#i have too many feelings regarding that subject to have put myself through that at the moment

[somelazyassartist]

Brandy Cattle.......

[insidemyrottenbrain]

Henry gets jealous because you spend time with Richard

The risk of jealousy - TSH

Henry Marchbanks Winter x GN!Reader

Dearest anonymous, I hope you can forgive him and his denial of jealousy.

The sharp claw of jealousy finally scratches the untouchable Henry.

I’ve always been incredibly particular about whom I associate with. The people around me need to be worthy. Now, I am well aware that my choice of words may make me sound arrogant, so allow me to explain: I want them to have shared interests, to be able to hold late-night debates on esoteric topics, while giving me a sense of belonging and consequently not tiring me out socially. I do not ask for much, really. Alas, one cannot always get what one desires.

The little group of which I’m currently a part of is… pleasant. The twins regularly host dinners which are, of course, the birthplace of many fights and arguments regarding the most trivial subjects that usually end up with Henry winning. Francis unhesitatingly puts his aunt’s house at our disposal whenever desiderium naturae strikes us and amusingly complains about some disease or other the whole way there. I even consider some of Bunny’s jokes witty on the rare occasions when he stops being insufferable. Unfortunately, they all give me a shallow sense of belonging that only manages to make itself felt in transit moments. However, Henry is different. With him, I feel content reading in silence after a long day, waking up in the same bed, legs intertwined under the soft cotton sheets he insists on buying with Apolon tugging at our lazy eyelids or simply challenging one another’s knowledge on whatever topic interests us at a given moment. A continuous childlike rendez-vous.

I do not know why I have been so platonically attracted to Richard of late. When he first joined our Greek class, he did not strike me as someone who would manage to integrate his lowly self into our complexly layered group, or even more, someone who would enjoy my presence. He was and still is flawed and ordinary. However, this normality flowing through every habit, every movement, or expression is a strange refresh in an intangible web of meticulously tangled appearances and facades. Richard is not some ancient scholar buried in paradoxical ideals, Gods-praising rituals, and glorious beliefs, but a modern human. He is aware of the current world, unisolated, present, an active participant. Not only does he attend parties but he also drinks, kisses, and loves strangers. Though an exaggeration to the unknowing eye, he seems to me quite the Epicurean in a cult of Stoics (excluding Bunny).

Despite my writings above which one might foolishly mistake as praise on my part, I must now dive into Richard’s own tendency to fictitiousness. He throws, here and there, long, lavish fabrications (with the aid of which he becomes unconsciously arrogant) and slight inexactitudes he considers too small to pass unnoticed by the attentive ear. And according to my fate and against my trusted intuition, I found myself unable to stop listening whenever he started talking about his (fake) childhood in California filled with swimming pools and orange groves and dissolute, charming show-biz parents, teenage years with a new girlfriend every night, the newest dramas (if they truly do exist and are not yet other fictions) circling Hampden.

There is a quirk. I notice it now, when we’re all standing in the day room of Francis’, or rather his aunt’s, manor. Charles is playing the piano filling the room with gifts for ears, showing off as he always does, while Bunny comments on one rhythm or another, challenging him, fueling him further. Everything is normal, except for one detail that does not escape me. Henry grows more agitated with every single one of Richard’s grant histoires. Albeit, the so-called agitations are rather minuscule, but I pride myself in being able to distinguish them. A small frown, creasing his pale forehead just the right amount for it to disappear just as quickly and nonchalantly as it came, a constant rub of his hand against his limped leg, and a novel proneness to small physical gestures: touching knees, pressing shoulders, his hand on the small of my back or idly playing with my fingers. I settle on questioning him later since I know he will not show any truths of his mind in such large company. 

We share a room, since we stopped bothering to hide our relationship long ago from the others. Henry’s already in bed, his nose buried in a book, dressed in his pyjamas, his initials embroidered upon the left side of his chest; H.M.W. If I had been told years ago that I was to be sharing a bed or be in a relationship with the person I suffered the least, the one that I had to compete with in Julian’s classes, the one that knew how to push my buttons I would have died of agony. But now I’m content. I know of the infatuation rendering me blind. My life has become a continuous torture, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to live without him. Just like Zeus who vows to fulfil his promise with a single sacred nod of his head, so am I unable to change the basis of my passion. He is in all my plans. In all the joys the future holds. In the dead of night, in Julian’s lessons, in the summer by the lake, instead of my mind’s eye being fully focused on one specific task, it always switches without fail to him.

I lower myself onto the bed next to him. “You seemed troubled earlier, in the day room.” I ask casually an indirect question.

“You’ve been spending an awful time with Richard.” He responds swiftly, tonelessly, simply pointing out a fact. 

I consider my answer for a moment. “I suppose so.” I hum, just as my head hits the pillow. “Don’t you find him intriguing? He watches the news on television.”

“Intriguing?” He blurts out, closing his book and putting it on the bedside table. Clearly, I have his attention. He turns on his side to fully face me, his hair falling over his forehead and slightly over his glasses. “His intriguing part eludes me. You are wasting your time with him, listening to his rambles.” He says clearly irritated, not bothering to keep up his stoic facade. “I assure you, you would be much better spending your time wisely.”

I frown. This is unusual of him. “He is in our class, is he not? I cannot avoid him.”

“Of course not, that’s not what I am suggesting.” His eyebrows remain furrowed. “What I do mean is that he does not bring you any benefit.” He continues in a monotone. “Why must you listen to him with the same attention and interest as you listen to me?”

Ah, I see. Henry is jealous.

“Is this jealousy?” I ask attempting desperately to restrain the slight smile forming on my face. 

“You are mistaken.” He ‘corrects’ me sharply, raising his eyebrows.  “I am merely stating that I see no point in your interactions with Richard when you could gain much more from being in my presence.”

I raise a sceptical eyebrow. He acts as if I wouldn’t mourn his death in the same way Achilles mourned Patroclus’, with rage and violence.

Words are imperfect communication devices, so I pull him down by the back of his neck and press my lips against his in a pleasant normality. I feel him slightly relax against me, his hand resting on my neck.

“Henry,” I mumble as we part, forcefully stretching our souls apart. I remove his glasses and place them down next to us and his forehead naturally falls against mine “you know better than to have such doubts.”

“I do.” He mumbles back, not bothering to deny his feelings anymore. “However, it proves to be quite difficult to not have them when-” He stops considering his words. “When you plague me so. There is no day or night in which your existence takes mercy on me and does not destroy the little rationality I have left.” He lowers himself down on the bed next to me. “You inexplicably and absurdly manage to be and eradicate my sanity.” He sighs. “And it certainly does not help when you look at Richard with the same eyes you look at me.” Henry mutters.

My hand finds his and I chuckle. “I’d argue I look at him with entirely different eyes.” At my comment, Henry raises an amused eyebrow. “Perhaps you’ll stop seeing shadows where there are none.”

That is all he needs to defeat his insomnia in my arms once again and to fall prey to sleep’s vicious grasp his body indistinguishable from mine under the sheets, sharing one breath.

[onelineinthesand]

An Open Letter to Neil Gaiman in the wake of the Allegations

Mr. Gaiman,

There's a likely chance you will never see this, so this is as much for my fellow heartbroken fans and for myself as it is for you. Many of us feel the need to process this in the spaces we share--the spaces where we so often shared our love and admiration for your work: for the worlds you created that we have shared, enjoyed, and explored together. My name is Cassie. I'm a teacher. I too am a storyteller, a wordsmith, a lover of knowledge. I teach mythology, history, and ancient languages--subjects which I saw woven into your writings. It is my joy and privilege to share these subjects and my passion for them with young minds, just as it has been yours to share your love and passion through your mastery and craftsmanship with words and the research you wove into the words you built.

Why do I point out these similarities? Because while we are not the same, we share a great responsibility. I inspire young minds, and in turn, there are times when I see the admiration in my students' faces. Some of them look up to me. They see me as a source of knowledge, wisdom (though god knows I don't have much), and stability. They rely on me to create a space where their curiosity and enthusiasm can flourish. I see the way some of my students light up when they see me, how they love to share their discoveries with me, and sometimes they gift me with their precious trust.

It would be easy for me to lead those students where I wanted. The ones who look at me with trust and excitement in their eyes when I affirm them-- the ones who see me as someone to admire, someone whose praise they want to earn. Because they are young and impressionable--yes. But also, because I have been gifted this role in their lives. Some of them would be excited if I invited them to a personal dinner at my house. Some of them would see that as a reward to be desired, would be eager to go on a drive alone with me.

