanted to ignore me pretty much the whole day.

From the moment I let her in at work, to the moment she left, she never initiated one conversation with me. Fine by me, but when I say something to you and you act like I don’t exist?

Oh, we’re done. That’s a goner relationship if we even had one. THAT I won’t tolerate. You not gonna treat me like I’m a spec of dust, especially for no reason. You got a problem, tell me.

If not, be respectful, keep it pushing and get out of my way. That’s really my problem with her. Because why go out of your way to cast me out and make me the loner when I didn’t do anything?

She has some deep rooted problems. Never should a 60+ women care that much about a person almost 40 years younger than her. Her daughter is a bit older than me…

I just have to wonder how she would feel if her daughter ever was treated that way. I don’t think she cares, as long as it’s me and not her daughter. She’s always been such a shady 🚩

Especially when my previous coworker used to work here. You could tell they would talk about me behind my back. It was just a matter of what was said.

That’s when I knew never to trust her 100% she always had this distasteful look in her eye. And the way she talks about ppl, if she is telling ME things, you know she’s talking about me also…

Another thing that irritated me is she would always interrupt me while I was helping clients, chatting up a storm and disrupting my productivity.

I knew dang well she was doing it intentionally bc half the ppl wouldn’t even look up to say hi back at her before realizing. Or it would be the quickest, most uninterested hello.

But lemme tell you, this 🚩 would walk by my wicket every time I stepped away from it as if she was scanning my stuff to see if I did something wrong.

Like she’s waiting for me to mess up. Or seeing if she can put something away that’s not any of her business. Or correct something that isn’t wrong. Anything just to talk down to me…

Like sorry, I didn’t realize you were micromanager here. Get this, she even asked me if I started up a time sheet of my OT shifts, and when I said “no” she just looks at me, takes my hand and slaps it.

Don’t get me started on how that pissed me off so much. I already hate being touched enough as it is… but this 🚩 had the audacity yesterday doing that. I was livid.

Like she laughed it off as if it was funny again. What’s with the laughing? She always thinks everything’s funny when it comes to disrespecting me… I’m done with that ish.

Idc Idc Idc. I will not give her access to my personal space any longer. Because we do not be having rapport like that for her to be thinking she can even get away with that.

She made it clear she doesn’t want no physical contact with me anyways the moment she stopped responding to my greetings. Like when she was leaving today, I told her bye.

She completely ignored it and says bye to everyone else surrounding me. Try to convince me that’s not intentional… just try. I was with a client too, so I even had a witness.

I am over her, completely. Passive aggressive ass ppl don’t work well with me. So I’m over that. I gotta protect my peace. I can’t have that negative energy around me.

If she don’t rock with me, I refuse to pretend to rock with her. However in the mean time, you not about to mess up my relationships with everyone else. Let me have that and we good.

I genuinely believe every single person in my work establishment prefers her over myself however regardless. Just because of her history there, her race, her connections to people in and out.

Overall, she just relates to everyone more than I do. And it irks my soul how much they can’t see how rudely she treats me. Because they would never have to be in my shoes to see it.

She acts like a mean girl still in high school, excluding the already very unpopular girl because they can’t relate or don’t know anything about her to make a conclusion.

It’s like she gave up on giving me a chance at ever having a relationship, so she’s making everyone else refuse to have a close relationship by highlighting my errors or bad traits.

Everyone messes up at my work, but I have many, many times. I am always so tremendously shamed for it due to the work culture and environment.

For me, they have never been as gracious to me as they have everyone else because I am the scapegoat. I mess up more because they never taught me the proper skills not to.

Granted, in a lot of ways, I have less experience. But I am part-time, so I haven’t always been around to observe and learn as much as others have, it’s not fair.

But on the other hand, when I ask for help, I am always dismissed or redirected and never helped to the capacity that I need. It makes me feel helpless and powerless.

No workplace has never made me feel so tiny and small. Weak and inadequate. Everyone says I should be grateful to have a job, but when they live in my shoes I want to hear what they say.

