#i made my digital media teacher cry

[ooc-themis-cattails]

Banned text

I went to the local library, and didn't actually find much I was excited about; the selection was so poor compared to Amazon. But of course there were a trillion copies of Fahrenheit 451, and I have like no memory of the plot, so I thought I'd go ahead and give it a read.

I read Fahrenheit 451 many years ago in high school (back in the 20th century), but I struggled to understand it the way I struggled to understand normal people. I was like Clarisse, except they made me go to school and didn't let me have any therapy for it. And I couldn't understand where the other characters in the book were coming from, or why they acted like automata or got trapped in their mundane lives, any better than I understood my classmates. But Clarisse was connected to nature and was a rejection of modern technology that had already taken over, while I was using technology that hadn't become a monster yet. And because of the "nature = good, technology = bad" theme that all the teachers very much wanted us to notice, I was mostly annoyed.

I was seventeen in the days of the very early internet, like some kind of settler in a digital wild, before social media existed. Every day I would want to get home away from the school social treadmill with its structured activities, and I'd go on the internet-- which was mostly text those days, all words, no videos, few photos-- and I'd talk to the very rare other teenagers who rejected their school lives and went on the internet to make friends with distant teenagers who didn't fit in like me, the uncool outcast kids who wanted to reach out and touch someone that wasn't swept up in their prescribed lives of social competition for peers' admiration.

Downstairs, my mother sat hypnotized by the glow of TV sitcoms, my father slaved away at the treadmill of capitalism, and I escaped through a thread of text, spinning out over the phone line and projected far away into the ether. My words like a cry into the darkness were finally sent somewhere meaningful, crossing vast distances of space to talk to other stars like me that burned, that did more than just orbit the culture that was fed to us without reaction, like a cold hard rock. The new technology that now traps people was, for me, a line of escape from that trap. I used computers to connect with other teenagers on the level I craved, one that made my classmates mock me for thinking and caring too deeply.

So when the experts insisted we all had to turn off our electronics and go out and touch grass, as if screen time were the destroyer of thought, I was so angry-- touching grass was part of what the mass majority was doing with their sports and their school dances. What was digital and abstract and "unreal" to them was my lifeline to my friends, to the other rare kids like me out there, so scattered and few, who actually thought and lived.

Now I get it, now that the world has changed and everybody's online using the internet just like they used the TV and everything else. But at the time it was being presented to me (presented, of course, by pop culture that had digested it, memetic associations and symbolic settings that had filtered into other media) as a bunch of false equations: "Technology =/= reading, or sharing deep ideas. Technology =/= real contact with real people. Face-to-face contact, and nature, are inherently more deep and connecting than any use of technology." These were the opposite of my experience. But they were formulated by people who only dimly understood the book's concerns: people who vibed with its insight that the experience of life was easily lost in the hypnotic content delivery of entertainment, but didn't have its insight as to why. The formula was then blindly taught by concerned parents and schools and other adults who thought themselves wise, to keep me away from the internet, which was my lifeline out of the endless prescribed cycle of school and work and the expectation that I would make money and marry and have children and do the same thing to them.

Go to school, move out and live on my own, go to work, select a partner, produce another generation that will do the same. It seemed so painfully meaningless, like the point was just to keep going on with the program-- which, of course, included plenty of activities that were supposed to involve enjoying the outdoors. Amusement parks, the beach, travel, hiking, all these things were prescribed for our health, so we had to go and labour at them (away from my precious internet connection with other distant misfits who actually connected with me).

I'm allergic to grass. If I sit in it my eyes and nose will stream with so much water and mucus that I can't even focus on anything other than my itching and distress. "Go out and touch grass" means anything to me but "pay attention to the world around me"; it means to be unable to focus on anything other than the overwhelming concerns of my bodily function, to feel unwell and trapped in my meatsuit, and unable to see. "Go out and touch grass" meant "obsess over your meat trap, like you're supposed to do." I wanted to dissolve into a stream of digital truth and escape my physical confines. Being a person didn't mean living in my body (my teenage desirable girl's body, precious currency of social attention, with its nascent disabilities just strong enough to make physical life unpleasant.) It meant being out of my body, being pure consciousness, focusing on meaning and, yes, emotion, physical as those chemicals actually are; being allowed to choose and guide my attention, and to care about whatever I wanted, and not distill all of the meaning of living down to the officially "healthy" program that society had selected for me.

Yes, the internet has become a hypnotic trap. But the problem isn't "screen time", the problem is when we use our screen time all wrong. Bradbury would have been happy to see that we participate with our own thoughts and use our own words, and that we constantly learn things we didn't expect to encounter. We're reading, and not only that, we're reading the thoughts and feelings of everybody, not just establishment-curated popular content. Unfortunately, a lot of those thoughts and feelings just echo the crap that's already been fed to us by school-work-society.

The problem isn't the medium, and the thing to be cherished isn't books. Before social media took over our lives, pundits were afraid that nobody would be able to read or write due to television. That did not turn out to be the problem-- we now read and write more text than anyone ever has in the whole history of civilization. The problem is that it's easy to turn off our brains and let content be delivered to us without any effort, rather than engaging with it by choice and direction. It doesn't matter whether we do that through radio, or TV, or the internet, or old dime-store comic books. Experts have finally stopped worrying that the next generation won't read, now that we see on twitter that text can be used to waste time just like anything else.

What concerns me is that we won't think about what we've read. That we won't digest it and think how it applies, or doesn't apply, to our lives. That we won't investigate for ourselves, but accept the word of the experts on whether engaging with it is healthy or not. That we won't look for whether it's true or untrue in our experience, but simply repeat it in situations that are superficially similar-- and then arbitrate whether it's healthy for other people by the metric of what they're looking at, not by what they choose to do with it next. Bradbury used the metaphor of a society that said TV was good and books were bad. The characters choose what to burn and what to broadcast for other people, what's good for society and what's bad for it, by judging the content that others take in, and making assumptions that it affects everyone a certain way. The mistake is in losing the individuality of how it affects everyone differently. Even Fahrenheit 451 itself instills caution in some people, self-satisfaction in others, misidrected paranoia in others, speculative wonder in others, and sleep in those who aren't interested in social issues.

The trap is not technology, but rather that we will only use it to do Normal things that we are Allowed to do. The trap is believing that certain media cause everyone who engages to have bad reactions rather than good ones, instead of treating each person as an individual case that could go either way. The trap is accepting that certain things are forbidden-- that we shouldn't read or think them at all, not even experimentally, not even long enough to know why, or whether, they are wrong. If we don't look at them because we fear they will harm us, we'll lose what they are supposed to do, which is warn us about the real harm. If we avoid content based on what the experts claim it will do to us, we will lose the engagement of those most interested in using tools in a healthy way. And if we shame, forbid or otherwise prevent others from engaging with the medium of their choice, then someone who would have actually needed it to step beyond their prescribed social boundaries will lose their lifeline.

[eroticcannibal]

This is pretty minor but it's something I still think about.

In highschool I had a teacher ask me to show him some of my drawings I had been working on. I was really excited because no one showed any interest in my art (not even my family) so I brought my sketchbook over and excitedly showed him the ones I was the most proud of. He just nodded along and then said "if you're able to spend all this time drawing then why isn't your handwriting better?" And I was just immediately crushed because I realized that he didn't actually have any interest in my art, it was just another excuse for a teacher to tell me how bad my handwriting is. My handwriting is also bad due to a disability that was undiagnosed for most of my life, the only reason I can draw is because it's something I do very slowly... If I want to write clearly I have to write so slowly that I wouldn't have time to finish assignments and wouldn't be able to keep up with in class notes, and often when I tried it would end up being physically painful. But my teachers never cared about that, they just made snide comments about how bad my handwriting is... As if I don't already know that. Now I'm always self conscious about my handwriting and I feel like I have to apologize to everyone around me for not being able to write.

Ngl I want to cry over this one. That is so fucking cruel. Getting someone's hopes up just to hurt them like that. The fuck

I do wish teachers would understand that art and writing are different skills. Pretty much every artist with shit handwriting i know has similar stories (tho this takes the top spot for the cruelty of it). I had a friend who's hand splints were stolen by a teacher because apparently my friend "lied" about her conditions because she could draw and not write. I dealt with so many nasty comments during school over it. My kid has been out of school since covid started and still cries over it. It used to do physical media but its too traumatised to even consider using a pencil or painting. Its exclusively colouring in books if its physical now (which took like 2 years to work up to), or digital media. I can count the number of words it has written in the past 2? years on one hand. I dont even know what happened. It can't talk about it. I just know that whatever happened has hurt it to the point of trauma.