And yet, I suspect you know that it would be wrong for me to give my students special alone time or special gifts. That it would tarnish the safety of my relationship with that young person. That it would open them up to exploitation at my (or another teacher's) hands. Even if I mean well, it teaches that young mind that special alone time is okay, and that they can accept it safely. A young person who is taught that such attention is safe, who receives that attention--that one on one praise and affirmation--may cast aside their doubts or worries and chase after it, craving the promise of being unique, of being chosen by someone they trust and admire.

It is my job to teach them that safe adults--safe authorities--will never offer or ask for that, will never put them in a situation where they have no other safe adult or authority in their confidence regarding their relationship with you. That they must steer clear of the promise of "special" attention from an authority like that.

You, Mr. Gaiman, are the man against whom I warn my students.

You were given a precious gift. You were able to bless countless young minds with the experience of a fantasy world, of mesmerizing stories that inspired their imagination, made them laugh and cry and dream. Young people admired and idolized you, and when they came to you at fan events or crossed paths with you, they saw you-- just as my students see me--as someone whose praise and attention was to be desired.

You took that trust, and you used it to your advantage. You saw a young soul that looked at you with admiration of a student, of someone who wants to learn from you. You used that innocence, that ignorance, to take pleasure for yourself at their expense. There was a power dynamic between you and your fans: young women who wanted to be close to a person they admired--who believed you to be wiser, smarter, more gifted than themselves. You did not honor it. You did not treasure it. You used it. And you used it again and again and again.

Mr. Gaiman, I believe your victims. But please understand. Even had you not ignored their "no"-- even had you not gone to physical extremes that caused them harm and trauma, even had you only engaged in what were (according to the law) permissible sexual relationships -- in my eyes, you would still be reprehensible.

I am a teacher. It is my job to protect these young minds. If my students ever ask about or speak about you, in my classroom and in my school as far as I am concerned, you will be nothing more than a cautionary tale. You will be the example of a man (or woman) whom I must teach them to regard with suspicion. You committed an act which I consider most disturbing for a person of my profession. You used the precious, beautiful trust of a young mind to your own gain.

I hope that your public reputation is so damaged that no other young woman will venture into your snares again. But if someone does, please read my words.

When you see that starstruck look in a young person's eyes, see the joy and admiration, remember this: She sees you with the eyes of a child; the youthful excitement of meeting someone who is, in her mind, greater than her.

Nurture and protect that young mind. Model how a true leader responds to trust. Be the sort of man who deserves that admiration. Remember that the look in her eyes is its own reward. Be sure that she knows there are no secrets between you, that she is never alone with you, and remember-- when someone admires you that way, no matter whether she is of legal age, she will always be as a child before you.

As someone who fosters young minds, I am profoundly disappointed in you.

You do not deserve a second chance. But if you ever get one, do better.

Sincerely, A former childlike admirer of your works

[scarlet--wiccan]

Just out of curiosity but do you read/ hc pietro as neurodivergent? I know it’s a popular hc among fans and there’s certainly some moments that lend to that interpretation (plus I see a bit of myself and my brother in him so personally I hc he has mild autism) but I was wondering if you had any of your own thoughts on it, or for Wanda for that matter?

Yes, but it's complicated. Pietro and Wanda are both characters who spend a lot of time grappling with complex trauma, generational trauma, mental illness, and what are clearly meant to be read as neurological differences. I struggle with many of those things myself, and as a Romani person with an immigrant background, I get a lot out of reading these characters through that lens. It's an intrinsic part of what makes them so human and compelling to me, especially as part of a larger, intergenerational tapestry of mixed-race immigrants and survivors. These issues are a part of our heritages and histories, so I want that to be reflected in the characters who represent me.

I think it's hard to talk about neurodivergence or mental illness-- which, of course, are not the same thing, I just mean that the conversations tend to overlap-- with Wanda and Pietro because this is already, textually, part of the characters, but it's been implemented in really messy ways.

For both of them, their primary mental health challenges and neurological differences are treated as extensions or results of their powers. There is an allegorical element that gets in the way of literal representation. This sort of thing is very common in superhero comics, and I've written about it before regarding transness and genderfluidity. It's entirely possible to still write meaningful and resonant representation, but I don't know if I feel comfortable saying "Pietro is autistic"when the text is saying he doesn't have autism, he has a super-speed-mutation-brain. Does that make sense?

The other problem is that the material that introduced these elements to the characters is really problematic. I'm sure I don't have to explain why House of M is an ableist and sexist narrative, but a lot of people seem to overlook the fact that the depiction of Wanda as a person with specific mental illnesses is rooted in a harmful, ableist storyline. Specifically, the way that schizoaffective disorders are defined and pathologized in Disassembled is cruel, inaccurate, and just unacceptable. That tone is still echoed in a lot of modern comics when Wanda's mental health is addressed.

In addition, I really don't like to put too much stock in the whole "Pietro Maximoff Syndrome" thing from X-Factor. For one thing, Peter David is a hateful, vocal anti-Romani racist, and it is reflected in a lot of his choices with Pietro. While this direction did humanize and justify some of Pietro's personality flaws, I do feel that the tone was overall very derisive towards him.

In Scarlet Witch (2016), Wanda talks about going to therapy and taking antidepressants, and in Quicksilver: No Surrender (2018), Pietro talks about his complex trauma responses in a way that's specifically grounded to the reality of being a severely marginalized person of color. These are the best examples of how their mental health has been addressed-- they bypass the powers and allegory and just allow the characters to inhabit real experiences that actually deserve representation.

That said, it doesn't really represent neurodivergence the same way. I think that's a subject that superhero comics have been dancing around for a long time, but haven't quite figured out how to reckon with. I really hope its something we'll see more positive growth towards, in the future.

[iamcautiouslyoptimistic]

Hi pookie!!! It’s ya girl. Two things, a statement and a question.

1) Your support means the world to me <3. You’re always liking my posts and sending in asks and I’m very grateful for your existence. If it weren’t for you, I probably would’ve stopped posting about my OCs. You indirectly helped me to stop worrying about notes, being cringe or annoying, and to post whatever I feel like! Thank you so much for being a kind person 💜

2) This is actually more like a series of questions (💀), so sorry if it’s too much!

How long did it take for Mason and Helina to ‘confess’/express their feelings for each other? Does anybody (besides Woods obviously) else in the safehouse know about their relationship? Who fessed up first? Assuming there were no obstacles between the two, what would their idea lives look together?

Answer as many as you want/feel like! No pressure 💜

Bro you're so sweet😭 I'm so happy that I've been able to do that for you and offer that sort of support! And I will continue to do so because I love seeing your OCs and how much thought you put into them🫶🏻 DON'T EVER STOP!!!!!

THOSE ARE SUCH GOOD QUESTIONS THAT I WILL GLADLY ANSWER!!! I don't have everything figured out just yet as some of their story is still in the works (mainly because I'm indecisive lol) SO I'll write out the thoughts I do have in regards to these questions, though they may be subject to change later on. Sorry this is long😵‍��

Oh boy, I'd definitely say it took them awhile to finally tell each other how they felt. Helina's personality goes through some extreme changes as a result of the brainwashing so she becomes more reserved in certain ways, especially in regards to romance. It was never important to her until she met Mason so the genuine feelings he inspires are rather new to her. Mason also seems to be more mellow (I'm still familiarizing myself with his character, tho, so please tell me if I'm wrong), especially after the death of his wife. As a result, it would definitely be a slow-burn romance which would be hindered even more by the hunt for Perseus.

Mason was probably the first to confess. I can see him pursuing Helina more because she'd be distracted by her responsibilities to MACV-SOG. She'd find comfort in that sort of thing, especially if she was nervous about the blossoming feelings she has for Mason👀 As a result, he'd be the one making the first moves and pulling her out of her shell a bit until she was comfortable.

Besides Woods, I would say Adler and Park are also aware of Mason and Helina's affections for each other, considering they watch Bell closely throughout the game. Adler doesn't really approve since he knows who Helina was before joining MACV-SOG and knows that this new version of her is one he helped create. I like the idea that Mason and Woods would be unaware of the fact that Bell was brainwashed, explaining why they were friendlier than the others throughout the game (I could just be completely misinterpreting that tho lol). That whole revelation is something Helina and Mason have to work through together after the game.

In a perfect world, Helina and Mason would be a married couple with a nice house, a cute dog, and David as their son. The classic American dream life. However, with all the crap they've been through, that perfect life simply isn't possible for them😔

[flipping-the-coin]

Optimus: when and how did you figure out your host was in love with megatron? How did you feel about that? What was it like discovering that? Why didnt Ratchet tell you about your past?

