#i dont know. i don't even know if driving schools offer like months of one-on-one teaching. they'd make me look all this up on my own. they
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theood · 7 months ago
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Currently trying to figure out how to lightly tell my parents that I am extremely anxious to get Behind The Wheel (as in the thought makes me extremely fearful and not I'm itching to go on a 5 hour drive) and I'd really like Actual Driving Lessons from someone who's Job Is To Teach That. Not that I don't think my dad is a bad driver, but I don't really want my grandpa teaching me =_=
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comrade-meow · 3 years ago
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“If men could get pregnant,” Gloria Steinem famously said, “abortion would be a sacrament.” But we live in a new world — one wherein men can get pregnant, which has made things a little bit awkward for those fighting for abortion rights (though they refuse to acknowledge it). Today, it’s important not to exclude “men” from the abortion debate, as “men” can get pregnant too.
“Gentle reminder,” Imani Gandy tweeted last month, “it’s not only women who need abortions.” Gandy is Senior Editor of Law and Policy for Rewire News Group, once called RH Reality Check, Rewire has been focused on the abortion fight and reproductive rights since 2009. Today, they publish articles like, “Medical Students Are ‘Driving’ for Change Over Gender-Inclusive Language,” which tells the story of “Sam,” a trans-identified female whose pregnancy symptoms were, we are told, not taken seriously because she was not a “cis woman.” Rewire writer Alys Brooks concludes that “Sam’s story illustrates not only the high stakes of accurately communicating a patient’s gender and their sex assigned at birth, but also the need for health-care providers to factor those details into clinical decision-making.”
Medical students are “driving and demanding” changes to the med school curriculum that “better accounts for transgender patients,” Brooks reports. Which includes “degendering”: replacing terms like “pregnant women” with “pregnant people.”
Biology professor’s like Karen Hales, who is employed at Davidson College in North Carolina, have moved towards replacing “mother” and “father” with “egg parent” and “sperm parent.”
In truth, “Sam” had failed to inform the nurse that she was female, identifying herself as “transgender” and, even worse, her medical records showed she was a “man.”
To me, this exemplifies the false propanganda pushed by trans activists and the complicit media, constantly claiming incidents of “transphobia,” which are, in fact, simply about either people who identify as transgender being correctly sexed, or about people lying about their sex, thereby confusing the sane.
“Sam” was not treated ineffectively at the hospital because she claims to be “transgender,” but because it is imperative that medical professionals know the sex of their patients, and “Sam” had been informed by the government and trans activists that it was not only acceptable but necessary to her survival and happiness that she lie about her sex.
The notion that what is needed is to “degender” (which actually means “desex”) patients is ludicrous. Health care professionals need basic information about a patient’s biology/sex, easily communicated by using the (correct) language that already exists: female/male, woman/man, he/she. Imposing gender identity ideology on medicine and biology is clearly confusing, not clarifying, matters.
~~~
On Saturday, thousands gathered across America to protest Senate Bill 8, which was passed in Texas last month and allows people to sue anyone who helps a woman get an abortion after six weeks. While the conversation about abortion should be extended beyond the “legal” vs “illegal” one — a conversation too complex for this particular piece, but that I will say is oversimplified and limited by the notion that women should be reliant on the medical establishment in order to have autonomy over their bodies and reproductive choices — I of course disagree with a law allowing those who “help” women get abortions to be sued. But what is worse is the fact that so many of those fighting this legislation refuse to say that this is an issue affecting only women.
If you can’t understand or say that abortion only impacts women, you cannot fight effectively for abortion rights.
There is a reason men have attempted to control women’s bodies, autonomy, and reproduction all these years, and that is because of biology. ***In an evolutionary sense, men need to know if their offspring is indeed their offspring, in order to stick around. They have an evolutionary drive to spread their seed, as it were, and they don’t (again, in an evolutionary sense, perhaps not an ideal/moral one) wish to invest their time in a family that isn’t “theirs.”*** This is why men decided to keep women in the home and out of public life, gallivanting with other men who might impregnate them. If women have control over their reproductive choices, it limits men’s ability to control women and keep them dependent/in the home, tied up with baby-making/raising.
I am oversimplifying, but the point I am trying to make is that only females can get pregnant, which is why men have tried to control their bodies and lives, historically, and is the basis for women’s historic oppression.
Women were never kept in the home, their autonomy limited, because they grew their hair long, wore skirts, put lipstick on, or named themselves “Caitlin” or “Alana.” Nor have women ever been able to opt out of historical oppression by wearing pants or cutting their hair short. Their status remains vulnerable because they are biologically female. Modern, Western civilization and legislation has protected women from institutional oppression, but the fact of pregnancy still means we may be vulnerable to, well, having little control over our lives. Abortion and our ability to control if and when we get pregnant offers us some control over our life circumstances and freedom.
This all seems like basic feminist information, but has become invisibilized by trans activism and its woke disciples. At abortion rallies across the nation, trans activists insisted on disrupting what should be unequivocally woman-centered activism to remind participants that this was not just a women’s issue as “men need abortions too.” In Washington, trans-identified athlete and activist, Schuyler Bailar, said:
“This is a women’s issue, and it is also a transgender man’s issue. It is also a nonbinary person’s issue. It is also a gender queer, gender fluid, transmasculine person’s issue. This is about all of us.”
And, yes, pregnancy and therefore abortion could well affect anyone who identifies as any of these things, but that still doesn’t mean men need abortions. It just means only females will ever want to access an abortion, making Bailar’s entire statement unnecessary. Pregnancy doesn’t care how you feel about gender roles or about how you identify. The only thing that matters is your biology.
You might think it is merely “polite” or “inclusive” to discuss pregnancy and abortion in gender neutral terms, or to remind people that “men can get pregnant too,” but what you lose in doing so is massive: why this matters and is a fight in the first place. It is also, of course, embarrassing and farcical, and makes a mockery of women’s rights advocates. Who could possibly take seriously an activist (or reporter, or politician, or academic, or health authority) who demands female autonomy while also insisting that “men can become pregnant”?
Young women in particular have completely lost the history of and context for the women’s movement, and, as a result, are losing hard fought for rights. That they’ve allowed themselves to be bamboozled by a group of narcissists who have zero interest in women’s rights and are so privileged they can manage to occupy their time with academic notions of “gender,” rather than the material circumstances of their lives, is shameful, and demonstrates how thoroughly out of touch they are with the current and past real life struggles of women across the globe.
Erasing women from the fight for reproductive rights should be sacrilege, but instead it has become doctrine. Women’s rights will continue to disappear in front of our eyes so long as women continue to go along with this nonsense ideology. If you can’t even acknowledge what a woman is and what rights are particular to females, your role in this fight is a joke.
***replace evolution with class society imo***
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red-will · 4 years ago
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I don't know what to do with good white people.
I've been surrounded by good white people my whole life. Good white people living in my neighborhood, who returned our dog when he got loose; good white teachers in elementary school who pushed books into my hands; good white professors at Stanford, a Bay Area bastion of goodwhiteness, who recommended me M.F.A. programs where I met good white writers, liberal enough for a Portlandia sketch.
I should be grateful for this. Who, in generations of my family, has ever been surrounded by so many good white people? My mother was born to sharecroppers in Louisiana; she used to measure her feet with a piece of string because they could not try on shoes in the store. She tells me of a white policeman who humiliated her mother by forcing her to empty her purse on the store counter just so he could watch her few coins spiral out.
Two summers ago, my mother showed me the welfare reports written about her family. The welfare officer, a white woman, observed my family with a careful, anthropological eye. She described the children, including my mother, as "nice and clean." She asked personal questions (did my grandmother have a boyfriend?) and wrote her findings in a detached tone. She wondered why my grandmother, an illiterate Black mother of nine living in the Jim Crow South, struggled to find a steady job. Maybe, she wrote in her loopy scrawl, my grandmother wasn't searching hard enough.
This faded report is the type of official document a historian might consult if he were re-constructing the story of my family. The author, this white welfare officer, writes as if she is an objective observer, but she tells a well-worn story of Black women who refuse to work and instead depend on welfare. Occasionally, her clinical tone breaks down. Once, she notes that my mother is pretty. She probably considered herself a good white person.