Is it okay for someone to feel disrespected almost every day at work? When the one person who should support you, your manager, is also the same person who gives you the most anxiety?

When that person is gone, you feel free and peace of mind, but when they’re back, you feel stressed and overwhelmed and anxiety that they’ll find something to blame you for.

Is it normal to be spoken down to like you are 5 and don’t know anything because you accidentally did something even though you knew it was a mistake?

Or is it normal to feel like on the list of people who work with you, there is a hierarchy and favourites are on top, scapegoats are on the bottom and you lie completely on the bottom.

Or what about when your coworkers are discussing conversations all in another language and you just know they have their own convos about things they want to do outside of work…

Is that normal? To be so excluded that people are actually surprised when you show up for work related events even though you answered multiple times that you are in fact coming?

Or some people who you work with can go a whole day without saying anything to you because they are not required to since they hardly work with you and don’t have relationship with u?

Pretty sure if having a job is that dreadful and awful to wake up to everyday especially with crippling anxiety and ADHD (time blindness) in the mornings, it’s not worth my mental health?

Because I’ve never felt so alone being surrounded by so many people before. In my whole life. Like surpassing school. Church. Moving across provinces. This job is the worst of all.

It rattles my brain that people can be so intentionally exclusive and inconsiderate. Ik everyone is going through their own ish, but the difference is I am still kind about it…

How come they can’t be? It’s probably directly correlated to their lack of a relationship to Christ, but at least just act civil. Like the intentional exclusion and snarky remarks is so unnecessary.

[im-as-mad-as-a-wax-bananna]

TW: rape

If anyone reads this I need some advice but I also want to just get it off chest in someway and this seemed the easiest

May 30th 2024

A close friend of mine. In fact my only friend had ordered me the colorpop twilight collection as a gift and was bringing it over to my house and to hang out. I opened it and was very happy. Then we went to my room to hang out cuz my mom works 3rd shift and I didn't want to wake her and my bedroom door is always shut (cuz I have a cat that the other cats in the house don't get along with because reasons we are unsure maybe her disabilities.) So we hang out in my room and he gets handsy I say no but he continues it gets to the point my pants are down and he is rubbing his.... over my.... and I wanted to cry but I couldn't I just took it silently while I prayed my cat wasn't watching. My parents room is on the other side of the wall my bed is on.....my mother is sleeping on the other side of the wall. After a while he leaves like nothing happened. I shower and just went about my day. I haven't told any one. It's happened before too at his house when it was just us 2 there hanging out he lives less then a block away from me. I never went to his house again, I thought I was safe at my house cuz some one else is always home. I'm autistic and my room is my safe space. Granted, I share a room with my younger sister. But it's my safe space. I spend all day in my room. Sitting in my bed. And now I don't feel safe in it anymore. I feel uncomfortable in my bed. My safe sheets are no longer safe. My room, my safe space is no longer safe and it is no longer my space. I haven't told anyone about what happened. Not my family, boyfriend, no one. I just went about my life like usual to everyone else. But I think about it everyday. I want to tell someone just to get it off my chest but as crazy as it is I want him to pay for what he did but I also don't want him to get in trouble. And I don't know if anyone will believe me cuz without even mentioning what he's done to me I've told my family that he makes me uncomfortable sometimes because he is touchy, pushy, and doesn't take no for answer but it gets brushed off because "he is such a sweet and polite boy and obviously has a crush on you".

My mom was SA'd by a family friend of my grandma's when she was a very very young child. And I don't know what to do about that info but when I think about what happened to me I think about that also and would she believe me more because of it? I don't know what to do.

My boyfriend is a cop in a state next to mine. And I don't know if he would see me differently or try and help.

I want to just stop being friends with the guy who did it. Block him on everything and his phone number. Never talk to him again. But I can't do that with out looking like a horrible person for just dumping a friend for "no reason" and because he lives so close I'm afraid he'll just show up to my house.

Any advice?

[sun-like-dem-bones]

Does anyone else feel like they're scraping by on basically handouts?