[ajappendix]

Amanda Jane interviews Miah Marlow and Miss Moonstar

Miah Marlow introduces her Tumblr blog with a list that immediately reveals her to be multi-talented. “Gender-fluid, Digital Artist, Writer, Musician, Professional Organizer, Philosopher, Activist, Model, Humorist.“ Her partner, in every respect, he calls Miss Moonstar.  It is my pleasant task to interview this special and interesting couple whom many people know from social media. 

Amanda

Our past has much to do with our present so let's begin by delving into the past, before you met. Despite the wondrous childhood images our culture likes to promote, many do not have an enviable start in life to carry forward into adulthood. My first question to both of you is:-

”What circumstances, experiences and events of your early years do you feel greatly influenced the person that you are now?"

Miah

My Mother left when I was 3 years old. Two years later my Father remarried a woman who, with his assistance, tormented and abused my young life for the next 13 years. My early years are marked by insecurity, fear, shame, and pain. We were incredibly sheltered, and I had very little contact with my extended family for many years. One of my deepest memories is that of missing my Grandparents, whom I knew loved me very much. Sometimes, I even dreamt I was at their house, and when I awoke to find it not true, I would cry uncontrollably at the reality until I puked. 

The most influential memory of my life happened the night my Dad drove me to the store at the end of the road. I was 7 years old. He pulled the car over and said "You'll always be special to me, but from now on SHE has to be first. If not she'll leave us. You will call her Mom." It was the day my Dad lost his spine, and I lost my Dad. I hate to start so negatively, but this is the truth. When I was old enough for them to leave me home alone, around 11 or 12, I began to create the earliest incarnations of what would become my gender fluidity. There is no question that being ruled by a strong, evil woman, and a weak spineless man, led me to be confused about where to find role models. So, I went deep into my own mind and made my own special place, and accompanying version of myself, galaxies apart from the me I showed the world. It would be a lifetime before I would reconcile the two. 

Miss Moonstar

Growing up as the youngest and the only girl in a home with all males and no mother or female role model was confusing and difficult but, it was also a lesson in strength and intelligence. I was already "different" than all of the other little girls around, with my dark complexion and my "strange" features. Add in being raised in a home full of only males and no mother, and that was a recipe for the perfect weirdo. I had a great father, who back then, was the wisest and most resilient person. He taught me to find solace and knowledge in the the earth, the water, the sun, the moon, and the nonhuman creatures. And books. So those were my friends, my teachers, and my counsellors for most of my young life. Making human friends as a young person proved to be almost impossible because in a small, conservative, 99.99% white, Christian town where ANY outsider is unwelcome; the mothers of the little girls don't trust a strange darker girl who does not have a "good god fearing mother to tame the savage out of her" (I actually heard things like that growing up), not to mention I literally had B cups at age 9, and that is a heavy accelerant for ignorant, insecure, small town women .....So I think as I matured into a young adult, these things helped mold me into being as disarming as possible because I just wanted women to see me, to like me, to understand that I'm one of them. These things probably played a role in me being insecure with my body image for most of my adult life, as well. The same experiences also taught me to be stoic, to never stop educating myself, to embrace my intelligence, to understand my power, and to never wield them for wicked reasons. To remember that no living creature is more valuable than another. And to recognize the internal beauty in the rare and unique people that the earth puts in my life.

Amanda

Both sad and at the same time beautiful answers. I think it has taken a long time for the social sciences to recognize the significant impact of our childhood years on what we become as adults, especially the first four years of our “formative years” (birth to 8yrs). 

Miah, “At what age did you realize that you were different from those around you, and begin to question where you fitted in the narrow binary gender view of the time.”

Miah

I mentioned that I began dressing feminine in secret around age 11. Up until 16, I was certain I was unique in this behaviour, and I certainly thought I was doing something wrong. I had no idea there were others like me, until finally, one day my mind was opened to a whole different world. Remember, this was 1991. There were no smart phones and being "online" was not quite universal. So, as a 16 year old wanting, no, needing porn, I had to turn to the medium of the time, magazines. Club Magazine to be exact, because it had penetration pics. I only had one copy stashed away in a secret spot, and since many of its pages were stuck together, I often found myself gooning to the back pages, where the 1-900 numbers were advertised, along with ads for other interesting publications and VHS tapes. This is where I saw what my immature mind could only describe as a chick...with a dick! She was tall, and skinny, with tiny, if there-at-all boobs, long brown hair, and a boyish yet beautiful face, advertising something called “Shemale BDSM”. I immediately fell into the fantasy of wondering about her, imagining how she came to be, and ultimately, being her. From that day forward, I never stopped imagining myself as a feminine thing, destined to someday flourish as I wanted. This was the moment I realized that boys could be girls, and maybe I was one of them. 

Amanda

Miss Moonstar, a slightly different question to you. “Growing up in a male environment and shunned as 'different' by the mothers of girls with whom you could have been friends, did you ever question your gender or did you always firmly feel that you were female?”

Miss Moonstar

For a long time, I didn't understand that the reason that I was "different" was because of my ethnicity and my over developed young body. I thought that it was because I was some form of weird boy. It's a strange explanation but, I was in a home with only boys, I did all the same things that boys did, I played with boys, I wore my brothers' "hand me down" boys clothes, I liked the same things as boys liked so therefore, I must be a boy. The day that I truly started to understand that I might not be exactly the same as my brothers and father was when, my dad walked by the bathroom and I was in there going pee, with the door open; my dad asked me what I was doing and I told him I was peeing. He asked me why I was standing up, over the toilet. I just always assumed that was how you went pee. That was how my brothers and my father did it, so why wouldn't I? My dad took me for a long walk that day, explaining to me the physical biological differences between boys and girls, as well as many other things. After that day, I kind of started to rediscover my body, feeling and knowing that I had something different than all of the boys and in my mind, that made me special. I was still very young and had much more to learn and understand about my sex and gender but, the pivotal events of that day subsequently began my journey to embrace my "femaleness" and my femininity. I still have many "masculine" personality traits but, I know that I was absolutely meant to be a woman and, even though womanhood can have it's negative and sometimes scary moments, I would not trade it for  anything. 

Amanda

A question for you both. “What kind of life were you leading just before you met? How did you meet? What attracted you to the other? Was the start of your relationship one of slow growth or was it quite sudden?”

Miah

I was beginning a new life when I met Miss Moonstar. Two years prior, I got divorced. I had lived with my then wife and her two children for 6 years. When I look back on it, I think it was my last ditch attempt at having a "normal" life and shutting out the girl inside who had caused me so much trouble. I struggled with the sexless relationship, but found personal growth in the raising of two boys. I never wanted kids of my own, but I got to teach them decency, and logic, and compassion, and I got to coach baseball. Sadly, I secretly found my feminine time through it all, until I could go no further. When I lost a job, she kicked me out. We tried to remain friends for the sake of the kids, and I finally told her my secret.

I had been doing some serious soul searching the past year since being kicked out. I was getting tired of hiding and lying, so I made the decision to come out in my city. My relationships were suffering, especially the one I had with my Grandpa, as he never could never quite understand me, because I was never honest. I had to set myself free. So, I told him, and my boss, and my few friends, and my ex step kids, and began my transition from secret crossdresser to gender-fluid girl. It was a whirlwind of a time, all culminating in an epic night out at a local bar, where I would make my hometown debut. I had some new friends who would accompany me, and one of them was a young lady who you have come to know as Miss Moonstar.