In the wake of the Darren Wilson non-indictment, I've only deleted one racist Facebook friend. This friend, as barely a friend as a high school classmate can be, re-posted a rant calling rioters niggers. (She was not a good white person.) Most of my white friends have responded to recent events with empathy or outrage. Some have joined protests. Others have posted Criming While White stories, a hashtag that has been criticized for detracting from Black voices. Look at me, the hashtag screams, I know that I am privileged. I am a good white person. Join me and remind others that you are a good white person too.
Over the past two weeks, I've seen good white people congratulate themselves for deleting racist friends or debating family members or performing small acts of kindness to Black people. Sometimes I think I'd prefer racist trolling to this grade of self-aggrandizement. A racist troll is easy to dismiss. He does not think decency is enough. Sometimes I think good white people expect to be rewarded for their decency. We are not like those other white people. See how enlightened and aware we are? See how we are good?
Over the past two weeks, I have fluctuated between anger and grief. I feel surrounded by Black death. What a privilege, to concern yourself with seeming good while the rest of us want to seem worthy of life.
When my father was a young man, he was arrested at gunpoint. He was a Deputy District Attorney at the time, driving home one night from bible study when LAPD pulled him over. A traffic violation, he'd thought, until officers swarmed his car with shotguns aimed at his head. The cops refused to look in his wallet at his badge. They cuffed him and threw him on the curb.
My father is mostly thankful that he'd stayed calm. In his shock, he had done nothing. That's what he believes saved his life.
I think about this while I watch Eric Garner die. For months, I avoided the video, until we arrived at another officer non-indictment. Now I've seen the video of Garner's death, as well as a second video I find even more disturbing. This second video, taken immediately after Garner has been killed by a banned chokehold, shows officers attempting to speak to him, asking him to respond to EMTs. They do not yet know that he is dead, and there's something about this moment, officers shuffling around as an EMT seeks a pulse, that is so bafflingly and frustratingly human, so different from the five officers lunging and wrangling Garner to the ground.
In the wake of this non-indictment, a surprising coalition of detractors has emerged. Not just black and brown students hitting the streets in protest but conservative stalwarts, like Bill O'Reilly or John Boehner, criticizing the lack of justice. Even George W. Bush weighed in, calling the grand jury's decision "sad." But even though many find Garner's death wrong, others refuse to believe that race played a role. His death was the result of overzealous policing, a series of bad individual choices. It would have happened to a white guy. The same way in Cleveland, a 12-year-old Black boy named Tamir Rice was killed by officers for playing with a toy gun. An unfortunate tragedy, but not racial. Any white kid playing with a realistic-looking toy gun would have been killed too.
Darren Wilson has been unrepentant about taking Mike Brown's life. He insists he could not have done anything differently. Daniel Pantaleo has offered condolences to the Garner family, admitting that he "feels very bad" about Garner's death.
"It is never my intention to harm anyone," he said.
I don't know which is worse, the unrepentant killer or the man who insists to the end that he meant well.
A year ago, outside the Orange County airport, a white woman cut in front of me at the luggage check. She had been standing next to me, and soon as the luggage handlers called next, she swooped up her things and went to the counter. She'd cut me because I was black. Or maybe because I was young. Maybe she was running late for her flight or maybe she was just rude. She would've cut me if I had been a white woman like her. She would've cut me if I had been anyone.
Of course, the woman ended up on my flight, and of course, she was seated right next to me. Before the flight took off, she turned to me and said, "I'm sorry if I cut you earlier. I didn't see you standing there."
I often hear good white people ask why people of color must make everything about race, as if we enjoy considering racism as a motivation. I wish I never had to cycle through these small interactions and wonder: Am I overthinking? Am I just being paranoid? It's exhausting.
"It was a lot simpler in the rural South," my mother tells me. "White people let you know right away where you stood."
The problem is that you can never know someone else's intentions. And sometimes I feel like I live in a world where I'm forced to parse through the intentions of people who have no interest in knowing mine. A grand jury believed that Darren Wilson was a good officer doing his job. This same grand jury believed than an eighteen-year-old kid in a monstrous rage charged into a hailstorm of bullets toward a cop's gun.
Wilson described Michael Brown as a black brute, a demon. No one questioned Michael Brown's intentions. A stereotype does not have complex, individual motivations. A stereotype, treated as such, can be forced into whatever action we expect.
I spent a four hour flight trying not to wonder about the white woman's intentions. But why would she think about mine? She didn't even see me.
In elementary school, my older sister came home one day crying. She had learned about the Ku Klux Klan in class that day and she was afraid that men in white hoods would attack us. My father told her there was nothing to worry about.
"If a Klansman sat at this table right now," he said, "I'd laugh right in his face."
My mother tells stories of Klansmen riding at night, of how her grandmother worried when the doctor's son—a white boy—visited her youngest sister because she feared the Klan would burn down their home. When I was a child, I only saw the Klan in made-for-TV civil rights movies or on theatrical episodes of Jerry Springer. My parents knew what we would later learn, that in the nineties, in our California home, surrounded by good white people, we had more to fear than racism that announces itself.
We all want to believe in progress, in history that marches forward in a neat line, in transcended differences and growing acceptance, in how good the good white people have become. So we expect racism to appear, cartoonishly evil like a Disney villain. As if a racist cop is one who wakes in the morning, twirling his mustache and rubbing his hands together as he plots how to destroy black lives.
I don't think Darren Wilson or Daniel Pantaleo set out to kill Black men. I'm sure the cops who arrested my father meant well. But what good are your good intentions if they kill us?
When my friends and I discuss people we dislike, we often end our conversations with, "But he means well."
We always land here, because we want to affirm ourselves as fair, non-judgmental people who examine a person not only by what he does but also by what he intends to. After all, aren't all of us standing in the gap between who we are and who we try to be? Isn't it human to allow those we dislike—even those who harm us—a residence in this space as well?
"You know what? He means well," we say. We lean on this, and the phrase is so condescending, so cloyingly sweet, so hollow, that I'd almost rather anyone say anything else about me than how awful I am despite how good I intend to be.
I think about this during a car ride last weekend with my dad, where he tells me what happened once the cops finally realized they had arrested the wrong man. They picked him up from the curb, brushed him off.
"Sorry, buddy," an officer said, unlocking his handcuffs.
They'd made an honest mistake. He'd fit the description. Well, of course he did. The description is always the same. The police escorted my father onto the road. My father, not yet my father, drove all the way home without remembering to turn his headlights on.
Brit Bennett recently earned her M.F.A. in creative writing at the the Helen Zell Writers' Program at the University of Michigan. She is currently a Zell Postgraduate Fellow, where she is working on her first novel.
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yooncutiee · 5 years ago
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[Description]
I could feel my nerves pulse against my body as I tell hobi what I've been dying to avoid "shit hobi I think I'm fucking In Love with him," I whisper it out enough for hobi to hear me.
~
Genres: romance, mystery, horror,
MAIN CHARACTERS AND SHIPS: Taehyung, jungkook, jimin, suga, Namjoon, Jin, hobi.
Vkook, yoonmin, namjin.
Wattpad: yooncuteie
~
~ CHAPTER 1 ~
~ NIGHTMARE ~
~ Taehyung POV~
I could feel my nerves pulse against my body as I tell hobi what I've been dying to avoid "shit hobi I think I'm fucking In Love with him," I whisper it out enough for hobi to hear me.
Hobi takes a deep breathe in before responding " I knew you couldn't handle what you got yourself into without feeling something"
"What i got myself into?"
He scoffs "don't play dumb"
He was right. I wasn't forced into this. I wanted it. Needed it. And jungkook was nice enough to offer it to me.
"Friends with benefits isn't exactly what I was planning to have with him" I say as I gaze my eyes out the car window of a Honda Civic, that was probably as old as my great grandpa was. It took too much effort for me to roll down the window using it's almost broke off handle. for hopes of fresh clean air. The air was cool against my sweaty forehead. Sinking more into my seat I turn to look at hobi driving while his right hand rests on my left thigh.
"How do you think he feels?" He asks me while eyes clued to the road ahead of us.