I know many in the US can relate that we rely on staying on our parents insurance till the cutoff at 26. I even got away with using both mine (when I had any) and my parents insurance to save money at the eye doc. Being half blind is a hugely taken-for-granted cost in life. It's still expensive no matter who's your insurer. Someone tell me an insurance plan for free exams and glasses/contacts even EXISTS.

I am so. So willing to do things in other people's names. I started making appointments for massages in my mother's name as she has a bunch of credits rolling over that she can't use. I wouldn't be getting massages at all otherwise.

I use my sister's phone number at various department stores when I had to spend the whole day looking for an adult luxury type look for a first impression luncheon at my job. Since she is a credit card member to big store chains, they occasionally have good deals only for those customers. And I just give them a "hmm let's try this number". And like, they KNOW. They just ask "insert sister's name" and I say "yes that's it!"

Having nice clothes is something I can't afford after having been laid off for two months. Let alone putting together a "look" all in one shopping trip. Usually I can only afford to thrift my clothes, which is where any sort of quality clothes from the 1990s and 2000s has ended up anyway. Being able to dress myself and slowly build my closet for less than $50 a month? A doable expense. Furniture from homegoods or Walmart? Or target when there's a sale? It'll have to do. Even if it is lightweight crap that will barely survive one apartment move. At least it won't require strong-person(s) labor cost.

I'm sure people have been sharing phone numbers for retail points for much longer than the birth of streaming subscriptions. No one is a goody two shoe about sharing services and now for most things you can't. I wonder how those van lifers even do their own.

Having room on your credit card(s) just to pay rent while you're laid off is a huge save or I would lose everything and move to another state with my mom. Probably couldn't rent again for 7 years and I could let mom watch me struggle to even get out of her hair. Look mom the system you thrive(d) in makes it impossible for me to even be independent from you! So much for empty nesting! 😜

It is an eventuality I have to accept. I don't know how often layoffs happen in the past but both times had nothing to do with my quality of work in the short span of basically about 3-4 years of corporate work? If I get laid off again this year, the state government won't help me again. I will probably sink $10k more into debt in a matter of months. And not much less than that if I got laid off in any year after this one.

I look for remote/hybrid jobs because I subtract the cost of the salary/hourly pay with the gas it takes for rush hour in a major metropolitan area. My internship was a huge help to even get me where I am today... Two hour commute, twice a day. Laid off the minute my university decided they won't require internships due to the pandemic.

Oh my god and do you know how long I can put off car maintenance!? Thankfully it's nothing serious like a check engine light or constantly having to pour more oil into a car that just eats a quart like its maple syrup every week. But I do have an axle throwing grease from like 6 months ago. It's basically no bigger an issue than a toddler burping up their spit. My tires are 6 years old now from the previous owner and the guy said the sidewall cracking is basically very slow dry rot while I have plenty of tread left. I feel like a grandma who's going to eventually hand her car down to some very appreciative grandkids. Old but low mileage and well kept up with.

Having folks that did decent for their time can be a huge privilege. Some well-doing parents are assholes and don't help at all for sure. I got a used reliable car after graduating so I could drive downtown to college and work. And it's literally a luxury nowadays to have a car as reliable as that thing for that long and for what? No car payment and therefore minimal insurance cost. Throwing 115,000 miles on it in, I dunno, 3 years? (I don't know what was more mileage, delivering pizza or commuting 80mi to and from work and college for a couple semesters) Gotta blow $600 on a new radiator or alternator here or there? Eh. Couple hood smushes from fender benders? Pff. Nuthin'

Well. Except gas.

Your boomer parents could even call it a handout to let you stay with them at a discounted rate of rent these days. Even more so if it's free as long as you're working/in school.

I wouldn't have a degree without my family's help, because, hear me out.

The government wouldn't even loan me enough to cover the cost that I couldn't afford.

Between the maximum that they would loan me, and what I could come up with working full-time summers and part time during school, LiViNg at HoMe, would only cover 2/3rds of the price of my tuition.