I could write for a year straight and still not address the scope of Miss Moonstar's arrival in my life. I was literally done with relationships. I planned to be a bachelor forever, taking lovers and being a sex Goddess until I died, when my friend Dawn introduced us. What I remember from that moment is often a blur, but I do remember a very specific feeling that overtook my body as she and I spoke. Nostalgia. Even though we had never met before, I knew this person. She was one of my kind. In fact, the last time I felt this way upon meeting a woman was my college days when girls and guys weren't all that different, just young humans with big dreams. One of us would say something and our eyes would meet and we would laugh in our minds together. On day one! My attraction was instant. My knowledge of her felt reliable and certain. Yes, she was beautiful,  yes, she was sexy,  yes, she was charming, but it was her softness  and intelligence that ultimately won my heart, as no one had ever used such a gentle hand with me, or a thoughtful approach, ever. Still, to this day, her soft love and understanding is unrivalled in my life, and one of the main reasons I'll try to keep her around forever.

I think we were dying to jump into an intensely heated affair, however, do to my gender fluidity and her metered approach, we took our time and tried to go slow. Soon enough, however, we were inseparable and have been ever since.

Miss Moonstar

About 2 years prior to meeting Miah=Jer, I had suffered a miscarriage at around 21 weeks. I cannot accurately articulate the feeling of that loss. To lose someone that I had loved so much but, that I would never be able to meet, was one of the most profound tragedies of my existence. While I was unconscious, the nurses contacted my romantic long term partner/father of my child, as standard procedure but also, so that I would not be alone when I came out of the anesthesia. When I awoke, the nurses gently informed me that my partner would not be coming. Since I could no longer be a vessel for his child, I was no longer a viable partner. I was a failure in every definition of the word. I spent the next almost 2 years grieving, searching for answers in every pocket of the world, and rebuilding myself. I had come to the conclusion that I deserved to love myself and that the only people who deserved to be in my life, were the people who encouraged and supported me loving myself. I also had decided that I was not going to have relationship partners ever again. Male and female lovers but, no relationships. Before I would embark on being the world's greatest womanizer and seductress though, I was introduced to Miah=Jer, through my friend Dawn. This person was physically the most beautiful human that I had ever seen, on both ends of the masculine/feminine spectrum and everything in between. However, when I sat down and started to talk to this person, I felt like I was finally home. I had always wondered what the feeling of "coming home" was. I never felt like I had ever been "home". Not with my family, not in the place that I grew up, not in any state or city that I had lived in, not around any humans. But this person, this strange feeling that was both foreign and more familiar than anything I had ever felt, this was exactly where I was supposed to be. We started our conversation that night and for the next almost four years, haven't stopped. The attraction was cerebral for me. Of course he has endless physically attractive traits but, I love Miah's intellect the most. I love that Miah is much more intelligent than me, I love that there is no topic that is off limits, I love his constant quest for knowledge, her never ending thirst for learning. And his patient, gentle approach to all of my crazy idiosyncrasies. I also have a dark, twisted, sick sense of humour and Miah is the only person that I've ever met that can go toe-to-toe with me on that. Because we both were in a place in our lives where we refused to keep hiding our true selves and, couldn't continue to pretend that we weren't total freak shows, we both needed to build a safe space for each other, so as much as the feeling of "home" was sudden, we slowly nurtured and grew our relationship. As ridiculous and cliche as it may sound, Miah=Jer is my soul's recognition of it's counterpart. Miah=Jer is the love of my life and I will love him for as long as she allows me to, but I will start with forever. 

Amanda

What wonderful answers both of you have given. So powerful, so touching. What an irony that two people, both sworn to lead single lives, should meet and almost immediately know they had just met their soulmate. It is a rare and special story, well worth telling. So many yearn to meet the “right” partner and have not. Let’s hope such readers will be encouraged by your stories.

Now that we are up to the present, it is time for a standard question for you both. “What age are you now, where do you live and what do you do to make a living.”

Miah

I'm from Ithaca, NY, I'm 46, and I have a unique arrangement from which I obtain resources. I've been demonized by some family members for this lifestyle, but I wanted to be honest with you all. Coming out as genderfluid hurt my career path a bit. If you think poorly of me after reading this, well, fuck off.

I care for and work for my Grandpa. I manage his life and his business. He's 89, and he requires assistance in almost every area of his life. Some of that is personal care and daily needs like food, various appointments, his finances, and his medical needs. But, it also entails acting as property manager for his apartment building, and rental agent when an apartment becomes available or a tenant has needs. I also maintain the property physically and do the building maintenance. I do this because I'd be dead without my Grandpa, and he was abandoned by his immediate family when his wife, my Grandma, died. He saved me numerous times in this life, and it is only right I repay his love with love in return. Both Miss Moonstar and I have promised him that we will be here until the very end so that is what we will do. This work I do amounts to anywhere from a demanding part time job to a full time job depending on the week, but we have our own house on the same property, food and necessities, and some of the rent I generate becomes mine. I supplement this by working for another elderly person in town in a similar assistant capacity. This is how I get by. I definitely did not expect to be doing this at 46, but loyalty has its price, and its rewards. It's no secret Miss Moonstar and I will inherit this place when the saddest day of my life comes, and it will help us take care of each other moving forward. I hope some of you will still be here for me then. I probably won't know what to do with my grief.

My career is not over though. Many people do not create their legacy until the second half of their life. I fully intend to pursue my dreams as long as I'm alive. I'll probably find my way back to a non profit agency where I can use my law degree for some good, and I definitely plan to add 'published author" to the list of things I've done. Heck, I could still get a record deal. Crazier shit has happened. 

Miss Moonstar

I'm 39 years old. I now live in Ithaca, New York. For a good chunk of years I was a pastry chef, before and after I graduated culinary school. I earned my associate degree in social sciences with the intention of pursuing my B.Soc.Sc in sociology but, the culinary dream had already sunk its teeth in me. After graduating culinary school in New Orleans, I stayed there and continued my career as a pastry chef. I spent some time doing that in various other cities and states until I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. At that juncture, I knew that I needed to make some serious life changes so, I did. I attained my B.Soc.Sc in sociology, and entered the world of social work. I finally found where I belonged when, a nonprofit that I connected with on a deeply personal level contacted me, offering me a position as a victim advocate for survivors of sexual assault and domestic violence. It has been one of the most humbling, heart wrenching, and necessary experiences that I have ever had.  

Amanda

What a talented and qualified couple you are. I cannot see why, Miah, anyone should think less of you. To put your own life on hold to assist your Grandfather shows that you are a person with moral and ethical values. Yes, there are advantages for you too, but for my own part, I applaud you for what you are doing. Miss Moonstar, from indirect experience I know something of the emotional strength and determination that it takes to be a counsellor to people experiencing heart wrenching situations. I know too how difficult it can be to find a balance of compassion and professional distance that does not burn you out of this invaluable but difficult counselling practice. I also know that arthritis is no fun at all and that you often have to deal with pain. You both deserve medals.

Miah, I know you have written about this several times on your blog, but for this interview “Please clarify what “gender-fluid” means to you and why you feel that the various terms crossdresser, trans, sissy etc do not correctly describe who you are?”

Miah

As the years have passed, my definition of my gender has changed yet I still use the same word, gender-fluid. I suppose this is simply because it's the most accessible word available, even though many people still don't know what it is. I'm gender-fluid in the literal sense, meaning my gender is fluid. While many people find themselves leaning feminine or masculine or in between, I am all over the spectrum depending on my mood or desire. Often times, this manifests as either the "girl" or "guy" me, which is sickeningly binary to me, but it is what it is. At least I can move on the spectrum as I wish. I think of gender as different from biological sex or sexuality. I still view myself as male, and my sexuality really has no bearing on my gender, or vice versa. 

The other words you mentioned either aren't strong enough to define me, or undermine me entirely. For example, the word crossdresser is a weak action descriptor. It merely says that one crossdresses, similar to how biker indicates one rides bikes. The word sissy adds a sexual element that is not always present in my regular behaviour, and also indicates that I might be submissive, embarrassed by what I am, or negatively influenced by the internet. None of these are true. Finally, transgender can never be the word for me because I do not claim womanhood. I think that is the essence of being trans, that one is the alternate sex from their birth body. I am simply not a woman, and one hundred percent biologically male. I claim femininity as a skillset and part of my gender, hence my reliance on the term gender-fluid. 

Amanda

Personally, I appreciate the nuance of the term gender-fluid as you describe it. The words gender and sexuality are not synonyms. I generally refer to myself as a cross dresser but I agree that all that term really implies is that I cross dress. 

Miss Moonstar, many women would balk at living with and loving a partner who presents as a male one day and as a female the next. “Can you describe how you feel about this and, by doing so, help other women to appreciate the possibility of doing likewise?”