"Shit if I know" I mumble in annoyance.
"Well... guess" he chuckles
I shift in my seat, glaring at the headboard "he can handle me with such care sometimes I think he might actually feel something for me other then see me as a sex toy" my hand brushes along my sleeve. I pull on a thread to calm my nerves "Sometimes I feel like I'm his whole world.."
My heart swells up with hope at my own words. Knowing a possibility of it might be true. But in this life everything comes with a price. And I'd be damned if I let myself have this much hope.
"That's good, Right?" Hobi turns to look at me with worried eyes. Hand squeezing my left thigh in hopes to comfort me.
That's when the world suddenly stops. Everything around me losing its purpose as my heartbeat slows down and all I see next is two tail lights covering my entire existence. I didn't know that night would be the beginning of my end.
                     ~ 1 year later ~
I walked around helpless in a dark forest struggling to keep my balance as I made my way down a cleared path being illuminated by the moon. My only source of light to be used. My dream I was so certain I was having right now, as I did almost every night since I stop talking my medication that's supposed to make me normal again. But it only kept me at the surface. Barley breathing, but enough to survive.
I made my way through the clear path to come up to a big tree with red leafs. The sky turned pitch black as I looked up to see the moon be covered in darkness. That was when the blood came. Flowing through the cracks of the tree branch's. As it came closer to my feet I heard the screams. His screams. They flooded my ears like the blood at my feet going higher and higher. I stopped breathing. Stopped thinking, as I was swallowed by its darkness. As I was swallowed by my end.
That's when I always wake up.
I jumped up out of my sleep from another nightmare. Sweat was dripping from my forehead. "Damn it!" I cuss under my breath.
I pull my covers away and stumble my way to the bathroom located in the corner of my room. I switch the lights on and stare at my reflection.
I looked like shit. Felt like it too.
I turn the water faucet on to fill my hands with water and splash it on my face. rubbing my eyes harshly in hopes it wakes me up more. Deciding to reach out to open a small box laying out on the counter for easy access. taking out my prescription of medication that keeps the bad thoughts away.
But the bad thoughts never go away.
I get out two pills and pop them into my mouth and swallowed them dry. going back to my room and reaching for my phone on the night stand.
the time was 3:25 am. I suddenly had that sick feeling of dread. Too nervous to sleep alone tonight I swipe up on my phone and press a number on my contact listed as "kookie"
Will he even answer?
I hear four buzzing sounds on the other end as I wait for jungkook to pick up.
"Hello?" He sounds worried.
I hesitate at first but mange to say
"Hey kookie I need you"
He goes silent on the other line for what feels like hours but was only 10 seconds.
"O-okay tae I'll be there in....Like 10 minutes" stumbling over his words as if he is drunk.
I wouldn't be surprised if he was. Maybe at some club having a fuck or a drink to drown himself in.
I start to hear loud noises in the back and music bumping loudly on the other side of the phone. and already know one of my suspicions was right.
He breathes down the other line as a low voice comes through "dont you dare do anything stupid, I'll be there just hang tight" he waits for my response.
"I promise kookie I won't.. just come" I bite down on my lip to calm myself down. He hangs up the phone after my response. I put my phone back on the night stand and lay in bed waiting for him.
After a year of the accident we haven't made any process on our "friends with benefits" relationship. I shut down completely and never confessed my feelings. Telling him I needed time. He waited for me but not long enough. Half a year he waited before he went back to his old habits. I couldn't blame him. I was too broken for even him to fix.
Still no matter what, he was always there for me. like a security blanket. He was my security blanket.
After my many failed attempts of ending my life he was extra careful with me. Never leaving my sight.
He was the only one to understand me. He knew what I was going through because he too was going through it. He was one of the cars that crashed into us. The others were a hit and run. It broke me when I and jungkook were the only survivors. hobi had been my best friend since the first grade. He was family. Now he was gone.
Jungkook had became the closest thing I had to a best friend after hobi.
The others were fucked up by everything that we all drifted apart.
Jimin was absolutely devastated when hobi died. Fuck! We all were. But jimin was with him for 2 whole years. Planning a whole life together. That hits different.
Jin graduated that year and left never looking back. His brother was everything to him. Their mom took her own life after she was left alone, grieving her dead son while her cheating husband who left her for a young slut not even a month after his sons death. Maybe he thought she could fill the void he that hobi left in him.
Namjoon drowned himself in school work. Never batting an eye to us. Said he was too busy. Needed to work on his future and not worry about the dead.
Yoongi was... well he fell off the face of the earth. I pass him by through the halls but nothing more
We all lost something that night of the accident. Some more then others.
Breathing in a big gulp of air I hear a small knock on my window door. A smile spreads on my lips as I get up to open my window. Jungkook jumps over and into my room. There was a black framed full sized bed in the middle of the room, a night stand beside it and a small desk with a bookshelf. Quite small and messy but comfortable.
Jungkook grabs my waist while he stares me down "how are you?" He breathes out. Making sure to be quiet so my parents don't hear.
"I'm okay just tired" saying as I rub his forearm with my thumb.
"Any bad thoughts?" He grab my face in his hand to lift my eyes to his.
"No... not as bad as usual" I managed to say without choking back a sob. My eyes were getting watery and my head felt intense pressure. I bite my lip to calm myself down again.
This Shit happens everytime!
He puts his forehead to mine for a few seconds before speaking and wipes awaya tear waiting to fall from my eye. "hey- it's okay if you did, I'm here now"
I smile at his response, feeling a jolt of love and affection as always "thank you kookie"
"Today I was thinking of him... today" he sounded in pain and regret.
"Oh.." I decided not to pursue jungkook into talking more about it. I didn't want to think about. Didn't want to feel it anymore.
I was stuck. Always stuck.
He sighs against my face, only inches apart. He lends back, eyes moving to my bed. He tugs at my arm and lends me to the bed
"well let's sleep then?" Pulling the sheets away to make room for us. I sink into the bed while he makes his way in a position to spoon me.
I will never get tired of this.
His warmth. His breathe against my neck as he hugs me close. My heartbeat stays calm for now.
"I w- wish I could have done more that night" he says against my ear as he plays with my hair.
"The night of the accident?" I ask confused.
"Yes... I just-"
I grab hold of his hand that wraps around me and lock it in mine "it's okay kookie you couldn't have done more, it's not your fault"
"Okay" he lends deeper into my neck
"You won't have anymore nightmares with me" he whispers against my skin.
Feeling calm and secure in jungkook's arms, I hum a response as I fall in a deep sleep.
But the nightmares never go away because they are my reality.
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softtangent · 2 years ago
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Today the sadness is less. Or maybe it's just taken a seat further back from the front row of the screen, not crying as uncontrollably loudly over the movie as yesterday. Maybe that's the way it's been all this time, just different feelings playing musical chairs, sitting closer or further back in their private movie theater behind my eyes. Or is it the theater through the half translucent mirror behind the first one behind my eyes? I don't know.
I don't know. I used to spend time with someone who was supposed to be a friend but I really knew was not a friend- he would tell me to stop saying that and say 'yes, you do know'. It would drive me mad. Everyone always seems so obsessed with knowing. He would tell me about how my words manifest my reality and despite letting him know I consider this carefully, he'd still throw his ideology at me believing he knew how I should live. If only I'd follow instruction, I could have the things I want. But that couldn't have been true at that time, because I did not know what I wanted, not consciously anyways. I was only keenly aware of what I didn't want- which was for him to tell me what to do. Perceived authority figures, I can't stand 'em. Why should I care to know? So I can show everyone else that I've got it all under control?
' Dont worry, I know '
The truth is I don't and I don't know if I'd want that responsibility anyways, too many damn moving pieces.
I mean, I feel the truth in the statement that I am creating my reality- but to say that I know is a whole other thing all together. The word feels like closing a door to me that I'd much rather keep open, just a crack even.
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Maybe this is where I start to feel more spacious- where I end up fumbling with knowing, belief, truth and understanding, as a child does with wooden blocks as they learn to build.
Understanding feels soft to me at times, like a gentle acceptance of the feelings our body offers up in response to an experience, a conversation, a telling. I remember various school teachers saying to me that being able to explain or teach something back to someone is the sign of understanding. But this doesn't feel quite right, that is a game of words, of proof and aimed perception.