Frankly having to do both school and work hurt my ability to do well in actually retaining the information, and having better grades. For difficult degrees like art, architecture and really any of the sciences, I barely passed when I didn't have to work that one year. And then we decided well, you scraped by with a D in one class so you will be behind a year to take things in order. It was already unaffordable at this 5 year trajectory plan. Come home and figure something else out.

It's insane to me that so much had to happen to even get me where I am and-

I just. I feel like, you're either struggling at rock bottom, or even if you have a 401k started, some level of ability to see a doctor, like, if you're really sick bad, free coping mechanisms like massages and occasional therapy sessions, you're still barely scraping and often your needs can't be met, and rarely any wants.

I still can only afford the cheapest gym, veterinarian, sometimes even diy mechanic. The things I do have built up such as clothes, jewelry, purses, pots for some plants- they only exist from birthday gifts, dead relatives, or the time of my youth before I knew I was supposed to save my good-grade money just to have extra I dunno $3000 laying around for a month without a job??

I may have decent funds now to afford the housing cost that basically eats people, wallets, and sanity, as if it were the blue pacman eating dollars around the board and rather turning our souls INTO ghosts, but I certainly don't have enough TIME.

Like. How does anyone move up in life without free or cheap handouts?

And to think that I make the amount that my folks made individually. Which together raised 2.5 kids on, lived in a house (which was bought on 1 income), and had 2 cars and 2 dogs?

I just have me and two cats and we can't even afford van-life. Let alone an apartment by ourselves. We'd have a hurricane, a fender bender or major maintenance, a feline dental cleaning before his teeth fall out, every couple months something happens.

I don't think the middle class used to rely on handouts.

Aw crap when was the last time I saw the dentist.

[amprella]

My mind is and was occupied with relatively serious stuff and changes past 2 months. Maybe it’s time to say things out loud and get them out of the system.

Moved houses, that can be considered as a good change, that’d improve my ways of living, in a smallest sense, even… the process was tough and time consuming with painting etc but again, this was a good occupience.

And then, for about a month, im having digestive issues. And it’s going nowhere as of today. Had many tests, blood, urine, feces, X-rays, ultrasounds… all came back clean but i still have issues with stomach… which leads to either more serious shit like cancer etc or an allergy that i have been tested in the past but developed somehow later on in my life… at least the two options I can think about now.

I feel so preoccupied with thinking. And my ways, my character doesn't help with the situation. I’ve had a similar issue 4 months back, but it had a name (gastroentiridis) and it was clear what it was and could’ve been solved within a month.

Now with this new shit, nothing shows up on blood, ultrasound, X-rays, feces etc and the uncertainty is eating me up, alongside of almost bi-daily stomach pain.

Hear me out, I took precautions. Whoever knows me knows that I like to cook at home, amongst all, it serves my year long diet. I rarely order something from outside, especially when I’m alone, which is most of the times (no complaining)

I had this issue for about 2 weeks, then when it did not go away, went to doctors, did the tests etc, used antibiotics, stomach regulator drug, and after all this treatment, plus 2 weeks, today the issue seem to persist with the doctors could not have pinpoint where is and what is the rootcause of it.

And this last 2 weeks, i’ve took steps extra carefully, even bought bottled water thinking something might’ve been off with water since I don’t consume anything else that is out of ordinary from outside. Stopped alcohol altogether, for a whole week. Took my antibiotics every 12 hrs exactly, why I’m elaborating this is that I did everything by the book, and they still cant find/know what is wrong and my body cannot seem to resolve it.

Now, on top of all that, I tried to maintain my lifestyle, went to gym even with pain, or resisted the urges to my vices to eat out or drink alcohol etc, but mind-wise, I was so preoccupied with uncertainty, when I finished antibiotics and got a bit better, I relaxed a bit, but it returned today, seems like I cannot recover.

Now, being alone in a country with not many people that keeps tabs on you (life, what can you do-everyone has their own life too) ~ your mind tends to go to darker places; especially when there is uncertainty about health stuff.