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You have a great many questions anonymous one. I am... uncertain of how much I would like to share, but I will answer to the best of my abilities.

Regarding your first query, I was unaware that Orion and Megatron of Kaon were romantically involved until Orion took control of our frame during his stay on the Nemesis. I did not notice much during the war because of other issues that required my attention, but looking now I can see h█ge █ole█ █n my █e█o█y. I have all of Orion's memory within me, but grea█ █h█n█s a█e m█s█i█g, or rather kept from my view. Not only that, but now that my mind is not clouded by pain or fear, I can see just how... grim Orion's life was until he met Megatron. I was distracted at all times during the war, and thus most of the memories I used were of minor events, small instances and habits. They came in flashes along with barrages of data. Very rarely did I fully experience one of Orion's memories. With that in mind, I was totally unaware that Orion and Megatron were anything but brothers.

I see now how wrong that assumption was, but based upon what memories and flashes I was █llowe█ █o a█ces█, that was the extent of their relationship in my mind. That was part of the reason I never fully understood why Orion fought me so hard. Why would he risk everything for one mere companion? I know that up until I took in Bumblebee, I would have never given my life for one mere mortal. Of course that has changed now, but that was my mentality at the time. Now with that said, I was shocked beyond words to learn of their relationship through experiencing their... intimacy.

There is nothing I can imagine worse than having one's frame touched so intimately by one's worst enemy. I hated every moment on the Nemesis, I hated every touch that I could feel but do nothing to stop. I despised every kiss I gave no consent for. It was a torment, especially when they tried to merge.

Simply put, I was distraught, shocked, and horrified all at once. It was the harshest reality check I have endured so far. Learning of Orion and Megatron proved that all I fought for was not as I imagined it. Their love showed █h█t I w█s not nee█e█, t█a█ █y exi█ten█e w█s merely prolongi█g a w█r t█a█ █hould h█ve en█e█ █illen█i█ █go. At the time I could not process that truth, and so I did not change my course of action when I regained control. How could I when my whole life was built on the lie that Orion and Megatron were mere companions drawn apart by differing ideals? Thus, I endured agony and kept silent, trying not to think much of what I experienced. Even now I am not fond of thinking about it and the unwanted engagements on the Nemesis. I understand my host a little better now, but I still believe he was too harsh when it came to my minor interactions with Ratchet.

As for your last question... I have thought on it often myself. Ratchet is not a mech who would lie without reason. As such I can only assume he never told me of Orion and Megatron because he was of the belief that I knew. To my knowledge, me and my host were seen as one and the same until our separation. Ratchet likely thought that I had seen fit to move on from whatever ties I had to Megatron. He did not know that I was not Orion and that I had no idea how close my host and my foe really were. From there I can only guess it never came up because I never asked. I had no reason to question, not when I was constantly occupied.

I hope that answers your questions.

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[livefromphilly]

Sony A7CII Thoughts After Two Months

PROS:

The A7C was already one of my favorite cameras of all time and this improves on it a lot more than I thought when just seeing the specs. The added front dial alone makes it many times easier to control than the older model, and lets me use my typical Sony setup that I’ve grown accustomed to (aperture on front dial, shutter speed on rear dial, and ISO on the scroll wheel). 

This is the quickest operating Sony camera I’ve owned. I think they kind of lulled me into forgetting how fast cameras can be going from off to on and taking photos. The A7RII was slow as heck with each subsequent model I’ve owned getting faster and faster (A7III to A7C to A7RIV). This new Sony is at a level of speed that makes it hard to go back to using the A7RIV which I still own (for now). 

The autofocus is superb. I still haven’t really put it through its paces since I got the camera in the winter and the lack of light plus uncooperative weather has made it tricky to go out and shoot, but from what I have shot it’s nearly flawless. It’s way better than any camera I’ve owned before. It also has some really neat autofocusing modes, like the ability to focus on the eyes of birds. I’m not really around birds close up all that often but it worked really well at an exotic bird place in Jersey I went to recently. 

The camera is 33 megapixels, which is a nice compromise between feeling like it’s sometimes too much (61) or too little (24). 

The in-body image stabilization is really good. It’s certainly the best I’ve used in any camera so far…although to be fair I’ve never used a Nikon/Canon/Fuji/Olympus body with IBIS, only Ricoh (GRIII), Panasonic (GX7 and GX85), and Sony. 

It can lower the shutter when switching lenses so dust doesn’t get in there. Not gonna lie it seems kind of dangerous and something that could potentially damage the shutter, but so far it’s kept the dust out. 

CONS:

The viewfinder isn’t great. I’ve never really been an EVF snob since I’ve been shooting on mirrorless EVFs for over a decade now (I had a V1 back in 2013), but going from the A7RIV to this makes it kind of stick out. I also recently handled an A7RV, which really blows it out the water. With autofocus lenses it’s no problem, but using manual focus lenses is more difficult. On the plus side, it automatically goes into peaking mode when you manually focus, even when using adapted lenses or lenses without electrical contacts. 

The camera only has one card slot. Not a huge dealbreaker considering every other camera I own aside from my A7RIV is the same in that regard. A second slot even if it was a micro would have been great though. A nice thing about the A7RIV is that I’ve never left home without a memory card because even if I forget one there’s always another in there. 

No joystick. Again, not completely necessary but it’s nice to have. Most of my subjects aren’t humans (or animals, or other things that the camera can instinctively detect) so there are plenty of times I want to position the focus point myself. 

Slow flash sync and shutter speed. This camera is like the A7C before it in that it only flash syncs up to 1/160. It also only shoots up to 1/4000.

Still don't love the flip screen because it makes quick waist-level shooting a pain in the ass. I wish they went with the A7RV style screen.

Speaking of, all the new perks on this camera make me want to use it a ton more than my A7RIV, but it also makes me want to get an A7RV. Maybe I'll sell my X100V since the prices are nuts right now...

SAMPLE PHOTOS:

Sony 85mm f/1.8 | ISO: 250, f/2.8, 1/125 sec

Sony Zeiss 55mm f/1.8 | ISO 100, f/1.8, 1/160 sec

Sony 85mm f/1.8 | ISO 5000, f/1.8, 1/50 sec

Tamron 20-40mm f/2.8 @ 20mm | ISO 3200, f/2.8, 1/125 sec

Sony Zeiss 55mm f/1.8 | ISO 100, f/2, 1/160 sec

Sony Zeiss 55mm f/1.8 | ISO 12800, f/2, 1/50 sec

Sony Zeiss 55mm f/1.8 | ISO 100, f/2.2, 1/640 sec

Tamron 20-40mm f/2.8 @ 32mm | ISO 320, f/2.8, 1/20 sec

Sony Zeiss 55mm f/1.8 | ISO 100, f/1.8, 1/500 sec

Tamron 20-40mm f/2.8 @ 37mm | ISO 800, f/2.8, 1/40 sec

Sony 24mm f/1.4 GM w/ K&F Concept Black Diffusion 1/4 Filter | ISO 8000, f/1.4, 1/50 sec

Sony Zeiss 55mm f/1.8 | ISO 250, f/1.8, 1/125 sec

Sony Zeiss 55mm f/1.8 | ISO 250, f/2, 1/125 sec

Tamron 20-40mm f/2.8  @ 20mm | ISO 400, f/2.8, 1/40 sec

Sony 24mm f/1.4 GM | ISO 8000, f/1.6, 1/50 sec

Tamron 20-40mm f/2.8 @ 20mm | ISO 100, f/2.8, 1/320 sec

[tamelee]

Okay maybe controversial opinion: I dont like seeing ocs in fics. Isnt ur story about sns? Why wuld we need ur ocs? I think it is just a way for people to selfinsert into their story through an oc no one knows. It kinda sucks because I was excited for ur story too. So yeah thats just how I feel

I don't think that is so controversial. That's just your preference and that is fine. You don't need to read anything you don't like, right? I'm not sure whether you meant me in particular or in a general sense so I'll just answer for myself why I needed an (/a few minor/background) OC('s); It IS a story about Naruto x Sasuke but I personally like story a lot. Meaning that events, conflict and even things like Setting are connected to convey a message. With that also other characters.