'To stand in the midst of...'
When I go to the bathroom I reach my hand down to the side where she would sometimes lay on the cool fake flooring next to the toilet. A consistent go to at almost every residence. Likely enjoying the cold from the water flowing into the base of the toilets, maybe some refreshing condensation when the temperature differential was too great. I guiltily pretend to pet her head, imagining the vibration of her purr in the palm of my hand. Those imaginings are real, I think- but I am imagining them for my comfort. I am raw and sad. The skin under my eyes is pinkish from the torrents flowing from them at understandable but unpredictable intervals.
Last night I finished reading Catcher in the Rye for the first time all the way through. A classmate had loaned it to me in high school in freshman English along with Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I read Hunter Thompson's book but let Salinger's sit in my collection until now. Of all the books that got lost in all my moves over the years I wonder to myself why this one made it through. Maybe because I said I would read it. And now I have, what, 14 years later? I think I will maybe try to find the girl who gave it to me, out of curiosity for who she is now and maybe some small sack of nostalgia.
When I first started reading the book a month ago I wasn't sure if I was in to it- Holden Caulfield's voice felt aggravating and as he would say, 'phony' , to me at first. But, soon, I found myself in him, especially my teenage self, who felt extraordinarily jaded with what modern life was offering to me. There is a commitment to a type of honesty that I feel understood in and his understanding of the never ending pivot is deeply relieving. As is his short hashed together plans of ditching his home in New York City to go live on the land simply and marry and all that sweetness.
I have this memory of being told that the book is about a boy who runs away, but maybe that's something I told myself, as when I 'borrowed' it, it would have been shortly after I myself had run away and come back.
In a few hours an old friend will call- knowing that, I find myself feeling suddenly tired. Maybe because I know the rehashing of the events of the past day will involve feeling it all again. The tracing of the edges of a newly formed opening where something once existed and now does not, at least not in a way that I can see without actively imagining.
Eventually, I will clean up the two bowls of food in the front room. The water bowl as well. The empty litter box. Pick up the blanket off the carpet that will either need to be thrown out or deep cleaned.
God, I am so sad.
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clumsyclifford · 3 years ago
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hello!! i am back and on desktop this time. the blog is just as pretty. alex + yellow = v v attractive jfc. this is a long one so buckle in.
to begin: i hope you have the most fun on your day road trip and sing your heart out to atl and taylor swift. i love driving long distances and idk just driving in general is fun. have the absolute best time MWAH
my birthday is in november!! november 23 to be specific. i share it with miley cyrus which is something i always found to be very cool when i was growing up and watching hannah montana. it also means i am a sagittarius and funny little fact i realized is that my best friend is a gemini. alex and jack are also a sagittarius and a gemini. from being 13 i know that tyler and josh from twenty one pilots are also a sagittarius and a gemini. something about sagittarius and gemini besties idk.
also yeah!! ao3 year in review!! it's a bit complicated to figure out at first and if you read a lot the finding pages thing can be pretty tedious, but it's def worth it once you figure it out. it gives you a lot of different stats about everything you read and it's pretty cool. now i am going to go look at your fics to remember my favs. you deserve the praise so i am willing to offer it. jeez you write a lot i respect the motivation sm. you write quite a bit of angst and i won't lie i try to stay away from angst so i haven't read your fics that seem super angst-y based on the tags. BUT there are still so many i recall reading and loving nonetheless. on a quick scroll-through: i usually don't read high school AUs but "paint me in trust (i'll be your best friend)" was super adorable and lovely. "thank god i'm yours" is one of my favs iirc. also i love love love "it's not always easy (but i'm here forever)" like yes please romanticize alex gaskarth i love it sm. "i won't be silent (and i won't let go)" and "i fell asleep in a city that doesn't" are both super fluffy and romantic and are favs of mine. in case you haven't picked up on it i adore very fluffy and romantic fics lmao. alright i am continuing to scroll and there are so many more i could list that i love but this section is getting quite long. just know if it's about a kitchen or hotel rooms being for lovers i probably read it and adored it and that pov is so valid.
waterparks!! will not lie i only really started listening to them about 6 months ago having been distantly aware of their existence for several years by being a fan of bands in the same genre. listen as long as you let yourself be vaguely annoyed by awsten is prevents you from being in love with him. follow him on any social media platform for like a day and you'll be sick of him typing in nothing but all caps within hours. simply do not romanticize him and you can keep yourself from falling!! so this is coming from a slightly fake parx fan, but some of my favs by them have been peach (lobotomy), crave, numb, fuzzy, violet!, you'd be paranoid too, and lowkey as hell. that is a very songs-from-their-most-recent-album-heavy rec, but whatever. i did give the disclaimer about being a fake parx fan.
yeah hayley does have 2 solo albums now!! petals for armor and flowers for vases / descansos. pfa is the one i didn't really like upon first listen but has grown on me. i haven't even listened to the second one in its entirety oops but we won't mention it. dead horse is good but simmer (pretty sure that was the other single??) just ain't it for me. the album has some lovely songs but it's just a hit or miss album all the way through. some favs of mine on it include pure love, taken, crystal clear, watch me while i bloom, and why we ever. it's sorta a storyline album about healing if that adds anything to it?? but anyways. i started listening to paramore around the time after laughter dropped and it grew to be one of my fav albums in existence. idle worship is probably one of my fav songs like ever. i def understand being slightly put off by bands with songs that make religious references (me with twenty one pilots' earlier music that makes a lot more religious references considering i'm not religious whatsoever) but i think i am blinded by being in love with hayley williams and just ignore it. idk that she's like super religious?? she's addressed believing in god and stuff a few times but she's def not the "rub it in your face" type and if she's making refs in music more recently then they're subtle enough i'm not noticing them. ik albums like brand new eyes had a lot more because it was shortly after that the band split and the songwriting process was essentially her and ex-bandmate co-songwriter arguing about their religious beliefs (turns out he ended up being super homophobic and transphobic all based on his religion so do with that what u will and thank the clown for leaving). i feel u on the "i meant to start listening to them" because that's essentially how i started listening to them. i told myself i was going to and then finally forced myself to do it. fuck falling for awsten knight what's more risky is falling in love with hayley </3
also yeah!! you've articulated my feelings towards tde. every song is so vastly different that it's hard to like it all. #1 fan is pretty decent though, and that's not just my bias about finding both ross and his gf hot and a cute couple and getting to see them together and ross half naked in a mirror in the video nope not at all. he's my fav himbo!! he has no personality!! no thoughts head empty!! i still love him and his strawberry-growing saga on twitter tho <3 the hazard of being in love with ross lynch since i was 12. girlfriend better be a fucking banger and there's quite a few already released singles in the tracklist so i have hope. i believe my show is in chicago on november 19 which is a thursday. kinda sucks since i intentionally bought the chicago tix nearly two years ago (the show was originally supposed to be april 25 2020. lol.) because the show was on a saturday and i have to drive 3 hours to get there. obviously i can't speak for them as tde but r5 shows always fucking slapped and i can vouch for them (realized i haven't seem them live since 2016?? 5 YEARS?? wtf) so if u genuinely like them. would recommend going to see them.
anyways. i have not listened to luke's solo album yet. i plan on it. this has gotten so long but i tried to respond in all areas and even organized it in different paragraphs this time (thanks being on desktop!!). hope you are well. hope you have a lovely day. hmm what's a little "going on in my life" fact. i got new glasses a few days ago and my eyes essentially said fuck off because adjusting to the new prescription has left me with eyes that hurt and occasionally slightly nauseous. here is to hoping my eyes get their shit together. mwah LOVE YOU TOO - the other bella/cubs anon/idk
okay hi hello. i have put this off because holy hell it's long but let's do it. i am putting a cut because this whole thing is long even without my answer
first: the road trip was super fun thank you!!! i am intrigued by this information regarding sags and geminis, we should do some scientific inquiry. enquiry. i don't know if there's a difference between those words.