And when mine did too, it thought of genetic factors, since there were no logical reasoning the tests can came up with. And those genetic factors are the family history with cancer and tumor; losing 3 of 4 uncles (one from dad’s side at around late 50s, 2 from mom’s side, at 33 and 45 years of age) , my grandma having 7 operations in various places on her body due to cancer (survivor) ~ I kind of went existentialist on this, and accepted that it could be something serious for me too.

I mentioned this to doctors too, 2 weeks back, in case she’d want further examinations for internal organs, but she had said that it was not needed (public hospitals ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) for the moment being, and I needed to check myself within a month to keep on trying to find a reason for this problem.

We’re within 2nd week of that 1 month of recovery period, and I have the issue back like the first days it seems.

I don’t know what to think about, not mentally only but also physically. Having to go through anything you do, even drinking water without a subtle and constant pain feels like long history. How tf do we take granted being healthy, and forget like we are going to be healthy forever. I guess that’s called being human.

This human is tired of thinking about uncertain health issues and dealing with physical pain and also having to maintain a social and a professional life, like everything is normal. I am worried, but not scared, worried of not knowing what I need to face with.

And I can’t stress this enough, I have made peace with the idea

If in any outcome or possibility, I know; I can adapt, accept and be okay with it. But not knowing is eating me up.

[eastsidelovers]

artist statement for photos not yet developed:

its cliche to run around taking pics of gravestones. yet i do it anyway. i take pictures of the same things over and over again.

exit signs.

yearning for loved ones.

the balance between processing emotions, grief, and running the other way. grief.

bring your loved ones closer, steal flowers from the neighbor’s, write their name in the prayer book of a god you don’t believe in. because its comforting to think you can help from where you are.

give grandma the memorial bench. its the thought that someone cared enough to, not the money and lavish treatment received. i miss her.

i miss people i never met. yet i feel my mother and father’s grief, i feel the holes in their heart, the weight of my mother’s sobs on the staircase, the night my grandfather passed.

i miss my grandma.

she’d be so proud. i’ll bring her a book. i know she loves me, she’s probably praying for me and doesn’t approve of who i really am.

but her love was infectious. it was strong. she was so proud of everything i did. i wish i had more time. i took her for granted. i still wish i could surprise her with flowers. go out for dinner with her. read her texts.

my heart starts to hurt. exit.

[rippeanuts1950-2000]

Diary of a teenage ghost Hunter

Friday June 25th 4:00 pm My bedroom)

What does a 16 year old ghost hunter do when her parents force her to move to some weird ass town in the middle of nowhere? Find the nearest book shop of course! Joking, joking. Though that is exactly what I did as soon as my parents said I could go out. Hey, don’t judge me. The bookshop was the one thing I was looking forward to about this place and let me tell you, it was worth the wait.

The place shouldn’t even be called a shop! It should be called a book armory? No, wait, that sounds weird. A book outlet? Nope, it still doesn’t work. Whatever, I’ll figure it out later. So I went to the huge bookshop that I think used to be a Barnes & Nobles that got turned into a regular bookshop. It’s nice to know I’m supporting a small business. Small meaning it’s owned by a family and not some corporate place. Like I said, the place was huge. Anyway, I went in and spent twenty minutes just gaping at everything. It was beautiful. Filled to the brim with books and really cool knick knacks at some great prices. No joke, I bought a sketch book, some pens and pencils, a journal, some decorations for my room, and some books I’ve been wanting for a while, for under $200! I’m living the dream life honestly.

While I was there, I ran into what I could only describe as a stereotypical mean girl. I did not get her name because I ran away before she could scream at me. That happens to me way more than it should. Trouble is, I don’t know if she was a ghost or not. No one else seemed to notice her and I got a few weird looks when I screamed an apology at her. Maybe I was just too loud? Well if she wasn’t a ghost at least I don’t have to deal with her at school since mom and dad finally agreed to homeschool me. I think it was a way to get me to shut up about not wanting to hide my sexuality from people even if I get bullied. I’m a proud lesbian, I’m not hiding that part of me.