These elements can be used to enhance all that. (If done correctly though, it CAN become muddy.) To me that is a lot more meaningful than going from scene to scene "just because". BUT, I do enjoy fics solely for the fact that we can experience SNS through an authors mind in infinite different ways and AUs even if they only write about Naruto and Sasuke and whatever it is they're doing at that moment. A clear linear story that brings you from A to B. I can understand when people then especially don't want to read entire paragraphs about a character they don't know (or care about) and want to skip to the reason they started reading in the first place. In my case, I'm not very good at writing/describing things the way I want to. Not even in my own language. I think I have a better chance of conveying what I want to tell visually which is why I choose to create a DJ instead. But then "show don't tell" is different as it is literally shown. Every panel matters. And I feel like I need a new character to help me do that and create conflict for the sake of telling a more interesting story regarding my message. I think it would be boring for me if everything is well, rainbows and happiness right from the start because what is left for me to do? And with Canon-compliant stories, it's not very believable to me. (Again, not saying these stories aren't good, this is just for me given the trouble I'll put them in anyway. Fics are often already well-established for good reasons as we already know the characters, like fluff for e.g. and I can enjoy them.) But any existing characters don't really fit here you know? It definitely, for me, isn't a self-insert but it is inevitable that there can be relatable elements because of my chosen Theme. Hm~ you can see it as a (fanmade-)movie arc, but then placed during the blank period. Those arcs always have new characters and at the end of it you don't really (or ever) see them again. But here I tried to weave them through the OG-story nonetheless. I may be a bit self-indulgent though as this will be a very long project. I was actually thinking of uploading some sketches of the OC in a bit and introduce.. him 👀 But of course, you don't need to read it at all. In fact, it's very likely that many won't considering the heavy subjects. But I do hope this clarified it a tiny bit Nonee.

[generation1point5]

After Echo: A Retrospective

It's been a little over a year since Echo and its related works compelled me to write a slew of thoughts and a whole fanfic. I had joined a community, left with some new friends, and am now back largely to the same place I was before. I've come full circle, as it were.

I've taken and contributed largely what I could, and now that I look back on this time it feels to me more like a chapter read and closed than anything ongoing. The thought does not make me as melancholic as I thought it might, perhaps for the fact that I feel like I have done all I could; that, and the anticipation of knowing that this day would one day come to pass has also crossed my mind a long time ago. It is not the first time I've passed through such phases in life, and it will certainly not be the last. It's a well-worn, familiar road by now.

Yet the impact it's left on me, however brief, has demonstrably proven that this particular cycle has been more compelling than most; the last time I had committed so much to a fandom was Mass Effect. Disco Elysium might have counted too, if not for the fact that my radicalization into Marxism had been a project that was already years in the making at that point, and my engagement of that sort is of a different dynamic entirely. That owes to the nature and social approach to politics as a whole when it comes to human relations, I think.

At the time of writing, After All has just over 1,650 views, and 70 kudos, far surpassing my earlier publicly published project for Mass Effect regarding my OCs. That is to be expected, considering that I was writing about actual (and very popular) characters from the work itself. To my own impression, it has made more of an impact among AO3 readers in general than it has with the community surrounding Echo Project as a whole. This is also within expectations, as I was writing a fic whose very premise is subject to much discourse within the fandom, and it didn't feature much of anything in the way of mature content beyond the banality of horror in late-stage capitalism affecting a small town in America (or Columbia, as it were).

I check back on my work less often than when I did shortly after I started uploading it, but each time I come back to it I still find lines that I'm happy that I had put to words; it was those few instants where I feel like I had touched on something fundamental, raw and true, and portrayed it with a clarity that stands the test of time. Ultimately, I am satisfied with the work I produced. I did not write After All to be a blockbuster. But part of me did write the fic with the intent for it to be read for an audience beyond myself; otherwise, it would have all remained in my head, never committed to paper. There is always a two-level game to the artistic process; it must be sincere and near enough to the heart to be worth the effort, but it is always published with the hope that others see it, that it would be recognized. I constantly remind myself never to find validation in my art. Recognition should always be kept distinct from self-worth. I am all-too familiar with the ways that tying one's identity to close to their creative sides can lead to self-destructive views on oneself.

Unlike the visual arts, the written word always contains a thesis, a velocity, a direction, an argument and intent to add or otherwise alter perspective. It is not satisfied with realizing a projected image onto a visual medium. Words can be made pretty by good organization, but if the content is empty the work will be rendered lifeless.

My intent with After All was not to correct what I perceived to be a wrong in the writing, nor was it a simple exercise of wish fulfillment (or so I tell myself). What Echo had captivated and inspired in me was, much like Disco Elysium, the banality of the horror of our everyday circumstances, the material dialectic and contradictions within our socioeconomic fabric that shape the lives of many. Despite the presence of the paranormal in Echo, the key theme it speaks to, and what I always return to, is that we make monsters of ourselves and other people. I am compelled by the tragedy inherent in the struggle to rid ourselves of these horrors while not losing ourselves in the process. It speaks to the human condition, and that was what I hoped to capture.

What I had concluded early on, and what I knew would cause me to detach myself from the community even as I got into it, was the tendency for fandoms to reduce stories to their "moral," as they are derived by all who interpret the work. In a way, it goes to show how we evaluate characters as a whole, to read them as ultimately good or bad, people worth defending or condemning, but to me these debates serve only to reinforce a broader point: that at best, the products of human emotion (art, philosophy, politics, music, literature, etc.) are interpretations of the world. They tell you more about the person who's talking than the world they're talking about. What I had wished to write was in response to these black and white assessments, to re-establish a thesis that we are complex, self-contradicting, self-divided. I wanted to broaden the focus on the character by illustrating the world, and see the grey out of the black and white. It was meant to be a sober look in the mirror, darkly revealed through the lens of Echo's characters and the world it shares with our own. I wanted to write a story without that clear sense of karma, as such a notion is neither present in Echo nor the real world. The question of what people deserved was never the point of Echo, and neither was it something that I wanted to assert in my fic, either. Far more compelling to me is the idea regarding one's capacity for change, distinct from whether it was warranted, deserved or even possible.

At the same time, I wanted to tell a story that spoke to more than just self-improvement. The most compelling stories for me are not ones that are focused on individuals, or solitary heroes that beat the odds. Far more moving are stories that illustrate the broader world around them, as Echo did, to highlight the tension between changing the self and the self being changed by circumstances. That tension, I believe, is the reason why we feel the weight of our world so keenly. This struggle is neither noble nor beautiful, neither moral nor heinous. Like pain, it is simply there, and despite our best effort to flee from it, it lingers. That, to me, is the story of Echo. It is the story of many of our lives, and why we all try to make something of it, often into something that it is not. Who is to say whether it will be, ultimately, for the better?

After All is, by my own analysis and admission, a slanted excursion in self-expression. It was an attempt to show others how I see the world and the people in it, as expressed by the art of another, who saw and portrayed much the same world in their own way. I intended my own contributions as a gesture of respect, of recognition, of remembrance when I had finished my journey and began a new one. Since then, I have journeyed onto new pastures and old haunts, and look back on those prior days with a distant fondness and melancholy, having crossed into the pastures I had long espied over the horizon.

But the echoes of that time will always remain.

[someoneinjersey]

made it through the weekend and even was able to go get some things done before we went and picked Bizzy up from her babysitter. i got my oil changed and i wanted to throw a fit because it cost $68. Ten years ago I could go right down the road and get an oil change for less than $25. what the actual fuck. so goddamn aggravating. told my mom about it and how as usual i'm not even a week into the month and basically all my disability money is gone. all she said was "welcome to adulthood. sad." and i swear i wanted to reach through the phone and shake the shit outta her. last week or the week before, kate and i had a big not-fight and during our talk afterwards we discussed how since my mom is my single biggest trigger and/or the source of seemingly unrelated triggers, i need to go back and make more boundaries or reinforce the ones i tried to put in place a while ago. and i was like hm, okay, i'll have to think about how i can broach the subject of say, being in contact like once a week unless something comes up maybe. then the very next day mom hit me with "you know i think if you didn't come to see me in october i wouldn't have survived" and i just threw my fucking hands in the air and gave up. idk what to fucking do and i don't have a therapist anymore and i'm extra moody about it all right now because i started my period four days late.