aha! well i tried the ao3 year in review thing and i would say it had about 55% accuracy but still i agree it's fun to look back at that kind of stuff. and i feel you on the angst thing i go through phases of writing angst-heavy stuff and then writing very fluffy stuff and it is entirely based on my mental state buuuut i have lots of fluff and i'm glad you found it all and that you liked it yay <333 KITCHENS ARE FOR LOVERS i will die on that fuckin hill. hotel rooms as well but primarily kitchens.
dfgjhgdlfkhgdfmj honestly i dont use twitter enough that i would see his tweets enough that that would bother me also the fact that he tweets in all caps means that i just picture him yelling everything he tweets which i find absolutely hysterical so i don't think that would help. i have added these parx songs to my listen asap playlist and will get to them when i get a chance thank you i am excited also i already know lowkey as hell and it slaps super hard so im very much lookin forward to the rest of these. merci merci
YEAH simmer was the one i didnt vibe with. and honestly i feel zero compulsion to get into hayley williams as a solo artist. i just don't vibe enough to want to do that so i doubt i'll be listening to her anytime soon but maybe if i hear the songs in passing or get super bored one night, idk who can really say. but yeah christianity typically puts me off of music (speaking as a very jewish bitch) although there are notable exceptions in the cases of thomas rhett and the driver era. i'm just not attached to hayley enough to be like ehhh this doesnt matter. does that make sense
FAVORITE HIMBO PLEASE HGSDFGDFGKLFGJ i dont follow him on twitter but i have seen some interviews of ross and rocky and tbh they're great i love the way ross speaks like i like his speech mannerisms and i like his FACE and HAIR and. yeah. i think hes pretty. and i think he and 5sos SHOULD collab i think that would be sexy as hell. can you imagine that. oh my god can you imagine a ross lynch/luke hemmings collab. i'm not even really talking to you anymore bella because i know you haven't listened to luke yet and don't have a stake in it but if anyone else is reading this long ass answer. ross & luke collab. okay im going to move on and not think about that now. but i probably won't see tde unless i get a job this semester because i'm trying to stop spending so much money on big indulgent things like concerts likeee i was in a really good habit of not spending that much and then suddenly i got paid for one summer and i was just goin Crazy and i need to dial it back. plus i wanna see ajr and noah kahan equally bad so like. i have to make some calls about priorities here. it's Much to think about
good luck to your eyes i'm sure your new glasses are hella cute tho!!! LOVE YOUUUUUUU
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viraljournalist · 5 years ago
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Ten NBA things I like and don't like, including the Luka Doncic-Dwight Powell dance
New Post has been published on https://viraljournalist.com/ten-nba-things-i-like-and-dont-like-including-the-luka-doncic-dwight-powell-dance/
Ten NBA things I like and don't like, including the Luka Doncic-Dwight Powell dance
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How about a fresh serving of 10 NBA things:
1. The tricks of Ja Morant
Morant’s athleticism and fearlessness strike you first. He is so fast. He wants to dunk on everyone — to humiliate victims, the bigger the better.
All that is cool. But what is most impressive about Morant — the runaway Rookie of the Year — is his veteran craft. He already knows how to start and stop with a live dribble, and keep defenses guessing until the best option reveals itself. He sees every pass. He imagines passes no one else sees, and conjures them with dribble moves designed to shift the defense in some specific way.
You just don’t see rookies doing stuff like this:
That fake spin — the Smitty — dusts damn near the entire LA Clippers team. The one-handed lefty gather into a reverse layup is borderline pornographic. That insta-gather is already a Morant trademark — useful in tight spaces.
He has a mean pass fake:
He busts it out on the perimeter to freeze help defenders:
A lot of ball handlers turn statuesque when someone else takes the controls. Not Morant. He weaponizes his speed as an off-ball cutter.
Morant isn’t the only reason the Memphis Grizzlies — 13-6 since early December — have improbably surged into the Western Conference’s No. 8 spot. Their three core big men — Jonas Valanciunas, Jaren Jackson Jr. and Brandon Clarke — are balling, and their bizarro bench is obliterating opponents.
But Morant is driving it. He is real. He is a superstar in the making playing winning basketball. He belongs at the edges of the All-Star conversation right now.
2. Drivin’ De’Aaron Fox
After two months of injuries and uneven play, Fox is back on his ascent toward becoming the Sacramento Kings’ franchise point guard. In seven January games, Fox is averaging 24 points and 8.5 assists on 50% shooting. He is driving more often, with more guile and ferocity.
Fox is earning seven free throws per 36 minutes — easily a career high. He is piling up almost 29 drives per 100 possessions, second among rotation players — and up from 15 and 18 in his prior two seasons, per Second Spectrum data. He has drawn fouls on 13% of those drives, 16th highest among 173 guys who have recorded at least 100 drives.
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Fox is still searching for the right pass-or-score balance, and the Kings under Luke Walton haven’t landed on a coherent identity. (Injuries to Fox and Marvin Bagley III have stalled progress there.) They are playing at one of the league’s slowest paces, though they amp it up some with Fox on the floor.
The next step for Fox is dialing in on defense, where he has disappointed this season. The Kings won’t go anywhere too serious until the Fox/Buddy Hield backcourt proves it can survive on that end.
3. Forfeiting mismatches
A pet peeve:
This isn’t about the Orlando Magic. Every team does this now and then: Spot a juicy mismatch, and default into a pick-and-roll that allows the defense to switch that mismatch away.
The Utah Jazz are stuck with Emmanuel Mudiay on Aaron Gordon. If you want to post Gordon up, do it when he can mash a smaller dude. Instead, D.J. Augustin and Gordon gift the Jazz a switch.
Come on. Disengage autopilot and read the game. The right kind of post-up can still be an effective scoring option. They also are fun to watch. The league needs stylistic diversity.
You know who rarely bungles this? The Indiana Pacers with Domantas Sabonis. Their old-school mentality serves them well when they earn a switch, or when the opposing power forward is stuck defending Sabonis. The Pacers in those scenarios are ruthless. They are surgical. They abort whatever plan they had and hunt that mismatch.
4. Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, off the glass
The notorious S.G.A. is already one of the league’s shiftiest ball handlers — a long-limbed, change-of-pace phantom who seems to move at two or three different speeds at once. Guarding him is like trying to catch a fish with your bare hands.
He also is a premier bank shot artist, smooching from unconventional angles:
That is a little close to the baseline for most players to go glass. Gilgeous-Alexander has the touch to pull it off. That one hits pretty low on the backboard, but Gilgeous-Alexander will kiss the ball off the tippy-top if need be.
The straight-on banker is underused — a tricky work of depth perception that can increase your margin for error on harried floaters. Gilgeous-Alexander has it in his bag:
Only 10 players have attempted more glassers than Gilgeous-Alexander, per Second Spectrum. (Russell Westbrook has tried by far the most — almost double the No. 2 guy.) Coming off a ridiculous 20-20-10 game, Gilgeous-Alexander has a fringe All-Star case: 20 points, six rebounds and three assists per game, decent shooting, solid defense.
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It is a hard case to parse. Each member of Oklahoma City’s three-headed point guard monster has sacrificed something. Gilgeous-Alexander has stepped back into a secondary ballhandling role behind Chris Paul (probably a better All-Star candidate) and Dennis Schroder (in the running for Sixth Man of the Year). Gilgeous-Alexander has logged only 40 minutes as solo floor general — without either Schroder or Paul.
I recently debated with a few non-Thunder executives whether Gilgeous-Alexander would grow into an All-NBA player. That they framed the question in those terms — and not around whether Gilgeous-Alexander will make All-Star teams — is indicative of how good he has been.
5. Still waiting on Aaron Gordon
Boy, did Gordon need this recent mini-hot streak: 60 points on 23-of-39 shooting over Orlando’s last three outings, and a last-second game-winner Monday in Sacramento. It has otherwise been a stilted, disappointing season for Gordon.
I thought this was the year it might finally happen for him. I predicted Gordon would make the All-Star Game.
Instead, Gordon’s production on offense has dipped across the board, though he remains engaged on the other end. There are three theoretical Gordons: the player Gordon wants to be; the player Orlando wants him to be; and the player Orlando needs him to be because of their roster construction. The actual Gordon is paralyzed in some sort of existential tension between all three.