Miss Moonstar

 First and foremost, I love Miah=Jer's gender fluidity and all of the different characteristics that it entails. Regardless of what end of the gender spectrum she presents as, he has the same heart, the same mind, the same emotions, the same voice, the same body, everyday. This was never something that I "needed to wrap my head around" or do any deep soul searching about when I Miah=Jer. Yes, I first met him when she was en femme but, the very next day we met for coffee and she was en masc. The familiar cerebral conversation, the relaxed nature, and the attraction did not change with the gender accoutrements.

Being with a man who knows that he is a man who, also knows that he has many genders is the most liberating and refreshing feeling that I have ever experienced. I've always been a pansexual woman, constantly seeking out something that everyone I knew told me did not exist. But it did exist, it DOES exist. Having a male partner who not only loves femininity and all of the different tangible and intangible layers but, who understands it, enjoys it, and LIVES it, is something that I will never take for granted.

I know that some people want me to say that during the beginning of our relationship, I was worried about; whether Miah would be "masculine" and "manly" enough for me, what people would think of me when they saw us together in public, if my friends/colleagues/family would approve of our relationship, how our sex would work, what do I say to people who question me about Jer and/or our relationship. The truth is this, in the same order that I listed the "thoughts": I did not consider her manliness or masculinity. His gender is fluid, her masculinity is always there, just as his femininity is. As far as his manliness goes, he is a man, he identifies as a man and when he needs or wants that manliness to be at the forefront, it is and, I don't get to decide either of those. No one has the right to decide his gender except Miah=Jer. I fell in love with her BECAUSE of her gender fluidity, NOT IN SPITE of her gender fluidity. I have never cared what people think when they see us together in public. If someone that I care about doesn't approve of our relationship, that's their problem, not mine. If you can't be seen in public with us, then you don't need to be seen by me, at all. I don't have time for that shit. If someone genuinely inquires about Jer or our relationship then of course, I explain what gender-fluid means, who Jer truly is inside, who I am, the beautiful love that we have, and why I'm the luckiest person in the world. And as far as our sex, I think everyone wonders what the sex will be like when they first enter in a relationship, regardless of the dynamic. I wasn't worried about Jer not desiring me, not because I'm arrogant, it was just pretty obvious that he desired me and my body as much as I desired him and his body. I don't need to go too in depth but, for the first time in my life, I feel sexually liberated with Jer. There is no judgment, no pressure, no weird expectations. We agreed from the beginning that sex is meant to be a joyful experience and, we encourage each other to free ourselves of our sexual insecurities. And he's a real hellcat in the sack 😉.

In light of all this that I said, the key to success to my relationship with Miah=Jer has been honesty from the very beginning. Honest with each other about who we are and what we want and, honest with our own selves. To the women who are considering entering into a relationship with a gender nonconforming male, I can try to offer some gentle advice; don't judge the person's sexuality based on their gender, they are two different things. Don't secretly try to devise some kind of plan to convince the person to mollify or allay their femininity. That's just shitty. Think about it, you would be asking a person to tear out a piece of the fabric of who they are. If I asked Miah=Jer to diminish his femininity, it would be the same as him asking me to whitewash the half of me that is indigenous. You can't simply "accept" that part of them as if it is some negative trait that you can "deal with" but, as long as they keep it to themselves. You embrace and you love the whole person or you stop wasting both of your time and you move on. It may sound harsh but, it's just the way it has to be. That person is sharing a part of themselves with you that they have had to hide and feel societal shame about for longer than you can begin to fathom. Just like you, they want to be loved completely, they want to be seen, and they want to shed the layers of secrets and stigmatization and degradation that our society has forced them into. Gender is such an innocent thing and yet, the world has bulldozed and browbeaten male humans into feeling that embracing their feminine gender is an errant and nefarious act. So, the last thing they need is you giving them a false sense of security by allowing them to finally open up to you, telling them you welcome them and approve of them and then, turning around and invalidating and undermining their existence.

Just be real with them, be real with yourself. Fuck society's bullshit narratives and judgments. If you think you will lose family and friends simply because you're in love with a gender nonconforming person, then you don't really have those family and friends to begin with. Anyone who abandons a person, who they purport to love unconditionally, entirely based on that person's partner's gender, doesn't actually unconditionally love that person.

What Miah and I have is something beautiful and special and I really am the luckiest girl in the world, however cliche that truth may sound. It is not something that other people could easily attain or maintain and I understand that. But, it is possible for anyone who really wants it and who is willing to nourish and cherish and grow it. 

Amanda

Miss Moonstar, I really do hope that those who read your answer will take your statements and advice to heart. No, loving only part of a person is not unconditional, nor is it truly sustainable.

Your blog describes you both walking, shopping and visiting places together (you have addressed the matter of public reaction in your blog at times). So, “Would you both tell us about your negative and positive experiences of typical public reaction to you as a couple, and how you felt about it both at the time and in general?”

Miah

The public reaction to us as a couple is entirely different from the public reaction to me when I appear alone. MM is a bulletproof vest for me. When we are together, we are rarely bothered by anyone. We have had a couple belligerent people try to invade our space, and gotten some strange looks from a passerby, but generally speaking, I don't think people dare approach us. Sometimes, I wish more people would come up and talk to us. I miss people. The protection, which MM exudes but doesn't purposefully project, can sometimes insulate me from the world. I am certain my presence does the same to her. However, I stray from the point. I think most of the public likes to see us, at least in our liberal city. Occasionally, someone is a little too excited to see us. For example, the other day a guy parked his truck backwards in a turnabout so he could watch us take pics at a park bench. He just brazenly gawked at us until we moved spots. When I drove by him, he smiled and waved to us. At this point, it is what it is. We may never be the couple who can come and go unnoticed, but for the most part, we both enjoy the thrill and we do our best to laugh at ourselves and remember we do what we do for joy. Haters are always gonna hate but you gotta get to the point where you don't register that. I think we are almost there. 

Miss Moonstar

For the most part, the public reaction seems to be positive, or at the very least, NOT negative. There have been a couple of times that I had to get gulley and let some redneck, hillbilly, TERF bitches know that I would bring the ruckus. They thought they were going to prevent Miah from using the bathroom. Miah is always so dignified and pleasant and shy so, she was trying to walk away and avoid making a scene. Normally, I would be the same way but, I completely lose my shit when someone fucks with Miah, especially women like that. They think she won't defend herself because she is a gender-fluid man and they are "women". So, I get a little crazy, say something totally inappropriate, threaten to bang their husbands, and they end up backing off......Other than those assholes, the public treats us pretty well. Men can get a little intense in their appreciation for us but, we take it in stride. Most women love us too. Miah has a commanding presence and most people respect her, even if they aren't sure of the dynamic. I think most times, people see her and then see me and wonder why she isn't with someone equally as amazing and beautiful as her. I wonder that too. Regardless, I feel lucky as hell to have her and to be treated so kindly by most strangers. 

Amanda

It is so interesting to hear that you are treated differently as individuals than when people see you as a couple. It surprises me that you have not had many unpleasant experiences. That says a lot for the progress of acceptance of those who are gender non conforming. 

This is a cheeky question you can answer together, but from your blog you sound like a fairly sexually active couple when so many couples seem to complain about their partner and not having enough sex. It is not easy to define 'sex' or quantify it, so for this question consider it to include any sexual activity engaged in as a couple. I can give you a choice of two typical questionnaire questions. "Together rate your level of activity on a scale of 1 to 5, 1 being inactive and 5 being very active." Or, to be more empirical, "How many times a month do you engage in sexual activity together?" 

Miah and Miss Moonstar

I'd say we have sex anywhere from 4 to 9 times a month. As with any couple, life will steal days from us occasionally. Someone may not feel well, we may be too busy, or and unforeseen event will stop us from coming together, but we never have an issue reinvigorating each other. The sexual space we have created is one of absolute non-judgmental joy seeking. It is one of the most free spaces we have ever entered. We are open about what turns us on, we have no insecurities about any aspects of our bodies or our sexual skills. We exhibit whatever feelings we may feel across the gender spectrum without fear. You can imagine that makes for a really fun experience where we can let go and just enjoy. We understand that sexuality is not static, so we try our best to facilitate each other's dreams and fantasies and it has been more than wonderful. We don't believe couples who say they screw every day. It's not about quantity, it's about quality and ultimately, having fun. 