in any case regarding money, i was able to not mooch off kate all weekend since we went away so early in the month, and so the only things i "treated" myself to (besides food which is 50/50 on whether or not it's a treat or making life easier or whatever) was a denim boiler suit from walmart, potting soil, four pots, and a grow lamp so i can repot and move the four plants that live on the kitchen windowsill. i've never kept plants alive this long so i don't intend on letting them die yet, so they're getting bigger pots and new soil and i'll likely move them into my bedroom. probably switch night stands and stick them on the one in the far corner with the grow lamp. i wish we had places to put them out in the house but A we get zero sun B the aloe plant and chrysanthemum aren't good for the cats and C i'm the only one that takes care of them anyway so they might as well just stay in my space. and it's also like, is it "treating" myself to something if it's keeping a living thing alive? idk. and the denim boilersuit looks so fucking cute i have no regrets spending $28 on it.

it's still incredibly weird drinking coffee every day but it has been helping my moods, surprisingly. i also make myself have a cup of tea (usually decaffeinated green tea) before bed. i'm still keeping up with my planner, though i'm letting myself slide when it comes to my little goal of reading every day. if i blow through too many stories too fast i burn out, so i'm taking my current book slowly and giving myself some grace to take days off. i've eaten like shit since thursday what with being away from home (and today being busy and too tired to cook) so i've noticed i feel not as good in that respect but i can get back on track maybe by tomorrow. maybe. still being exhausted and also being in my period doesn't really bode well for having the energy to make healthy meals or being able to deny my period mood cravings. i have a very unhealthy relationship with food. my feelings inside turn foul and evil if i can't have exactly what i want to eat when i want it if i have a craving. it might actually be psychotic.

i have some things i've been wanting to write, little fanfic ideas. or maybe not so little. but i can't activate that switch in my brain to actually do it. i have hang ups. a lot of them. bah

oh and i left my apple watch on the other side of the state like a fuckin champ. night yall

[muppetsfan243]

My Two Cents on this whole Thomas Sanders/Sander Sides Situation as an Old Viewer

AUTHOR'S NOTE - Wow, this post turned out to be way longer than I anticipated, so here's the TL;DR if you don't want to read the whole thing. I'd still recommend to do so, but yeah. TL;DR - I think Thomas Sanders and his team are valid for taking a long time to work on stuff like the Sander Sides finale, but I think some criticisms the community has are valid too, and it's nice to see people in the Thomas Sanders community speak up about their criticisms. Alright, as I said in my previous post, I dipped out of Sander Sides about two-ish years ago, mainly because I myself was growing out of the series. With all due respect to everyone who works on the show past and present, I didn't like that episodes were starting to become more story-driven with heavy morals and deep meanings, to me, it was no longer a short light-hearted series about random everyday subject matters with comedy and skits to pace it out. But of course, that's just a me thing, it's clear that the direction Sander Sides went ended up making the series a huge success and I don't fault people for liking the series where it's at or what it's become. If you enjoy Sander Sides, that's great, more power to ya! Anywho, I don't know how or why, but on my "For You" feed, I stumbled upon a post criticizing Thomas for a recent update video he made regarding his content overall, saying he was making false promises and that they are tired of being given these false hopes every year when they never come to be. That post led me down a whole rabbit hole on Tumblr of many users criticizing Thomas on a lot of things, mainly the communication with his fans.

Admittedly, a lot of the posts I've found I have mixed feelings on; I said this in a reblog/repost (whatever it's called on this app, I'm still learning), but a lot of them feel as if they don't understand what goes into making a big project of any kind. You can check out my reblog of Rixitup's post if you want my full thoughts on that matter, but in short, speaking as someone who is a small creator who has big visions for things I want to make in the future, it can take a lot, and I mean a LOT, of time to create something to be the way you envision it. Sometimes it may take a few months, other times it can take a couple of years. I don't know Thomas himself, nor do I know what his thought process for this finale and the series as a whole is, but if he wants the finale to look a specific way, then I can understand why he and the team have been taking so much time to get this finale going. Remember, the world is still opening back up from a pandemic we went through for about three years, and especially given where Thomas and his team are located, I wouldn't be surprised if that has played a big role in halting most of the production on the finale until now.

With all of that said, however, I will say, for those who have, it's really nice to finally see some people in this community give constructive criticism regarding Thomas Sanders as a creator. When I was part of the community, I remember having all these feelings regarding Thomas' work and especially Sander Sides, including how I felt the show has become a bit too serious for my liking and how the show has become less light-hearted. But often, I'd keep my mouth shut because no one else within the community that I saw would ever give out any sort of criticisms regarding them. The only times I would do so was with friends who were into Thomas Sanders' stuff, and even then, I was often frown upon, some saying my opinion was invalid because Thomas works so hard to get this stuff out. And don't get me wrong, I genuinely believe he does! The enthusiasm he puts into his non-series videos seems legit. But it felt like in this community, you weren't allowed to criticize Thomas, Sander Sides, or anything Thomas Sanders related, like Thomas was a god who could do no wrong. That was another reason why I left the fandom, to have your voice not only be unheard but also invalidated, that hurts a lot, especially in a community that's meant to be respectful to one another.

Now in early 2023, to see a slew of people constructively criticize Thomas, Sander Sides, and other things, it feels so....nice. It feels great to know that I'm not alone in thinking or feeling certain things for many years, namely...

The Lack of Light-Hearted Comedic Episodes - Again, I think with where Sander Sides is now, this isn't an issue, but it is something older viewers like me miss a lot. Remember, Sander Sides didn't start out as this story-heavy/driven series with many plots and lore, it was originally just a fun side series Thomas did to discuss different topics or moral thoughts he had in his mind, expressing them with some comedic banter with his Vine characters, plus one original character. That was what drew me into the series and I wish we had more smaller videos like that inbetween the more story-driven ones (and also ones that weren't just simply ads), they're just a good breather from those episodes.

The Need of Communication with Fans - Now I personally believe that Thomas doesn't owe the fans anything in terms of the actual content in question, as at the end of the day, it's up to him of whether or not he feels comfortable with doing whatever he's creating/making. The only thing I would say he does owe to his viewers, though, is just updates and explanations as to what's going on. He doesn't have to say when episodes or stuff are coming out, it can just be simple stuff like "Hey, we're about to work on X and Y regarding this project!" or "Gonna be taking a break from this for a bit." I know the big topic right now is the season finale, but I'd like to point out "A Recipe for Me" and how long that took to get out there. Now I'm not gonna blame Thomas for how long it took to publish the song, I'm sure there's a lot that goes into creating a song from getting musicians, a composer, a company to distribute and handle the copyrights for the song, and much more. My issue is that the music video specifically features a ton of fans who paid a certain amount of money to be featured in a future video. This was at a New York event in August of 2017, and the music video didn't come out until late 2019; Thomas never gave out any updates between then as to what this video was or when it would come out. I don't know, to me, that feels a little bit rubbish; if I paid a certain tier to get featured on something, especially if it's hyped up in an advertising campaign, I'd like to know any updates on how that video is going along. I know there's also some controversy with the Patreon stuff, but I can't really speak on that matter, as I never participated in his Patreon page, mainly because I'm not interested in it.

Character Derailing - This one's a little bit more simpler than the previous two and is definitely an opinion thing, but yeah, really didn't like how some of the characters have been derailed once the show switched permanently to a story-driven format starting with "Accepting Anxiety." Whether or not it's because of the whole "orange side" plot, I personally don't know, but I miss it when characters like Roman and Patton were a lot caring of the other Sides or how Logan had a soft spot for the others but rarely feels comfortable to admit it. I don't really know how to describe this one right now, I've been writing this post for too long. XD

Of course, not all of the criticisms I agree with and some of the posts under the hashtag #tscritism do feel a bit more mean-spirited than genuine criticism, but overall, it does feel nice to know I'm not alone in thinking these things for so long. Especially after being shamed upon for having some personal criticisms with Thomas' content, reading some of these posts made me feel a bit better.

All that said, I'll leave you all with this note. It's okay to criticize someone you look up to, someone you like, no one's perfect, no one's gonna be this god of a person, an almighty being and such. It's important to acknowledge these criticisms as they can be used to further improve someone or something. However, don't go sending hate to Thomas and his team or push them to get stuff like the finale out. To me at least, it's clear that they have a specific vision for how they want this finale to go. Do they have to do it this way? No, they could just do a simple video inside Thomas' living room and call it a day. But that's not what they want the finale to be and that's okay. If they want this to have multiple sets, musical numbers, be four parts, then they do them. At the end of the day, it is Thomas' creation and he deserves to end the season (or series, I can see this being the series finale too) however way he wants to.

That's my two cents, definitely a lot longer than I anticipated. But hey, that's me for ya, I have a lot of thoughts to share on certain things, and I guess this is the first time I let a few of them out here on Tumblr.