The first player — Gordon’s dream for himself — is a ball-dominant scorer. Orlando indulges that Gordon by calling occasional post-ups for him and giving him some freedom to go rogue. Gordon can make hay against smaller players. He has done well on scripted duck-ins. But too many of his forays into would-be stardom end with bricked fadeaways:
A player this powerful should not spend so much time spinning away from the hoop. He rarely draws fouls. The Magic have scored 0.826 points per possession anytime Gordon shoots out of a post-up or passes to a teammate who fires right away — 74th among 96 players who have recorded at least 25 post-ups, per Second Spectrum data. He is not much of an inside-out playmaker. A full 77% of those post-ups have ended with Gordon shooting — the second highest such rate in that sample.
The best version of Gordon on a good team is something like his take on Draymond Green: screening and rolling as a power forward, spraying passes (Gordon is an underrated playmaker), defending like all hell across every position. The Magic have never put Gordon in optimal position to find that role. They shoehorned him onto the wing next to Serge Ibaka and now Jonathan Isaac.
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That is not on its face unworkable. Some of those ultra-big Magic lineups have performed well — including last season. Talented frontcourt partners render positional designations irrelevant. What position would Gordon play next to, say, Kevin Durant and a traditional center in Brooklyn? Isaac has some blossoming all-around skill on offense.
But Isaac also is very young. Before Isaac’s injury, it felt — from the outside — Orlando was reaching the point at which it would have to make a final call on Gordon. There are teams who would give a lot for Gordon. Isaac’s knee injury may have put off those decisions. The Magic don’t have to rush. Gordon is still just 24.
But stasis often becomes untenable.
6. The Bucks, going under
Almost every team scurries under picks against bad shooters, but Milwaukee does it more dramatically and against many more players. The Bucks treat every so-so shooter like Ben Simmons. Present Milwaukee with Kris Dunn or RJ Barrett (two recent examples) and its on-ball defenders hang almost in the paint — a step or two further back than most teams prefer. They form a shell that is really hard to puncture.
They don’t deviate if some Dunn type hits a couple of long 2s. The Bucks understand math. They know their scheme plays mind games with opposing shooters — even non-terrible ones. They’re going so far under. This is embarrassing. Am I really supposed to keep shooting? Boom — the shot clock is down to 8, and you’ve accomplished nothing.
This is such low-hanging fruit. Every team should imitate Mike Budenholzer’s exaggerated “go under” ethos.
Of course, later playoff rounds offer very few awful shooters — and almost none beyond Simmons who handle the ball. It would be interesting to see Milwaukee’s approach in a series against the Miami Heat and Jimmy Butler — shooting just 27% from deep this season and 36% for his career on long 2s.
7. When young guys forget who is guarding them, Part I
Oh, Jordan Poole.
That’s Kawhi Leonard. At his apex, the mere act of possessing the ball within a 15-foot radius of Leonard was dangerous for anyone outside the league’s most deft point guards. Forget dribbling. Poor saps held the ball close to their chest — terror sweat pouring from their brow, eyes darting in search of some passing target — until Leonard would simply reach out and take it. It was cruel. It was bullying.
Leonard isn’t the same impenetrable wall today, and he saves his best stuff for high-leverage playoff moments. But you can’t be Jordan freaking Poole and dangle the ball in front of him. This is like living next door to Thomas Crown, buying a masterwork, and leaving your front door wide open all night. What do you think is going to happen?
There has been much fretting of late about the Clippers’ underwhelming performances against the dregs of the league. Meh. One of Leonard and Paul George has missed most of those games. Wake me up when the real Clippers struggle.
The Clippers also seem like a mortal lock to make a win-now trade. They have use-it-or-kinda-lose-it assets ticking toward evaporation. They can trade their 2020 first-round pick, but that is the last one they can move (as things stand now) before their 2028 selection. They have Maurice Harkless’ $11 million expiring contract, and a few semi-expendable midsized salaries.
The Clippers would rather add talent (via in-season free agency) without trading anything. Harkless is solid — a starter most of the season. That 2020 pick represents one of LA’s only means of acquiring a young player who might help Leonard and George as they age.
But the Clippers are all-in. George and Leonard can hit free agency in 18 months. They should prioritize this year over everything.
Part II of young guys failing to respect their elders is coming next week.
8. Respect the Mavs’ other big men
I never got the mostly quashed rumblings Dallas might be interested in Andre Drummond. Kristaps Porzingis should eventually play more as the Mavs’ lone big man, and in the meantime, Maxi Kleber and Dwight Powell are doing just fine alongside him.
Skeptics in the preseason perceived the Mavs roster as top heavy: two stars and a motley crew of bench guys. It’s true (it’s damn true!) Dallas does not have anyone like a third member of past championship Big 3s. But they do have (by my count) seven guys you might describe as quality fifth starters — seven fifth-best players, all but one (Tim Hardaway Jr.) on value contracts. There is power in giving zero minutes to below-average players.
Powell has always been a dangerous rim-runner, but he has exploded as Luka Doncic’s go-to pick-and-roll dance partner. Only three player pairs have teamed up on that play more often. (For trivia purposes, the top three in volume: Spencer Dinwiddie/Jarrett Allen, Damian Lillard/Hassan Whiteside, and the Lou Williams/Montrezl Harrell symphony.)
The Mavs average a ginormous 1.18 points per possession anytime Doncic or Powell shoots out of the pick-and-roll, or passes to a teammate who launches — ninth-best among 226 duos who have run at least 100 such plays, per Second Spectrum.
Powell has improved as a passer on the move — crucial when teams trap Doncic:
Kleber does a little of everything. He’s a serviceable screen-and-dive guy. He is hitting 41% from deep on a career-high attempt rate, and he makes canny plays off the bounce when defenses rush at him:
Kleber is a sturdy, smart defender across multiple positions. Rick Carlisle has trusted him to guard extra-large ball-handlers, including LeBron, Giannis Antetokounmpo, and Simmons. He’s a solid rim protector with some hops.
Dallas is starting Kleber and Powell in the absence of Porzingis, and the Mavs have outscored opponents by 13 points per 100 possessions with both on the floor.
Kleber and Powell earn $18 million combined this season — $9 million less than Drummond. Drummond holds a much-discussed player option for 2020-21. Kleber and Powell are under contract through 2023. Leaving aside money and whatever assets Detroit might demand, it’s unclear whether giving Kleber/Powell minutes to Drummond would even make Dallas any better.
9. Miami is one player away, but who?
This is a minor quibble considering the Heat are 28-12 and a robust 10-6 against teams at .500 or better. Maybe the “one player” is Justise Winslow, who is still out with a back injury after returning for a single game last week.
Winslow is (in theory) the well-rounded small-ball power forward to unlock lineups featuring Bam Adebayo at center. Meyers Leonard is shooting 45% from deep as Miami’s nominal starting center, but there are lots of games in which he never sees the floor after his first stint in each half. Kelly Olynyk is barely playing.
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Right now, Derrick Jones Jr. and James Johnson are holding down that Winslow slot. Johnson looks feisty after a long stint in Heat purgatory. He’s 10-of-20 on 3s. But his jumper is unreliable, and he is regaining the team’s trust.
Jones has taken the lion’s share of these minutes over the last month. His arms are everywhere. He is the keystone of Miami’s zone defense. Lineups with Jones and Adebayo at power forward and center have done well.
But are you trusting Jones to close playoff games? He’s shooting 23% from deep. Defenses ignore him on the perimeter to muck up Miami’s spacing.
Miami has tried to solve the equation at times by going super-small, with Jimmy Butler at power forward. That is a little too small. Adebayo is so strong and athletic, you forget he’s only 6-9. Miami has been a middle-of-the-pack defensive team after a stingy start. They have to be careful.
They are one player away from being really dangerous. They know. They are looking, sources say. A lot of speculation about the Heat — and other teams — has centered around Jrue Holiday. He’s good. The Pelicans may opt to keep him and push for the No. 8 seed. (This is what suitors expect as of now — which could of course change.)