Miah. I’ll add that a day never goes by where Miss Moonstar doesn't grab my ass and tell me how sexy I am, even though she's the real Goddess. I'm a very lucky guy.  

Amanda

In the light of what I hear on social media, I think you are both very fortunate to have each other as sexual partners.

Another question. ”With separate answers, how do you feel and how do you react when your partner is the object of coarse or crude comments and offers of sex online or in real time?” 

Miah

I get more of this online, while Miss gets more real life propositions. I think we handle this quite well, considering the crude way in which people show their love. It is, however, occasionally a mine field to navigate. I've made a point of making it grossly clear that I am taken, and in love, and not missing any lustiness in my life. I am also wildly flirtatious so I try not to lead people on. Over time, I've developed a kind of rule I follow when dealing with sex fuelled online friends. It's a one chance rule. I always forgive the first crudely worded or dick pic included message. I thank the person for their interest in me. I understand that people find me attractive and sometimes can't help themselves. I believe in the decency in people. So, I implore them to reconsider approaching me a different way, so we may be able to be friends. Often times, even someone who began with a dick pic will turn back into the good person inside once they realize I am much more than a sex object. Besides, being my decent friend online is the best and only way to get my reciprocal flirtation and the occasional salacious ass shot in your inbox. 

As for Miss, and the guys who come on to her: I do nothing. She's beautiful and sexy and I fully expect people to approach her. I also trust her to handle it, which she always does. I never feel insecure or mad that she gets love, or attention. I'm flattered, actually. Everyone needs attention and I'm glad she gets it. If anyone really crossed the line, I'd kick their ass. I'm still a 6 foot tall man. Come get some. 

Miss Moonstar

This is an awesome question and I probably should be ashamed of my answer, but I'm not. I could lie and pretend to be dignified but, I won't. The truth is, I love it when Miah is the object of people's sexual fantasies or desires. How could I not love it? I have my own dark twisted fantasies in which Miah is the main attraction. The difference is, I get to act out my fantasies with Miah, as others do not. Well, except for the occasional weekend when I need to make some extra money so, I turn her into a Red Roof Inn glory hole queen.......I'm joking, I do not pimp out the love of my life......I love that Jer has many admirers and fans. The only time that I am bothered is when he is bothered by it. If he truly feels uncomfortable or disrespected, then I try to comfort him and give him advice on how to proceed.......Miah gets a great deal of online (as well as some in real life, that seek her out online) admirers and mostly, we just laugh at the ridiculous things that people say because it is highly entertaining. 

Amanda

I think the strength of a relationship is shown by enjoying the fact that one’s partner receives attention. It shows trust and confidence. But, yes, if that line is crossed……Watch out!  Some of the things that anonymous admirers suggest they would do to us would test the skills of an acrobat, but they are certainly amusing. 

Before we move off the subject of Sex, I note that you have been asked before about your interest in the Chastity fetish. “Being largely ignorant about what motivates people to wear cages and be submissive to another person, would both of you like to comment on this subject for me?”

Miah

Since I have written extensively about chastity, I'll keep it brief. A chastity cage is a sexy novelty item to me. It's jewelry for my dick. It's a naughty game we play occasionally but it's not what you think. I'm not submissive unless I decide to be for a period of time. I don't hate my cock, nor has it become useless because of occasionally being caged. But, we are an open minded couple and the cage necessarily changes the sexual dynamic when it's being used. When it's on, I utilize a more feminine based sexuality and we enjoy that space until it comes off. Mostly though, I like to wear it us an accoutrement that helps minimize my bulge with certain clothing and makes me feel dreamily sexual all day long. So, yes, we enjoy chastity but I'm not a cuckold or a subbie, nor is Miss Moonstar a true Dominant. We are just an adventurous couple with a wonderfully safe sexual space. 

Miss Moonstar

My interest in putting Miah's dick in a cage and exerting dominance over him can pretty much be summed up with one word, followed by an overstatement of facts. That word is REPARATIONS.....Miah=Jer is white and I'm indigenous (biracial). Ya'll motherfuckers caged my people onto reservations and stole my land, so now, I get to steal your anal cavities and cage your dicks. Lock up your husbands and grandfathers ladies, I'm coming to cage their dicks and blow out their holes!!!.....too soon?.....too far?.... You're welcome.

Amanda

I somehow didn’t think you two were into dominance and submissiveness in any serious way. I get it now. Using a cage as another part of a repertoire of sexual experiences together makes absolute sense. Miss Moonstar, you have a wicked sense of humour, though with a tinge of understandable strong feeling. I envisage a myriad of white guys clutching their privates, tightening their anal sphincters and hoping not to be found in their hiding places. Retribution indeed.

Of all your talents, Miah, music stands out as appearing to be the most important, so let’s address that topic. My question to you is “What motivates you to express yourself in music and how long have you been composing? Is there a connection between your music and your sexuality?”

Miah

Music is my God, and my drug addiction. Seriously, music has helped me through the parts of life another person cannot. Music has soothed me, inspired me, healed me, and guided me all my life. I can't explain my connection to it other than to say it's otherworldly. When I was 18, my first roommate in college had an old acoustic and taught me the chords necessary to play “Wish You Were Here” by Pink Floyd. I've never been able to afford lessons so I just downloaded and printed tablature of my favourite songs until I learned to strum and properly form chords. I remember having the tablature for the entire OK Computer album and learning all those songs and the weird chords Johnny Greenwood used in that album. Eventually, I realized I also needed to learn to sing. In the same manner, I just hacked away until I figured out how to use my voice. It's taken years. I probably wrote my first songs in 1998. I played in a band in college where we played the songs I wrote, rudimentary as they were. Then, life happened and I stopped playing music for a decade at least. When I met Danie, all my passion for life returned and so did all my demons and fears, and those are what I write about. The trials and tribulations of an emotionally dense life. Mood music for the soul, if you will. 

You asked if my music was connected to my sexuality. Of course it is. Everything I do comes from my dicks' brain, in pursuance of the honey hole. I'm a man, after all. 

Amanda

Miah, that you taught yourself is really interesting. What an achievement. Yes, as a guy having two brains, it is always a struggle to know which one is motivating and making decisions on one’s behalf. 

Miss Moonstar, my question to you is “I am sure you are supportive of Miah’s musical talent, so would you like to comment on this area of life with Miah?”

Miss Moonstar

Yes, I love Miah's music, I really truly do....music is pretty much the sole reason that I did not become a homicidal maniac many many years ago. Without music to be my therapist every single day, I think they might have opened Alcatraz back up to incarcerate me for the heinous atrocities that I would have committed. I have known many different types of musicians throughout my life and many of them were either, just trying to make as much noise as possible without making much sense or, they were too interested in "acting" like a musician but never actually BEING a musician. I still always tried to find something true and positive about their art to encourage them. I love all kinds of music from Jackson Browne to Tupac to Nirvana to Buddy Guy to Stevie Nicks to Alicia Keys to Ani DiFranco and everything in between and outside of those artists, including and especially Greygh0st (Miah=Jer). I am completely tone deaf and I'm partially deaf in my left ear but, I fucking know great music when I hear it. That is me exhibiting my arrogant and narcissistic side and, I apologize for that. I've done that quite often in these questions and for that, I'm truly sorry. I can't sing or play an instrument or keep a beat but, I know when something is special, musically. My body hears it before my ears do....I don't love Miah's music simply because I love Miah. I have loved people before and could not love their music because, well, they sounded like Gary Busey hate fucking Rudy Giuliani while they both had third degree explosive diarrhea (you're welcome for that imagery, by the way). I love Miah's music because it soothes me, inspires me, humbles me, etc., because it makes me feel all of the emotions that music should evoke. Every song evokes a different emotion. And, like emotions, some of Miah's songs are easier to handle than others but, they are all valid and beautiful and important. I was so relieved when I knew that he wrote and made great music. I was also relieved when I realized that he wasn't interested in pretending to "act" like a rock star. He is interested in making music. He just truly loves his art. I love and am honoured to be able to witness and be part of his creative process. Creative processes can be difficult at times for various reasons. When Miah writes these songs, the lyrics are many times, from his own experiences, and from my own personal experiences. He has had to go to these emotional places that he has not visited in a long time, or he has to kind of "temporarily tour" my mind and memories. Those things can be a shock to the system. But, they are also worthy of being inspirational. They happened, we went through those battles, and as I have reminded him many times, we found our way back, and when we did, we found each other so, it's ok to leave it all out on the paper. As in, turning those hard experiences into beautiful songs, is the best kind of redemption and reclamation and the greatest way to honour the people we were and the people we became...I've never asked him to write a song about me, or him, or us. When he comes to me and says that he has an idea for a song, I've encouraged him to write it, regardless of the concept. I have always just kind of said, "trust your instincts babe, trust your own creative and emotional intelligence, you're the musician"....