[talkethtothehandeth]

hi, i hope it's okay for me to bring up something in your carrd to warn you about. it's a really bad idea to put the usa suicide hotline up as a resource because i and other mentally ill people have been hurt by it. anyone who reaches out for help will be very unpleasantly surprised by the operator actually sending the cops to your house despite not seemingly intending to in order to "make sure" you go to the hospital just for contemplating thoughts of self-harm alone. we have been traumatized by being kept at wards involuntarily, especially wrt the painfully unsafe and uncomfortable furniture, as well as abusive staff who punish(ed) us for being scared and wanting help... or, y'know, actual treatment. maybe this is just me and my bias as an anti-psych activist but i'm speaking from my own, as well as others', experiences (and i can only imagine how physically disabled people are treated with disrespect). also, i apologize but i don't have any good alternatives to replace the link with instead, so i hope you don't discard my criticism. i simply don't want this to happen to anyone else who might wish to reach out through your well-intentioned advice. please take this message in good faith and have a good night.

TW suicide/suicidal ideation

Howdy!

You’re absolutely not overstepping by sharing this and the negative experiences/feelings you have regarding the subject of using a hotline. Though my blog focuses more on physical disabilities, I am diagnosed with multiple mental disorders that aren’t my autism and adhd, including bipolar type two, anxiety— which might be OCD, and a different personality disorder which I don’t talk about much due to demonization and stigmatization of it, it also isn’t something I’ve fully accepted myself, but that’s another post. I hear you and recognize the harm that psychiatrists/institutions have inflicted on people. I also am aware that these resources, regardless of the negative aspects (which, let’s be honest, there are a lot) are some of the only options that people have.

My psychiatrist/therapist’s [I’m forgetting the exact word for the building] has a crisis line, and the second thing I was told when the number was given to me, the number that can be reached whenever, was that if they think I’m in immediate danger, they would send the police to my house. I’ve come very close to getting into a ward, but I’ve never been forced into one. I am incredibly thankful for that as I know I probably wouldn’t receive adequate pain care there, but just because I haven’t been forced into one doesn’t mean that others haven’t, as you said.

I’ve kept it there because it should be an option still, I’ve had to call multiple times before and I’ve had some good interactions and some not good interactions, I am scared that they will do the same, which is allowing cops into a situation they are not adequately trained for. However, through this, I know that this hotline has still helped people, and has the crisis text line. I don’t want to take it away, but I think I should try to figure out a way to like, explain the potential risks. Everyone is allowed to make the choice for themselves about whether they want to seek outside help in order to aid in their times of distress. I text the crisis line, but many a times, especially during the late nights, they do not answer. Some of them are not helpful, but others are and it’s at times enough to just talk about things. I tell people I have suicidal thoughts, but not a plan, because no matter how much my brain tries to convince me I want to be dead, I understand that this is part of my disorder. There have been times when I’ve tried to take my life, too.

I hear you, and do not devalue your criticism based on your personal experiences, or the experiences of others. It seems to be a “hit or miss” kind of thing when it comes to psychiatric care, and I feel it is similar to us who are also physically disabled. Even though I’ve had some very bad experiences and have been mistreated (to say the absolute least) I’ve still found physicians and nurses who do treat their patients with dignity and respect. And just because I’ve had a few good experiences, it doesn’t mean that suddenly my medical trauma is wiped away.

It is saddening to know how rare it is to have these good encounters, especially with someone whose job it is to help care for something as significant as mental illness. And I feel the same for doctors being horrible about physical disabilities. Additionally, and rewording what I mentioned just in the other paragraph, these options should still exist for people to have the choice of pursuing a hotline, a doctor, or any sort of health care treatment. They can decide if they want to try, just as others can decide that it isn’t for them, whether it be from personal or outside experiences.

My page is welcome to criticism, I keep my anon and messaging open that way those who want to say something can. The one and only time I dismiss “critics” is when people send in nasty messages (like suicide bait). You are not wrong or bad for defending/supporting your position, and I never will take away the validity of other’s experiences just because mine have been different.

TL;DR: I absolutely agree that the mental health field is not as it should be, I agree it can be just as rotten and misguided (those are understatements) or even worse than how doctors who treat physically disabled patients. However, I do believe that keeping these resources can also be beneficial to a person, who is ultimately making a decision whether or not to utilize what is available. I do not support the incorporation of police in mental health situations, and I firmly believe that improper psychiatric care, just as physical care, can be detrimental to people. I understand the negative impacts, and as you mentioned, you (generalized) don’t have a good alternative. Until I am able to find one, I keep this in my carrd.

[gracielately]

When people ask, "What is your dream?" it’s common for them to assume it refers to a career ambition. This assumption comes from a cultural emphasis on professional success and personal achievement, often framing dreams as something to aspire to in the workplace or related to public accomplishments. For many, dreams are synonymous with career goals, financial success, or personal projects that heightens their public identity or status.

However, dreams may have different definitions for everyone. Heck, It can be anything meaningful to you. Motherhood isn't a job that's measured by wealth, promotions and accolades that you gain during the process, but it is a job that's full of love, compassion, values, patience and especially resilience. This was originally a performance task in my subject: Reading and Writing, but I made a draft 2 years before I wrote this essay. Words cannot describe how I yearn to be a mother, but I tried as hard as I could. Enjoy reading !!

My Ultimate Dream: “Nurture’s Calling!”

There is an inner fire burning inside of me, a deep desire embedded in my soul—a certain and heartfelt desire to become a mother. It is not something that I just want or need; it is a part of my nature. From the days of playing with baby dolls as a little girl to working towards success for my future family, I knew it was always my calling. To nurture and pour my heart into a living testimony of me and my partner’s love is the highest expression of love for me, and I am ready to give it my all.

Usually regarded as a nurturing type of person, there is an aching desire within me to provide a life for my future children that is abundant with love and compassion. When I think about my future children, I do not just see small versions of me and my partner—I see the living testaments of the love we have created. The concept of holding my child for the first time, looking at them, and seeing parts of myself and the person I love fulfills me in ways no words can explain. It's almost as if once this time comes, my lifetime purpose will have been fulfilled. I am aware that motherhood is not an easy role to take on, and I am fully conscious of the changes that my body would have to undergo, such as pregnancy pains, sleepless nights, and postpartum problems, but none of that scares me. I will wholeheartedly welcome every sacrifice and pain because I know that the reward that is waiting at the end is worth more than everything. I know that all the pain and worry will disappear once I hear my child's first cry and will be replaced by an overwhelming love instead. I can already feel it—that wave of emotions that will wash over me once I get to hold my child. It is a love so intense that it washes out all the fear, uncertainty, and pain I went through. I know that I can overcome anything with the love that I possess. This dream is not only about becoming a mother—it’s about becoming their mother. The kind of mother who loves wholeheartedly, the kind who loves them loudly, as well as the one who watches them as they grow, with pride and joy, knowing that I gave my all to give them a life of quality. I want my children to grow up knowing that they are forever loved and cherished and that they are put into this world with a purpose and never by accident. Of course, I am aware that I am too young to bear children of my own at this age. I will of course avoid participating in such acts and instead work my way to success in preparation for the family that I am going to build, and when the time comes, at least I'll know that I did everything I could to prepare for that moment.

I am burning with the great desire to become a mother, to share my love with my children, and to have a legacy that stands as evidence of love passed on to generations. This is not just my ultimate dream—this is what I was meant for; this is my purpose.