But I wonder if Miami has a more pressing need for a stretch power forward with some defensive chops to fill that Winslow/Jones/Johnson slot. (Winslow returning to form could render this moot.) Danilo Gallinari would be a worthy rental, but the Thunder might be too good to trade him. It’s also unclear whether Miami has any appetite for surrendering any players who are or could be (i.e., Winslow) key parts of their current rotation.
Regardless, keep an eye on Miami.
10. Marcus Smart is coming at you
What in the hell is this?
I’ve seen defenders close out low to distract shooters, but they usually resemble football tacklers. They aim for the stomach. I’m not sure I’ve seen anyone crouch toward the shooter’s foot. Smart looks like he’s trying to pick something up off the floor.
I honestly don’t know how anyone shoots 3s against Boston without worrying what kind of goofy closeout awaits. Jaylen Brown jumps straight up and down with all his might, and reaches both arms as high as he can — a technique Al Horford mastered, and something the Celtics teach. Brace for that, and Smart comes nipping at your ankles.
What’s next? Jayson Tatum running at shooters, screaming gibberish and waving his arms? Kemba Walker experimenting with some kind of drop-and-roll technique?
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booksbroadwaybbc · 6 years ago
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Don't know what to do with myself. via /r/selfimprovement
Don't know what to do with myself.
Hi. I'm 21 and still in community college, but I did get my provisional admission to this university I wanted to transfer to. I work as a runner at Din Tai Fung and I'm supposed to make bank, but I don't really know yet because I'm a new employee. Headtitle question at the bottom
I think I've lived an okay-ish life, kind of. story time, skip to the end if you dont wanna read it I come from a Korean family, can't say I remember much of my childhood except mostly being beaten and yelled at. There were good times too, but they usually ended prettily shittily. Moved around a bunch, went to a lot of schools. I've dealt with a lot of abusive stuff from both parents, but I'm not going to talk about my mom because things have gotten better and she's still here for me(?). For some extreme stuff- my dad broke my brothers toes in elementary school. In my senior year, he threatened me at knifepoint and forced it into my hands and told me to stab my brother or he would stab me. Beatings from him were pretty bad, and it's not just belts and sticks bad. I played co-ed baseball in 5th grade, so bam, there was that too. He liked to throw chairs and literally flip tables when he was angry (hes a private construction worker, so he's pretty strong). Broke a lot of his phones throwing them at us, the wall, the floor, whatever. Ive had a lot of problems with my social affairs in highschool- anxiety, being cold, being short tempered, aggressive, violent, sharp tongued. I started warming up in senior year because of this girl I dated, which was a pretty big deal because gays are not allowed in this household. And well, im bi but its the same thing to them. Can't say that went too well, because my brother found out and blackmailed me in the situation we were living in. But who cares, because siblings hate each other right? Anyways, broke up with her, broke her heart, treated her poorly and whatever two years later we made up and was able to be friends again. Back to dad- he was usually never around for things like elementary grad, middle school grad, and highschool- my mom made him come, but he sure didn't seem happy about it. In highschool, he only laid down on his phone playi ng his shitty phone games. Doesnt talk to me, doesnt talk to my brother, doesnt talk to my mom. His routine: wake up, go to work, come home, phone games, eat, phone games, sleep. If you try to talk to him, he ignores you. If you press it, he'll give you some boring answer like "go away already".
Anywho, that abusive fuck was caught cheating. Had an affair with a client's sister. Sold the house we lived in, mom moved to Newark, him to San Leandro. Mom didnt want to deal with me, so I got the boot and lived wjth acquaintances in Hayward. Couldnt afford it, so mom told me to move to San Leandro with him. I moved in with my best friend helping me and we saw the evidence. Bambam, hello lady clothing and shit. I went apeshit nuts and he tried to convince me, then threatened that I would be in big trouble if i said anything. (Parents were separated but not divorced). Alright, ill keep my big mouth shut.
I worked for his "girlfriend" at her cafe in Berkeley. Why? Well, it was easy money and i needed it to keep up with my shitty coping habits- partying and party favors, mostly e. You dont have to deal with stress if youre always out partying.
Anywho, fast forward, skip a lot of details. Mom gets a phone call one day from mutual acquaintance saying dad is sick and asks her to bring him some food. Alright. So she does because she still cares, and finds out the truth. Calls me and demands me to come right now and unlock the door- note that this is a 40 minute drive. By the time i get there, theres hella police and a window is broken and theres hella shit going on. Things settled down but being my immature ass i scream at my parents for both being immature, and they shouldve just cut things clean. I yell at my dad for being a fuckhead and cheating, you didnt raise a liar but you are one. I yell at my mom for being irresponsible and breaking things. Police grabs my shoulder but i swipe it off and bam. Im on the floor, face into concrete, chipped teeth and i cant even see where my dog is. Tbh i was more worried that he ran off because he was still a puppy and i was holding him during this whole ordeal. My glasses got knocked off my face when those two officers fucking bodyslammed me into the ground. I'm 5ft4, i weighed like 130 at this time but im just a legit smol asian girl.
What happened next? Well yknow, i got arrested and sent to jail for assaulting a police officer, nbd. Sat there for a few hours, listening to some psycho making weird noises. Finally get some call saying that my mom was waiting for me, and she bailed me out. She was crying a lot and told me that my dad didnt even bat an eye as they took me away, that he smiled and tried to fix his goddamn broken window. I believe it too, because I saw that shitty smirk on his face when i got to the scene. My mom has a bit of an uncontrollable temper so she looks psycho when the other person was the wack one. This was in January 2017.
Skip forward to the next police thing. June 2017. My mom demands that i pack all my shit and move back, and she wants to go with me. I plead no, but what am i gonna do against her? Alright, we drive and she starts saying stuff about lying and calls the bitch a slut and homewrecker and stuff, dad gets up to stand inbetween and stuff. Tells her to move than basically shoves her across the living room towards the door. **insert hysteria and bam again, screaming and each other, his hands on her, me trying to squeeze my body in between them and get his hands off of her. Doesnt really work cos he turns on me, hits me away and goes back to beat her. My screaming doesnt really help either, but i try what I can to claw his arms off of her. Nooooo, bad idea, but better me than her. He grabs me and my head is locked into his elbow so I bite down, arm. Baaaad idea again, but its in self defense imo. Im just trying to help my mom. He p much beats me up into a pulp her, grabs my shirt all the way up and yikes thats embarassing. The struggle goes on and eventually its calm again because slutface is like "honey staph"- note: only words and no actions to get close, buuuut, it works. Me and mom move to my room and start removing all my weebshit from the walls. Mom is muttering and saying a bunch of bs for him to hear and he storms into the room because hes fucking triggered and start the violence again. Oh but this is where i do the fun thing- i lunge myself at him so im like on top of him but holy shit, he legit pulls me off of him and throws me against the wall cabinets, and two hand chokes me, with his knees on my chest. Mom starts screaming at him, claws his face and soon the police are here and shit. Bitch called the police, and this is where it gets more fucked up. I legally live here, its on my license. I came back to move out, so its okay for me to be here, because i came to pack my stuff and take whats mine. So why exactly did the police not believe me? Why did my mom get arrested for putting dumb scratches on his face when he beat us, with pictures - that day- to prove that he inflicted more wounds on us. We were just defending ourselves. He put his hands on us first. Anyways, that starts my worries cos im like. Im 20, but idk what to do. How do i find money to bail my mom out? How do i even do that in the first place? But i managed.
Anywho skip forward, jackass is no longer in my life, tho i have to deal with him through my brother from time to time. Parents officially divorced Feb 2018. I've lived with my mom, she bought a cafeteria for a little bit so I worked there. Things were really hard because my mom had a lot of pent up anger that she would take out on me. My brother moved out because he went to university so he didnt really have to deal with much. Im also the older child, so bam. Anyways, we fought a lot. A LOT LOT. Like apeshit crazylot. I took a lot of beatings. It was like the weekend before Christmas of 2017 where a took a huge beating and ran away from my problems by going to my now-ex's house. He offered me to move in with him and his family, so I did. I had the choice of going back to my moms lifestyle and attempt to make up, or trying to live a different life. I lived with him from like Christmas to March 2018. We started having a lot of problems because he regret inviting me, he wasnt ready to give up his personal space and I was done babysitting someone who was older than me. Doing his laundry, doing his dishes, cleaning his room. I was done with being bored, never going out, being ignored while he did the same thing my dad did. Sit on his phone and not speak a word. Yeah, there were good times too, but they seem so fleeting when it seeps in with your own personal trauma of being ignored. Btw- when i moved to his place, my brother moved back home to fill the gap, but my brother is better with dealing with my mom and she doesnt blow up at him.