I guess I'm just trying to say that Miah is one of the best lyricists that I've ever heard and her songs are from all different perspectives and different genres, so you would have to be quite an ignorant, dark hearted, fuck-show to not be able to enjoy at least ONE of them. On top of her profoundly keen and penetrating, intuitive lyrics, comes that magical melodic voice that has calmed the raging, thunderous storm inside of me that has the propensity to leave me lost at sea. A voice that has  galvanized me into taking my own power back. A voice that has brought me to my knees, with the realization that someone finally saw me, and still wanted to love me. A voice that is in my head as much as my own voice at times. A voice that is the perfect combination of sweet and savoury and tart. A voice that is impossible not to love. So yeah, I'm her biggest fan. He calls me his muse, but I just feel lucky that I get a front row seat to this magnanimous, multi faceted, beautiful soul.....plus I get to bang the singer, backstage after the show.

Amanda

Well, Miah, I knew music was important to you, but I see now just how much so. Miss Moonstar, what a powerful answer. I suspect that all amateur musicians would just love to have the support and motivation that you give to Miah. 

Interviews do get lengthy and I would love to go on exploring further, but it is time to draw this to a close. My last question is not likely to be an easy one to answer, the topic requiring you to look ahead, act as a futurist and predict the possible outcomes of vitally important but contentious issues in our society. I word the question a little differently for each of you. 

Miah, the attitudes and social mores of our culture seem to be gradually changing towards greater acceptance of the LGBTQ community, but much reluctance and hostility remains among the more conservative elements of our society. Both clerical and political elements are themselves conflicting on the matter, yet both camps exert much influence on the unfolding processes of acceptance and rejection. My question is "Given the sharp division between those whose thinking is "left" or "right", the assault on democracy and the preoccupation with more urgent issues such as climate change, mass migrations, and the threat of further pandemics and nuclear hostilities, what do you see for the near future of the slow trend for acceptance of the LBGTQ community and how do you feel it may affect you personally"?

Miah

I think it's important to look at the bigger picture but, when one looks from too far away, the problem can seem unsolvable and immense. The truth is, the world will never be a safe or fair place for any one type of person. Those are social ideals. The question we must ask is: are there enough quality spaces for us? Is the number of those spaces growing, and are the spaces themselves expanding? I think the current moment in time is one of growth, not suppression, as indicated by the many changing opinions about gender and race that have been seen in the past couple decades. That said, times of growth are always times of danger for the growing. We have to be strong and vigilant, while simultaneously rising above the fray. You want change? You have to be a part of it, even if it will only affect the future world. And, anyone can be a part of it by simply joining the discourse. My only prediction is that we will continue to struggle for a while, until the bullies are exposed as our biggest fans, or better, the very things they fear. Even the binary minded live in a spectrumized world, they just don't know it yet. (Yeah, I just made up a word.) 

On a smaller scale, I'd say the current definitions of sex, gender and sexuality have been muddled into a variety of all encompassing words meant to be identification markers but effectively amount to political and social positions. This is helping to create the divisive arguments ensnaring non binary movements around the world. We have given up trying to explain ourselves, and we defend that with a sense of entitlement that is, sadly, defining this recent generation of freedom fighters. One of the worst things a knowledgeable person can do to an ignorant one is to hide the truth. In order to be understood, one must first admit core truths, and in this world of counter spin, that is increasingly becoming harder. Every story now conveniently has another side. I think this is the main problem with social constructs like gender and race. We've given them such meaning, they now mean too much. To some they mean everything. I think it's time to dial that back and stop attaching such importance to the individual self. If I've learned one lesson in life it is that selfishness is the fastest path to ending up alone. My advice: learn to share. Your world will immediately be a better place. And, if you can't or won't explain yourself,  don't expect to be understood. 

As for me personally, I just keep getting up and living the new day. I don't give a shit what people think about me much anymore because there is just not enough time in the day. All I really have to do is live life until it's gone, and treat others right while I'm here. Just like the world issues you mentioned, I have always been a polarizing character and this has always surprised me. I know myself to be good, loyal, honest and just. I've never quite understood my detractors other than to chalk them up to what could be described as a intrinsic jealousy of my free swinging gender and sexuality, or anger at my inability to label myself as trans or gay or some other binary. Otherwise, I'm not sure how a person could hate my gentle soul. After all, like Bryan Adams said, "Everything I do, I do it for you." Including my music, so if you love me, please follow my YouTube and listen!!! 

PS Thank you all for taking the time and thank you Amanda, for the opportunity to share and for all the hard work you did preparing and executing this project. You are truly a shining light in this Tumblr world and I love you, girl.

Amanda

Miss Moonstar, you strike me as a woman who has strong opinions on many issues, and is prepared to be vocal about them. My question to you is similar to that which I have asked Miah but of a different focus. The question is "Given the ......what do you, as a female and a member of an ethnic minority, see for the near future of the "human rights movement", particularly those relating to ethnic and gender equality in our still male dominated society, and how do you feel it may affect you personally?"

Miss Moonstar

I think that the last four years shattered what little integrity the United States had left, in regards to the human rights movement. I am not blaming one person. I am blaming an ideal that brought people out of the woodwork to defend it. I think that it is going to take some time for us to bounce back from that. And ultimately, while there are more people now than ever who support equality and are fighting everyday for it, America never has been an equitable place for minorities of any race, gender, sexuality or otherwise. I don’t know when or why we tried to convince ourselves that this country was a haven of sanctuary. This is not a home for the free and this land was stolen from the brave so, I think that if we just admit these things to ourselves, we can begin to move forward. 

Pretending that this country treats everyone equally is a mistake, and the federal government is the biggest gaslighter of that flame. The first thing that needs to happen is; all of us people who are fighting for equality and rights need to stick together. We need to stop dividing ourselves. I can guarantee that the same people who think that there is no such thing as systemic racism or police brutality against Black people are the same people who think that everyone has a right to use American Indians as they see fit, that they are owned by everyone. Using “Indianness” for nationalist pride, for advertising strategies, as a Halloween costume, a sports team, for spirituality and self help advancement, etc. But when the Indigenous people try to explain how hurtful and dehumanizing it is to have their entire ethnicity mocked, these entitled people say that Indians are being too sensitive. They are good enough to be used in every possible way but not valid enough to have sovereignty or equality, or dignity.

And THOSE particular people who think that about Black people and Indigenous people definitely do not have any regard for the gender movement. They do not have any regard for anything that is not straight, white, and christian. So, instead of the LGBTQIA+ people on one side, the Black people on another side, the Indigenous people on another, the women’s rights movement on another side, other POC over on another side, instead of that menagerie of messiness and embarrassment, how about ALL of us on the SAME side? We need to stop shitting on each other, we need to stop acting like it is acceptable to hold someone else down in order to prop ourselves up. I see a lot of gender nonconforming white people who turn a blind, deafening silent eye in regards to POC. I hear people deny the truths of systemic racism and police brutality against Black/Brown people and, in the same breath, talk about how hard it is for Indiegnous people on reservations. Admitting how much Native Americans have been fucked over is cool but, admitting that Black people have been fucked over is a hard limit? Give me a goddamn break with that bullshit.