#motherhood #yearning #purpose

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary415

11/12-13/24

tuesday-wednesday

oddly reflective, right now.

listening to this:

while possessed by the mood, i guess i will just gogogogo:

watched zahedi's sex addict film, then watched his film where he does drugs and is possessed by god. then i listened to some of a podcast with his ex, kathy, about someone who died they both knew, kathy said something, tearfully, about wanting people to put themselves out there, authentic or inauthentic, she was pleading, put yourself out there, put yourself out there. i started thinking about my life, the ways i am, up against what people i know are like, for instance, i know people obsessed with carving out their subjectivity, always trying to make space for themselves. i remember as a kid, i was depressed, standing in line at school, i swear it had to be winter, the trees must have been naked, the way it felt, it was like that, i hope at least. i was depressed but i was thinking, it felt ugly to feel that way, to be so sad, i think about the life i had to deal with due to my stepmother, i worked my way through some thought which lead me to a conclusion which was:

i am unspecial, profoundly, as i think this thought, there is at least one other feeling precisely the same thing, if not precisely, it's close enough, and through time, i am only converging with well trod ground. this isn't bad, but there is nothing unique.

i was a child then of course, i believe now in some uniqueness, or at least, it is yours, whatever is in you, and you feel it, it is distinct, you speak it differently, there are many parameters on the subjectivity you move through (lyrics of the song coming into the writing, how odd (not odd, normal)), anyhow, ultimately, i don't really think i am special, or, everyone's basically special in a way that flattens out, it's hard for me to assign importance to myself, i think basically a lot of stuff is a kind whatever, if this makes sense. all my historical particularities, even as i outline them here, what would the point of this be in conversation unless asked? that's what i started thinking, i guess. that people do it in conversation, defend themselves, develop themselves as something, i remember as a kid, doing things like that, saying while playing games, pointing at some image, while playing, i am this thing, yeah, imagine me this way. that was stupid, of course, sometimes it feels similar. is that mean? i don't know. i don't disbelieve in people establishing or describing themselves, but sometimes, if that's all at one's disposal, it feels flimsy, it's not activity, really.

it's all strange, the thoughts on subjectivity, as ultimately, i guess, more than any points regarding special-ness, it's just that there's always someone else, other people experiencing some pain, and too there's others reading you, experiencing what you put forth. this is where zahedi's perspective comes off truly insane, to me, where you make this effort to extract yourself from the intersubjectivity and fact that others will be dealing with what you say and do, how you say it, essentially i just want to be sensitive to everything else, caveh is only a instrument that articulates and reads himself out. if this makes any sense.

concurrent to this, i began thinking about how blessed i am to have a rather still life, to not be someone who has these urges, some seem to have, some people i know, to fuck their lives up, cheat, that kind of thing. having known so many people who try to experience things that are extreme or are of grave importance, or to well up important things, to create conditions for art or whatever, i know people like that, it only seems to lead to very bad things, this romantic notion that only from misery and pain beauty will emerge, this way of soothing the fact of suffering into something to be 'used', essentially turning it into an object of value, to clean of it all abject properties. it's bizarre. i feel really lucky that i can sit here and not want to cheat on my partner even though i do wish i could sit on a dick sometimes or whatever. it's strange how it doesn't need to leave the space of thought, while for others i know they end up needing to cheat for reasons like, his penis is bent, or, i need to be in a poly relationship because of whatever and whatever. i don't know.

i don't mean to gloat, in part, what makes me think about all this, is also the fact that most of the people i'm talking about are 'creatives' or people who want to be artists, and so this is some way of scrounging up something to write about. certainly, i can go out of my way to try and see things maybe normal people wouldn't, it's never so much about interfering with the things in my life that mean the most to me though. it's going out to see people, things, staying out a while, matching energy in a room or confronting it or something, seeing what happens then. i've said it multiple times i guess, there's points where i imagine myself as a cruel object traveling in space, a knife or something, i know it's silly, mostly, also, only feeling this way when i'm holding a camera, so using the camera as a way to tear a hole in wherever i am. everything about writing, is less about... well you can make anything up, you develop your ability to invent or see from your own life, via observation, what's around you, what happened to you. i do try to write what i know, often, but what you know can distend in strange ways the more you think on it.

i really do not want to come off haughty, it's just so strange, i guess, because i have this daily autobiographical thing and i started it less to document my days but instead to help me focus, have better memory, keep thoughts in some sense, and pick up threads i leave behind a little better, ensuring the continuation of thoughts/ideas, to get pieces of writing even, and it makes me feel good that i don't have a life worth reading about, days are maybe a little monotonous, i just sit on the floor mostly, inside. my life is fine, no incredible drama here really, whenever there is drama, i spend time reeling. i guess a couple times here i have traumatized myself, or maybe only once, that was really terrible and it still makes me feel sick. it's just all very strange i dunno. i always say that. it's just hard to think through. my life is a tiny thing, it pleases me i may hold it in my palms, i have all these other things to think about, focus on.

i did say, earlier, watched that zahedi movie. i was compelled to write a review on letterboxd so here that is:

when he describes d's cancer, her eventual death, i was choked up with a feeling i don't often get, real and abject hatred, i wanted to see his throat slashed, briefly. i suppose he knows you might feel that way toward him, so quickly following their argument in the cab, through the whole film the point seems to be, somehow eluding caveh, that he has hardly seen himself and what he does, despite his whole mode of being an attempt to communicate himself clearly. it's interesting that you can see in his filmography, that this has never changed. or maybe i'm wrong, or something. ultimately i don't feel right to have found him so disgusting, it makes me feel dirty i guess, or stupid, more like stupid, a more plain and quotidian feeling, the way bulls feel about matadors i suppose.

his 'honesty' remains interesting, i don't put it in quotes because i find it to be a lie, i just don't think he realizes that he seems to employ it against people and for reasons, it's always in use, it's never as free floating as he'd wish, either he is navigating every interaction with others on grounds which are impossible, or he is trying to manipulate things, so subtly it's out of his own view even, to make him look okay, never perfect, just okay, understandable, some idea of human. he seems terrified, perpetually, he seems to describe himself that way too. i worry that basically everybody is like this, including myself, for that reason his work becomes interesting as the ultimate example of self-blindness.

maybe that's wrong too, there's a sense of knowing in the arrangement of the film. i don't know, ultimately, i can't tell. the bit about orpheus and the sirens, at the end, is incredible though for how it feels like he totally misses the better points one could get from all the things he says. he lives his life in a mode of self defense. but the effort at the reflection, the way the film wounds itself to show you him asking someone who says she doesn't want to and isn't comfortable with doing a simulated blowjob scene "can you do it anyways," it's like he knows, or should.

oh well.

it really does make me feel dumb, how bothered i was by him.

another thing, in that podcast, his ex kathy, much younger than him, at one point he begins explaining how he isn't over her, to her, something about a very old man feeling that way came off as crazy to me, not lamenting lost love, even the age gap one can deal with more maturely than being bothered by that, it was just how teenage his emotions came across. i hope i am never at that point, being that way, at that age. that would really require i fuck up somehow, in a massive way, though, i think.

i started working out and washing my face, lost some thoughts i was having about all this sort of stuff. one was the ways we work through spilling our guts online. in general, i hate the idea of deleting stuff, as time goes on though, as i change more and more, it's not that i don't forget or want to forget ways i have been, i would like to remember any of the ones i hate so i can never be that again, but there is also, if i was younger, sometimes no point in leaving those things. it's not even about being politically wrong in the past, just ways of articulating oneself, you know. at what point should is one responsible enough to document their own life, or write it out, if i started writing it like this sooner maybe i would have, i don't know, developed faster? better? at the same rate i wouldn't want to be tied to those things moreso than i am, i already am somewhat tethered to things like being called "slugboy" online in places even though i am not really a boy anylonger, and in that past of how i talked maybe there's more boyishness or something or you'd read it into how i speak, and thus i am something that in my life through which i locomote with legs/thighs/muscle i am really not perceived as i think. it's strange, it creates things i am now in the position of having to navigate. this is life, it is always like this by some degree, but when we are say documenting feelings, articulating feelings, if there are points in the past that failed, i guess it's acceptable to try again, when one is more mature. but that maturity is not really thought about it feels like.

also, my mind wanders to this one thing a friend did, years ago now i believe, he silently turned his camera on in vc, he joined silent and remained silent, he was shirtless, he worked out in front of us, lifting himself in his doorway, behind him the livingroom? or some sliver of other room, hallway, cutting it off. he walked then, carrying us, through the halls, into his parent's room. showed us the pictures of his family, him there only in one, i swear, something like that, more family photos, his older brother, petting his dog, talking to her, not us, working out on the bike. then he was on his bed, talking to us, looking down, he kept saying, i'm showing my age, pointing his face down, staring at what few lines appeared, i'm not so young anymore, things like that. i'm constantly moved by this, the strangest piece of art i've seen anyone birth i think, some illustration of his everyday, just for my friend and i. no one else saw. i can't explain why. my friend and i felt like crying, was one crazy thing about that.

i worked on the song more, today, also, tried to make it sound 'right,' i hate how my mind works, with this kind of thing. i feel rather stupid from it.

other things, i started 2 more drawings, instead of just 1, because i wanted two different head shapes. i'm so oddly fixated on that. it feels like a sticking point, i guess, because i do like the idea of drawing different looking people. anyhow, i just have the redline stuff figured out on them mostly, need to do details on them tomorrow/get them 'inked' i suppose. then i'd start coloring. the thing i was working on before, that one feels difficult, i don't know where to go on it! i sort of wonder, if maybe i should go somewhere rather strange and abstract with this thing piercing the lower half of a torso basically, some strange non-thing, instead of a like, thing, i guess, then maybe i can do some stuff over top of that non thing that makes the thing it's stabbing, basically come off as interacting with that abstract region of pain. this seems like a very good idea. it's also been something i've been thinking about a lot, not necessarily the 'how' as in the act of how to achieve the effect but how to work in more abstract things into these more uhm, figure-y drawings i guess, more expressionistic and strange things. it'd be hard to make it look good i guess, when it's hard to get the texture of paint down but i want to mess with color and shape and see if i can develop a way. pixels are sometime surprising in what they can do.

also inching nearer to finishing this rather insane book, from evenson. i feel he really must have grown after this one, as a writer, again not because it's bad but more because it's so obvious, you know. it really is the pedophile preacher book. it's very unpleasant!!

i should sleep now, i didn't expect to be up to 1 am almost!