After I moved back, it was better. Yeah, shit went down sometimes but i guess overall it was better? My mom cried a lot. I would hear her talk on the phone with her family members in Korea and cry about how she was tired of everything and didn't want to do it anymore. I know exactly how that feels. Well, in the later months of 2018, we got along better and havent really had those blowups. I tried my best to stay home more instead of going out at night because she hated it. I tried to be nicer to her and more compromising. She's in Korea rn and things suck. During the whole parents thing, it sucks to feel like your parents are passing you to each other likea toy they dont want. It sucks to not really feel familial love growing up, where mom is just doing things because shes supposed to and dad just flat out pretends you dont exist. It sucks that it takes two years of partying, drugs and cons to find out
Submitted October 31, 2018 at 10:33AM by xfirelily via reddit https://ift.tt/2CRsVBn
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dorothydelgadillo · 6 years ago
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Blogging Tips: How to Write Blog Conclusions That Don't Suck
"OK, so uh... that's all I've got. Goodbye."
Whenever I get to the part where I'm supposed to write a conclusion for a blog article, I'm always tempted to write that. 
"That's all the good stuff," I want to say. "Everything beyond this point is fluff, because I've emotionally tapped myself out. So, like... go do the stuff I just told you to do."
Like introductions, blog conclusions are not exactly a party to throw together. 
But unlike introductions -- where most of us have a general understanding of what they're supposed to accomplish; we're just lazy -- blog conclusions have a tendency to stymy content creators, because our teachers from elementary and middle school did us wrong.
"Just restate what you've already covered, plus your thesis," they said. "That's plenty," they said.
No. No, no, no.
A blog conclusion is an opportunity to inspire people and make them see how great your brain is. You should leave your readers energized and leaping out of their chairs, ready to move mountains, make a big decisions, or at least try something new. 
Unfortunately, many of you are writing garbage, throwaway conclusions, and you don't even realize it.
Never fear, blogging citizens! I'm on a one-woman mission to help you turn this ship around. Today, you're going to learn what bad blog conclusions look like (and why they're bad), and the specific process I use to create winning blog conclusions every single time.
What Do Bad Blog Conclusions Look Like?
Before I can help you, first, you need to admit you have a problem.
(If it's any consolation, I was once in your shoes -- forced to confront the ghosts of terrible blog conclusions past, before I could embrace a brighter tomorrow.)
There are three common blog conclusion short-cuts you all need to stop using right now:
"Stop Me If You've Heard This One..."
What It Looks Like:
"Here's a thinly veiled attempt to restate my thesis without directly copying and pasting it from the introduction; I might have used a thesaurus to mix it up a little bit and keep things spicy. Here was the first point I covered in the second paragraph. Here is the second point I covered in the third paragraph. And here is the third point I covered in the fourth paragraph. Keep these things in mind as you move forward. Namaste."
Why It's Bad:
Even though we learned in grade school that this is how we should close out our essays and articles, you should never, ever do this.
It's lazy, and it adds nothing to the conversation. A conclusion is supposed to be a rallying cry to action. By simply rehashing everything you just discussed, adding no further context or insight, you're wasting everyone's time. 
"The Audience Crutch"
What It Looks Like:
"This is the last paragraph of the body. It was a real zinger, driving home my last point. Gosh, you must think I'm so smart right now. You're on the edge of your seat wondering how I'm going to bring it all together. OK, here's the last sentence of the last paragraph of the body -- I've hit you with some tough love; you've got to make a change.
OK, audience! Now it's your turn! You can tell, because I've bolded this part! In what is an obvious cry for help, because I don't know how to end my article, what are your favorite ways to end blogs? Let me know in the comments, even though I'm dying inside and know no one will comment."
Why It's Bad:
Guys, seriously? Do I even have to explain why a blatant attempt to completely avoid writing a blog conclusion is a bad thing?
Half of the time, these questions are pointless -- and, as the reader, I can tell you that your "engagement enhancer" is really you just being lazy.
These types of tactics worked well in 2006, but think about why people come to your content. They want to learn from you, while doing their best to avoid any sort of conversation with a human being. (That's why inbound works.)
Also, think about what you want. If you're a smart cookie, there's some sort of call-to-action or content offer you want them to convert on, right? Why muddy the waters with a throwaway audience poll?
If people are moved by your content, they will still comment. Or, even if they don't, that's not necessarily the litmus test for success you should be looking for.
Of course, there are exceptions to every rule, and there are rare occasions where polling your audience in this fashion may work. But unless you've got a compelling, strategic reason beyond, "I don't want to write a conclusion, and this is probably a good question to ask," don't do this.
"The Hole in My Heart Where Your Conclusion Should Be"
What It Looks Like:
        Nothing to see here, folks. You stopped after your last paragraph.
Why It's Bad:
I don't know how far down the rabbit hole I need to go to explain to you that not finishing your blog at all is a bad thing, but just in case:
The written facsimile of a "mic drop" following the last paragraph in the body of your blog is a bad thing. You're not writing the series finale of The Sopranos.
In all fairness, there are times where you may unintentionally fall into this trap. For example, If you're writing a blog article that's really just a list or an overview of a step-by-step process, it may seem like the you're supposed to just end it after the last bullet point.
While that sounds logical, you should still wrap up your list or how-to article with a nice conclusion bow that brings it all together.
(Also, from first-hand experience, I can tell you this is Kathleen's #1 pet peeve in reading blogs. So, if your target audience is a VP of Marketing, that's something to keep in mind.)
How to Write a Blog Conclusion
I use a simple process to write all of my blog conclusions. 
Once I get to the end of my last paragraph, when I'm ready to wow you with all that my brain has to offer, I imagine the reader sitting across from me, and I wait for them to ask me one of the following three questions:
"So What?"
"Why should I care about this? I mean, what you're saying makes sense, but so what? What does this mean for me? For my business? Why should I care?"
"Why Now?"
"Look, what you're saying sounds great, in theory. But I don't have time for this. Why should I make time for this right now? Why do I need to make changes to what's already working, what's easy, and what's comfortable in this very moment? What's the urgency? Are there any real consequences to inaction? Can't I just wait a little longer, when I have more time, more money, more people?"
"OK, What's Next?"
"Buddy, I am with you. I'm hooked, I'm in. But uh... what am I supposed to do? I'm excited, but I have no clue where to start. You gave me this huge, overwhelming laundry list of things, and I need you to give me that nudge in the right direction. What's the first baby step I can take to get me going on my big journey?"
When I'm ready to write the conclusion, I'll pause and ask myself, "Which one of these three questions is the most logical question a reader would ask me at this moment?"
Then, I write the answer. That's my conclusion.
Emergency Parachute: The "One Thing" Exercise
So, the above process works about 99.9% of the time.
But, if for some reason, you still get stuck -- it happens to the best of us -- here's what you should do:
Ask Yourself:
"If my audience has the brain of a heavily-concussed goldfish, and they only walk away remembering one thing from this blog article, what should it be and why?"
Your answer is your conclusion.
"OK, What's Next?"
Now it's your turn! What's your favorite way to conclude a blog?
I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Sorry, I couldn't resist.
What's next is that I have a challenge for all of you.
By the end of this month, I want you to revisit your top 10 performing blog articles and critically assess your conclusions. If a conclusion sucks, or it falls into one of the three short-cut categories I talked about, I want you to rewrite it, using the strategies I just taught you.
With that simple step, you'll transform your solid blog articles into content that is demonstrably more helpful than before.
You'll provide your audience with deeper insights and, in some cases, empower them put together a plan of action for themselves -- making them more likely to consider you their go-to resource when they need an answer to another question later on or a solution to an even bigger challenge.
from Web Developers World https://www.impactbnd.com/blog/blogging-tips-how-to-write-blog-conclusions-that-dont-suck
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