We all need to create a safe space for each other, we need to stop pretending that fighting each other is going to change ANYTHING. Fighting the establishment that wants us to fight each other is what we should be doing. Holding the guilty accountable, not staying silent. Too many people “don’t want to get involved”, because they think that staying “neutral” is peaceful and proactive. I have news for those people, 1.) you are already involved 2.) neutrality is no longer an option, not in these regards 3.) if you can stand by and watch a Black person be mistreated by the police, or see the huge number of Indigenous women who are missing or murdered, or watch women lose reproductive rights, or watch LGBTQIA+ people fall through the cracks and lose their entire livelihood in order to gain a fraction of efficacy...if you can stand by and see all that shit (and more) happen, and then look me in the eyes and tell me that you support all of those people but, you have to remain neutral; then you are NOT neutral. You made a choice, you are just too much of a coward to admit your choice. You are the establishment that we are fighting against and we do not want your superficial, complacent bullshit. 

If these things that I have said bother anyone on a deeply personal level, then I strongly urge them to look inward to find out why. I am not a hateful person, I only stand for equality and peace. Sometimes, you have to fight for peace and I prefer fighting with my mind instead of my fists. I have never once used physical violence in my life, but I have seriously considered throwing a bag of shit on Marjorie Taylor Greene’s hideous face. I am at a loss as to how to do that, though. How do I put Marjorie Taylor Greene into a bag and then take that bag of Marjorie Taylor Greene and throw it on Marjorie Taylor Greene? Talk about a fucking paradox.

PS Thank you to those of you who have supported Miah throughout the years. It brings me much warmth to know that she has so many beautiful souls in her corner. You are all some of the most special and unique humans on this earth and I am grateful for all of you. Shine on, you crazy diamonds!! 

Amanda

Those are both insightful and powerful answers to a difficult question. Miss Moonstar, your words, in particular, should be shouted from the rooftops.

Well, Miah and Miss Moonstar, interviewing you as a couple has been a most interesting and informative experience and you deserve to be  congratulated on having given well thought out and honest answers, many clearly from your hearts. 

My hope is that those of us in our community who are willing to read and learn from the experiences of others will enjoy and find strength in reading our interview. 

Thank you for opening yourselves up to us so sincerely and freely,

Take care and stay safe,

AmandaJane

[luthienne]

piano was my whole life from the ages 4-16. it was my entire identity. i woke up at 5 every morning to practice before school, and then several hours after too. i was preparing pieces to apply to julliard already with the help of my teacher, who was a former alumni, but then something traumatic happened to me and i couldn't play anymore without crying. it was too painful to listen to classical music for years, and then only orchestral without piano. i dropped out of high school, i never went to college. finally this last year at 24 ive been able to listen to piano again, but im very poor, unemployed, and could never afford a piano, not even a digital one. i miss it so much. i lost my sense of self when i stopped playing. no one ive met would be able to understand this pain of not playing, and i never tell people about it, but maybe you would understand. whenever i meet a pianist i feel so distraught like, i can't describe. it's so painful.

i understand this feeling so, so deeply. so painfully well. i am so sorry. your story could almost be my story. high-achieving. spent my entire young adult life pouring myself into classical singing. graduated top of my class. was accepted to multiple top conservatories/universities for grad school (mannes school of music, jacob institute of music, san francisco conservatory, boston university school of music). i made it through my graduate program, but then after i graduated the trauma i’d previously experienced caught up with me, and then more piled on. first i couldn’t sing without crying, then i couldn’t sing at all. i went from practicing five hours a day to nothing. from working with conductors from the paris opera, directors from the met, to not being able to sing a simple aria. first bc my throat would close up, then bc i lost the desire completely. i’d never thought that singing could be something that i could lose, that i could want so badly to want again. i had always been my singing and my singing had been me. i had no identity outside of music. i avoided social media bc ofc all my friends from school posted constant #thrilledtoannounce updates. i lost contact with my old professors, people who had cared about me, who had been invested in me. i was (am) drowning in student debt. i moved back home to save money. had to face my family and the questions they had about why i suddenly wasn’t singing anymore. i still haven’t told them about the trauma i went through, so they just don’t understand. my grandmother told me recently, crying, that she just wants to see me sing again, see me “make it” in opera before she dies. my dad still asks me to sing at family events and doesn’t understand why i don’t. i still can’t listen to some music, but i can finally listen to classical music again. i can finally sing again sometimes in my apartment. it’s still something fragile, something close to me that i feel terrified of sharing. i came across a tiktok of an opera singer who just sings for fun, and my heart felt like someone had gripped it and pulled it into my throat. i’ve spent the past few years trying to come to terms with it, with everything. i’m always here to talk if you want. i feel more pain about losing my singing than i do about the trauma that precipitated it. i miss my singing like i miss myself. so, yes, i do. i do understand. i’m so sorry. please know that you’re not alone in this. ♡♡♡

[do not reblog pls]

[crybabysunflower]

Why I relate to Tomoko Kuroki from Watamote

Introduction

Tomoko Kuroki is the main female protagonist of the anime named Watamote, I am going to be personal and honest in this blog so I am giving a trigger warning and I am not writing this for sympathy, I should also put down spoiler warnings too.

Why I relate to her

This is the section where I would explain why I relate to her I am very shy and sort of becoming more shy as I am growing up, we see Tomoko only talking with her friends and family and thats the same case for me, except I am going to feel shy and awkward if I meet them in some location other than the ones we usually meet. Referring to Watamote again, Tomoko tries to act like a kuudere character to get attention, I too had done same except its a dandere character thinking that, I might become 'better' and.....that eventually became one of the reasons for my shyness and....I still tell myself to be 'quieter' because I end up becoming chatty (which I do become if someone mentions my favorite topics). One of the most characteristic aspect of Tomoko is her need to be the popular girl of her class and she has her own definition of a 'perfect' girl. This is same for me too although both of us have different definitions, for me its a girl who is smart, talented, extremely creative and ofcourse beautiful.

Tomoko daydreams a lot which I too do regarding being a popular girl in social media, having lots of followers and getting lots of likes, but Tomoko and I share the same types of ending, besides, we both feel nervous when we want to interact with the so called perfect students of our class or school (like how she wanted to interact with the club president Imae), even if....they don't think that bad about us we end up thinking that we both have made fool of ourselves. Because of my drive to look intelligent...I get sort of uncontrollable when someone asks questions (like raising the hand before everyone when teachers ask some questions) and end up embarrassing myself.

Most of our summer vacations are usually spent in home with our digital devices and we are sort of lazy and addicted to internet. Tomoko is into playing otome games, in my case, the otome games addiction is substitued by kpop because we sort of do same stuff, that is looking at handsome men, shirtless men, smile and fantasize, besides..... I like listening to kpop songs which are seductive.

At the same time, I will instantly get jealous seeing my classmates post pictures of themselves in exotic locations or fancy resturants (just like how she feels jealous of Yuu from time to time secretly calling her a 'bitch'), we overall feel jealous of people who are better than us.

We also have a habit of bribing our younger siblings and annoying them and our little brothers are pretty much a popular kid in their school, in my case, I mostly cuddle him because...he is a really cute little boy (he is literally a little boy) when he is busy playing games on phone.

Tomoko and I are emotionally sensitive and easy to cry, Tomoko was crying when her teacher scolded her, her mom scolded and whacked her, and when Yuu said that she wont go to watch movie with her, and yes thats how I tend to react in these situations.

In the end we are both young women with low self esteem who cares too much about others' opinions maybe one day epiphany will strike me and I will realize that, I shouldn't be bothered about those opinions, just like it struck her in the end of last episode making her realize that all these are useless.