No matter how hard it is.

NOPE! DON’T GO THAT ROUTE BRAIN!

But I also won’t deal with it cause it’s summertime thank goddess.

Anyway, I love my new journal! It’s so pretty and it has cute little chibi ghosts on the cover! I cannot not wait to use it for more interesting things I find at the bookshop. Oh and write stuff about my ghost hunting. That’s also why I got it.

Obviously. 

Also my new room is really cool. Mom and Dad found this huge house for surprisingly less than a million dollars and I got the top floor all to myself. Granted, there’s only three rooms up here but Mom says I can turn the second room into an art room! Isn’t that great! Now I won’t have to go outside to make something because my parents are neat freaks and they hate messes. The room I'm in currently is my bedroom and it has all my stuff in it since Dad came up here first to set everything up while Mom and I drove down here yesterday. I still need to unpack so I should probably get started. 

Saturday June 26th 1:30 am My Closet)

Holy shit.

That’s all I have to say after what has been transpiring for the past hour and half.

I knew there was a reason why my parents got the house so cheap!

Twelve people died here.

Correction, twelve people were killed here.

TWELVE PEOPLE WERE KILLED HERE!

WHAT THE FUCK!

Look, I get that my parents want me to help in the family business and hunt ghosts so that we help them go to the other side and blah blah. Especially since I’m the only one in my family since my great great grandma who can see ghosts. But moving me into a house where the souls are still haunting it and need to go to the otherside, is taking it too far!

Okay let me start from the beginning.

It all started after I woke up at midnight. I was thirsty so I went downstairs to get a glass of water. I get my glass of water and go back to my room, knowing that I probably wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. So I’m thinking about what book I’m gonna read or if I should watch tv on my phone again, when I see a very pretty girl with silky black hair and pale skin digging through my closet and muttering that I have too much flannel. Being the mature person that I am, I threw my water at her and screamed, “Begone intruder!” The girl just looked at me and smirked.

“I’m dead and I live here, so I’m not an intruder.” She said and that’s when I realized that the girl had gashes all over her body and her very cute outfit was covered in blood. “Why are you in my room?” I asked, not thinking what else to say. The girl snorted and floated over to me. “Because you, Cassandra Mendez, are going to help me and my cousins with our problem.” She said, placing her hands on my shoulders. Instead of feeling cold and uncomfortable like it usually does when a ghost touches me, it felt pleasantly icy and comforting. “Whoa, whoa. You know my name and I don’t know yours! That’s not fair.” I said, because all my brain cells left me when the pretty ghost girl touched me.

The girl giggled. “You’re right, that isn’t fair Cassandra. Let’s fix that, shall we? I’m Butterfly Thompson, nice to meet you.” Butterfly said and now that I could properly see her eyes, I noticed they were light green. “Butterfly, that’s an interesting name.” I said. “My parents were hippies, Cassandra.” She said as she let go of my shoulders. She went back to digging in my closet. “Cassie.” I said dumbly. Butterfly looked up, confused. “What?” She asked. “I go by Cassie, not Cassandra. Now can you tell me why you're here?” I asked, really hoping this whole thing was some dream.

“Cassie. I like that. Less of a mouthful. Anyway, I’m here to save you from the flannel nightmare that is your closet.” Butterfly said and I tried to ignore the way my stomach fluttered when she said my name. “You and I both know that’s not true.” I said exasperated. She hummed in response. “Oh but it could be. But unfortunately it’s not. At least not right now. I’m here because I need your help to prove that my family and I were murdered.” Butterfly said. I blinked at her. First of all, why me? Second of all, she was murdered? “How many people died and how did they die?” I asked, not sure what else to say.