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[tiredelirium]

D.4

What is it that closes the gap between strangers to make them more than that? Is it just common ground? Some similar ambitions? Or perhaps a shared pain? It may be all of these aspects combined. I wouldn’t be the one to answer the question.

Perhaps interacting on a daily basis is all it really takes. I feel that was the majority of my early friendships. We were friendly because we went to the same school and that was kinda it. There were very few of them whose homes I visited, who visited my own. Very rarely if ever did I hang around after school, be it primary or secondary.

I had other things to do.

Things to draw. Books to read. Games to play. Shows to watch. Words to write.

Hobbies are hobbies, but to share those hobbies with others is something else entirely. It’s a level of intimacy thats scary to begin. To take that first step of mentioning that thing you do for fun and hoping there’s no judgement from the other side.

That fear stops me from being open and honest. It’s a fear I think I got from having too very loud, very extroverted, older sisters. Trying to speak up was hard, and because they were older they often didn’t seem to care for any opinion you could give them on any subject.

At some point or another, when it seems even the people you should trust most don’t seem to care what you say, you kind of stop trying.

I’ve been told by many people- teachers, friends, strangers -that I’m quiet. My voice is hard to pick up on when I do speak at times. Though I’d like to think i’ve improved in that regard, many times I find myself in the company of my family not trying.

Dejection is an easy trap to fall into. Self doubt is a curse. Everyone’s voice and opinions have weight and should be heard, even the terrible ones. Without hearing those voices, we can’t judge for ourselves what is truly right and what is truly wrong.

We can’t learn and grow as people. I know this. And yet still I feel stagnation. Constant limbo and indecision, and apathy toward improvement.

There are things I want to do. Yet I can’t bring myself to do them.

Motivation is a dawn that blinds and makes you feel like you can’t follow through on the things you want.

When that dawn passes and your sight returns, the distant goal is swallowed by the dark. You don’t know what you were trying to accomplish. You don’t know why you wanted to try so hard. Ambition is a drug that sours in the face of apathy. Passion burns hot enough to hurt you.

What good is a friend when you can’t even befriend yourself?

I don’t know if there’s any point being made in any of these diaries, these journals, these entries, I’m putting together. Maybe someone else can see the things I’m missing, or can find their own answers in the words I type.

One of my favourite songs is romantic and has the line;

“if this warmth disappears, i’ll travel the universe”

Such a lyric could be straightforward, an analogy, a promise, a passing statement, a declaration, or any number of things to any one individual.

To me it’s a wish.

That no matter what transpires, I’ll still be able to go on.

I just wish I weren’t alone, in the end.

[snarkythewoecrow]

I was a bit... bristly last night, I'll admit, possibly a tiny bit grumbly when I initially hammered out my response, but @harleythealter has definitely made a much more eloquent response than me which I totally agree with

And really, weirdly, or maybe not, this post did chafe at my psyche for hours after I reblogged, and resulted in me searching myself for why it got under my skin

it did lead to some thoughts on the repetition of themes and tropes in my writings on the topic of abuse and how they have been beneficial to my recovery, which I wrote about in this post last night

but also, circling back to what Harley said, regarding the exaggerations and implications of elements in abuse fics, making them appear unrealistic to some, I really relate to that in many ways, I think magnifying a detail and exploring it or using it like a metaphorical punching bag can be really great, as you can't do that in real life, it's allowed me to explore through the lens of exaggerated reactions and emotions, mechanics that otherwise were hard to see and explore

now, one other thing, which I think is very important to remember, not just do we not know, nor have a right to know, the status of a writer, whether they are a survivor or not, but we also need to have compassion and remember that in regards to survivors who are writing this subject, we have no idea where they are in their journey or what they need from writing this topic, or where their skill level is

seriously, if 17 odd years ago, when young me, fresh from putting my husband in prison for felony abuse, left with three small kids and no idea how to put my feelings together in any logical order, who tried fanfic, both reading and writing to make sense of things--if that me had seen this post? well, here's the thing, that me, that me was insecure and scared and hadn't found my feet, let alone a spine, and I took everything to heart, because why wouldn't I? I had been abused.

So if young me had seen this, back when I was writing some shit that this post railed against doing, even though I had very much been abused and was only trying to grasp at straws to find some sanity and comfort? well, I would have curled into myself and stopped writing, believing I had fucked that up, too, and wasn't any good

you know, like an abuse victim would do

and I think this post had my teeth itching because I would hate for someone in the shoes I had been in to get their confidence shaken and lose out on a tool like fanfic just because they didn't think they were doing it right

There are a lot of abuse and recovery stories out there in fandom.  A lot of them are written by people who’ve never been in an abusive relationship.  That’s fine, that certainly doesn’t mean you can't write it, especially when it’s present in canon.  Unfortunately, it does mean that a lot of people get it wrong.

The usual abuse narrative you see in fandom is a story about absence.  The lack of safety.  The lack of freedom.  The lack of love, or of hope, or of trust.  They try to characterize the life of an abused kid, or an abused partner, based on what’s missing.  They characterize recovery based on getting things back: finding safety, discovering freedom, and slowly regaining the ability to trust–other people, the security of the world, themselves.

That doesn’t work.  That is not how it works.

Lives cannot be characterized by negative space.  This is a statement about writing.  It’s also a statement about life.

You can’t write about somebody by describing what isn’t there.  Or you can, but you’ll get a strange, inverted, abstracted picture of a life, with none of the right detail.  A silhouette.  The gaps are real but they're not the point.

If you’re writing a story, you need to make it about the things that are there.  Don’t try to tell me about the absence of safety.  Safety is relative.  There are moments of more or less safety all throughout your character’s day.  Absolute safety doesn’t exist in anyone’s life, abusive situation or not.

If you are trying to tell me a story about not feeling safe, then the question you need to be thinking about is, when safety is gone, what grows in the space it left behind?

Don’t try to tell me a story about a life characterized by the lack of safety.  Tell me a story about a life defined by the presence of fear.

What's there in somebody’s life when their safety, their freedom, their hope and trust are all gone?  It’s not just gaps waiting to be filled when everything comes out right in the end.  It’s not just a void.

The absence of safety is the presence of fear.  The absence of freedom is the presence of rules, the constant litany of must do this and don’t do that and a very very complicated kind of math beneath every single decision.  The lack of love feels like self-loathing.  The lack of trust translates as learning skills and strategies and skepticism, how to get what you need because you can’t be sure it’ll be there otherwise.

You don’t draw the lack of hope by telling me how your character rarely dares to dream about having better.  You draw it by telling me all the ways your character is up to their neck in what it takes to survive this life, this now, by telling me all the plans they do have and never once in any of them mentioning the idea of getting out.

This is of major importance when it comes to aftermath stories, too.  Your character isn’t a hollow shell to be filled with trust and affection and security.  Your character is full.  They are brimming over with coping mechanisms and certainties about the world.  They are packed with strategies and quickfire risk-reward assessments, and depending on the person it may look more calculated or more instinctual, but it’s there.  It’s always there.  You’re not filling holes or teaching your teenage/adult character basic facts of life like they’re a child.  You’re taking a human being out of one culture and trying to immerse them in another. People who are abused make choices.  In a world where the ‘wrong’ choice means pain and injury, they make a damn career out of figuring out and trying to make the right choice, again and again and again.  People who are abused have a framework for the world, they are not utterly baffled by everyone else, they make assumptions and fit observations together in a way that corresponds with the world they know.

They’re not little lost children.  They’re not empty.  They’re human beings trying to live in a way that’s as natural for them as life is for anybody, and if you’re going to write abuse/recovery, you need to know that in your bones.

Don’t tell me about gaps.  Tell me about what’s there instead.