Butterfly started counting on her fingers. “Twelve. They took out Blake and Bloom and their parents first. Stabbed Aunt Bria and Uncle Braxton I think, I was hiding in the closet with Burst so I don’t know. They pushed Blake and Bloom out the window, their deaths were immediate. Then they went after Blaze and Briar but Aunt Britnay and Uncle Ben fought back. Unfortunately, their battle was for naught as the killer somehow managed to strangle them before throwing Briar and Blaze out the window as well. They took a little longer than the other two to die. You know this guy had a thing for throwing kids out the window. Then they came to closet me and my brother were in. Mom and Dad fought as hard as they could but in the end they didn’t make it either. I don’t know how they were killed. The killer pulled me out of the closet first but unlike my cousins I fought back. They managed to get a couple gashes and hits on me before I was thrown out the window. My death was immediate. Burst’s wasn't. They died in the rose bushes, bleeding out because the killer stabbed him before throwing them out the window like everyone else.” Butterfly said, her voice monotone.

“Then why was the killer not caught?” I asked, because it sounded like a bunch of innocent people were brutally murdered here, no questions asked. Butterfly sighed and sat on my bed. “They were smart. They made it look like the adults committed suicide and that us kids fell off the roof. Even down to the fact that they made it look like Burst was impaled. But we know the truth.” She said, a bitter smile on face. “Where do I come in?” I asked and she grinned. “You’re gonna be homeschooled, it's summer, you can talk to all of us, and you can talk to our friends who are alive and help us! Together you can find a way to figure out who the killer is and why they did it so we can put their ass in jail.” Butterfly said excitedly.

“Wait us?” I asked, because I thought she was the only ghost here. She nodded vigorously. “Yes us, I was sent to talk to you before we bombroad you with everything.” She explained. “Let me think about this before I do anything.” I said. Butterfly nodded. “Okay, get back to me in the morning! Sleep well Cassie.” She said, giving me a hug before floating down somewhere. 

Well after writing this down, I know what to do. I have to help her. She didn’t deserve what happened to her and her family at all. Now I’m actually gonna go to bed because, damn, I'm tired.

[tinycatslay]

#12 Force of the North

Much like every two chapters of anything I write, I am okay again. Getting away from everything and moving to a new place where no one knows you is all you need to somewhat heal a relationship with your self-worth apparently. I am still waiting to hear someone say I’m too wise for my years, but I don’t think this is a monumental discovery.

I feel like I dodged a bullet by not moving to London right now.

Up north is cooler, there is space to breathe, and breaths to take while living in what I want for myself in this new chapter. Granted, I haven’t had much time for reflection (let alone to write) since we’ve just moved to Leeds about a month ago – right when my second internship started.

Everything is lovely up north.

Maybe I am just disregarding some issues, but it feels so good to not know anyone that passes by me in the street. So freeing to know I can just walk for a long time and go anywhere, take pictures of anything, make small silly mistakes out there in the world and not be recognised for it. Not overthink it. No second thoughts or comparisons lingering in the quiet breaks of each day.

It's this force of the north. A brisk summer walking from the agency to the new apartment and feeling like hearing the city. The warm buzz of people getting off from work, heading to the station. It is a wonder to be blissfully alone in the middle of crowds – and it doesn’t happen often so treasure it.

It's a positive thing, really, although tainted by the bittersweet feeling of jealousy of close friends who didn’t share my happiness when I broke the news I was moving up and getting on with my life.

Between brunch escapades – which I still can’t really afford – I think about old friends and my grandma, and how I miss the summers where I thought I was bored.

It’s going to be her birthday soon. The best person in this whole world. With more goodness in one short grey hair than all the hair in the heads of all the people I have known in my life combined. I have this longing feeling, this saudade, as if she’s not here anymore. And despite calling her every two days, I fear for my world on a day where she’s no longer here to tell me that I’m her girl. I am sending her some grape-shaped earrings through the post so she can wear them at the annual grape picking.

She tells me to let things go, and that’s the one thing I have yet to work on. I hold my emotions and thoughts too tightly at times. I can’t let go of the things that hurt me, desperately waiting for the right moment to confront whoever picked at my scars with no regard for the work it takes to clean them, patch them up, and wait for time to do its thing.

Time is doing its thing again. I can wear shorts and dresses and not be afraid of who I bump into that might make me scrape my knees.

I, too, will be a force of the north.