[jiminrings]

could you maybe do something where it’s yoongi in rich boy!jimin’s au and he meets his y/n or a peak into how their relationship would work ? i love you 🥺💚

contact: you

pairing: yoongi x y/n

glimpse: the water’s cold but yoongi makes it warmer; or that piece in which model!yoongi meets his y/n!!

wordcount: 4k

notes: i love you too!!! :D

also, this yoongi comes from insufferable, that rich boy!jimin au!! in this fic we’re all just gonna pretend that yoongi’s PA goes by another name and not y/n :)) yoongi’s y/n is not jimin’s y/n!! pls don’t be confused that’s all hehe // gif isn’t mine!!

there’s a fine line in between compliments and insults

hENCE backhanded compliments

but in a way it’s still a compliment, right???

would it still be a backhanded compliment if you give it to yourself though,,,,, that’s the question

tHREE YEARS IN FILM SCHOOL

you just can’t seem to know whether graduating a year early than intended from film school is a cOMPLIMENT OR AN INSULT

is it an achievement or is it a curse??

ok initially, you were proud from graduating a year early because that meant one less year dedicating yoursef to studies, right???

big wrong :D

that meant you choosing the most cramped schedule with more units than you think is humanely possible

you just cAN’T help wanting to go on with life faster and easier!!! you went with this track anyway so you could become closer to the diRECTOR you’ve always wanted to be

it’s a pretty simple analogy

and u don’t get why people who took the same course as you did, didn’t think as the same way as you do

because like for example

there’s two options to go to your destination

hmmm let’s say it’s to go to the park!!! a rEALLY famous and beautiful park and if you aren’t early enough, then there’d be no place for you to lay a blanket out and properly enjoy it

the first route is a nicely-paved, nicely-leveled and cemented road, but it’s gonna take about twenty minutes because there’s traffic

oR

the second route is a much shorter trip that would take only ten minutes, but the road may be a lil rocky and not all postlamps are lit and there mAY be a crossing chicken or not

of course you’d go for the second route :D

and now you know why much more people wanted to go with the first route aHA

no disrespect to your alma mater or something but that shit sUCKED

sURE they had decent dorms and it was your decision to take the more hectic schedule that meant much less time for you to do basically anything that’s outside of your film degree

it was having instant noodles atleast four out of the seven days in a week and sometimes even skipping that processed goodie because it always felt like you’d have to be hustling

hustling is a very icky word in ur humble opinion but you like saying that now ironically in your quarter-life crisis

it was the “why would i wait to cook this for ten minutes wHEN i could be doing something else more productive iNSTEAD of eating aka delecting food that helps give what i need to atleast enact my motor functions???” thinking

which is unhealthy ok

beyond unhealthy lmao that’s what you’re sure of

and then you graduated film school!!!

the opportunities you were promised of when you were still studying?? aha zero :D

the idea that once you graduate film school and you iMMEDIATELY have the job of whatever you majored such as directing or screenwriting and etc.,,,,, that is a whole load of bull-

:D

it’s a hierarchy

you’ve graduated with LATIN HONORS and u persevered for three years with your major in directing and u wore a really nice dress for your ceremony :))))

and now you’re fetching coffee and making twenty calls in a half hour and running around to set things up :)))))

an intern :)))))

the only ones who immediately become what they’ve studied for has sOME sort of tie and pull to the industry

you may have made a thesis film that’s ranked the highest in the history of all thesis films in your university :)) and you may have had submitted it to film competitions and got approved and got some plaques :)))

but no that doesn’t mean a sINGLE bit once you’re out in the real world

you’re just taking whatever you get

i mean you dID want to work your way up in the film industry

like as in the movie industry??? the one you went to film school for?????

but what you are doing now :)) is working as an intern for this huge company that handles tv commercials and adverts and shoots :))

aHA not exactly the film industry but atleast it’s still within the media industry, right??

right???

pls say right

anyways

the agenda for today is this watch shoot!!

there’s a tv commercial to be produced out of it and there would also be multiple shoots for the models who’d be here

you dressed up extra good today :D

it wouldn’t matter but atleast it’s the thought that counts somehow

your company’s official lanyard kinda sucks and you can’t change the lace for it nO matter what but it’s no pressure!! your outfit’s gonna make up for it

there’s not exactly a dress code for interns,, it just goes for the terms as long as:

a) it’s still work-appropriate

b) this is a simultaneously unspoken yet obvious rule bUt you just need some boundaries,,,, you can’t stroll up into the set looking like the executive producer or the director who looks a lil bit fancy

c) you shouldn’t attract attention so much because you’re an intern :)) even if that iS the sole purpose of the intern because otherwise how would you land a more secure and higher-ranking job???? are they thinking or-

it’s a black shirt!!!

groundbreaking

but it’s a nice black shirt with embroidery in the front!!!

it’s just n i c e embroidered in the front and uH right on the middle of your chest area that’s clothed obviously but that’s cool

simple, casual, effortless, tINY bit fun

you also aren’t an intern with black pants

but no this is a nICER pair of pants

they’re like slacks!! like fitted slacks but not too fitted and not too formal

you wanted to wear it in tan but that’s not exactly optimized for your job because you are literally always in the go

it’s always just ease of movement in your clothes

and if you could dash in them in getting coffee or whatever the fuck the production team wants or look for duct tape and print lacking scripts like a madman, then you’re good to go :D

you caved in buying those nurse shoes that are raved about because you’re on your feet almost 24/7 and slip-on vans would not always save ur life

ur always wearing ankle support socks too because you’d rather look like an athlete misplaced in a commercial shoot rather than crying at home with how sore your body and most eSPECIALLY your legs are

that can’t stop you either

so now,,, you’re wearing cute socks on top of the support

it’s barely noticeable but it’s the effort you put in ok

and to be extra presentable, you traded your digital watch for the day with your watch that looks a little bit more classy with the silver!!!

it’s an analog watch with a really nice and shiny silver watch strap and although normally ur mind takes tWO seconds to buffer and read it as opposed to instantly knowing the exact time with a digital one, it’s worth it :D

it better be

you can get atleast one glance from park jimin and your life would be forever fulfilled

you signed a non-disclosure agreement once it was presented because after all

wHO WOULDN’T GUSH WHEN THEY KNEW THE LINE-UP FOR THIS SHOOT????

park jimin!!!

kim taehyung!!!

jung hoseok!!!

that’s the only three you knew so far

because they said that you’d know the other ones who are participating for the shoot once it actually happens

and that could mean two things

either you don’t know them at all oR they’d be really really famous and this ensures that you wouldn’t breach the nda you signed

hmmmm jimin’s kinda cute you’re not gonna lie :))

you can’t laze around in the job though because your walkie-talkie’s already bearing your name again and you’re being summoned now

this may be a blessing in disguise tho

you’re one of the interns who get called and noticed frequently and although that means mORE WORK, that also means you’re more trusted and more likely to secure the job you’re aspiring for!!!

“Y/N. There’s some extra copies of the shoot schedule by one of the makeup tables. Bring it over to me in the brief room.”

“of course!!! :D”

that’s one of your favorite producers specifically calling for you in the radio

he also talks very formally

you’ve always been a little bit close to mr. hyun bin because you were a bit of the teacher’s pet back in uni!!! he served as a professor while also being a producer and HE’S the reason you got accepted immediately as an intern here anyway!!

they’re always in the blue folders and that’s what you’re looking for very eagerly right now

because uHHHH there seems to be about a hundred makeup tables right now and mr. hyun didn’t exactly specify where

ok now where could that be

okay no it’s not on the table

lmao you find them sitting by a chair in front of the makeup table and you need to get it before someone sITS and dents the folder because mr. hyun gets a bit cranky when the folder isn’t smooth

“But the folder’s job is to keep the documents inside it smooth. If the folder’s damaged, then that also means that the contents inside it, is also damaged to a degree.”

no he said that

he literally said that once

if you could read thoughts in the air then mr. hyun probably speaks in proper punctuation AND capitalization

you found the schedule

and you also found this guy dressed in a really nice suit who looks very breathtaking

.... and is frustrated?

NOW HE LOOKS VERY FAMILIAR!!! you just can’t remember the name right now

he must be a talent because no one else is wearing the same suit that he is and his visuals are just beyond gorgeous so that must be it

he’s hunched on his makeup chair alone???

and there’s something on his hand and he keeps dipping his finger to his cupped hand and keeps squinting to the mirror in front of him and

oh

OH

“do you need help, sir?”

yoongi almost jumps out from his chair because oh my god are you-

oh huh.,., you’re not his personal assistant

you see

contact lens would be the absolute BANE of yoongi’s whole existence

he just can’t put it in

he’s said that sO many times to people who find him frustrating over it and whenever they make a “that’s what she said” joke it just makes him want to poke his eyeballs

“no, no. uh it’s okay!! i just can’t aGH shit i just need to learn how to put these cursed contacts in.”

oh he’s cute

like real cute

“name?”

wait wHAT

he’s a bit perplexed because why are you asking for his name

and uh quick question wHY don’t you know his name

not to brag but yoongi,,,, he knows to himself that he’s a world-renowned model!!! he’s done countless shoots!!! he’s appeared in so many things!!!!! why don’t you-

ok he’s being a little bit boastful in his head now

“min yoongi.”

he just states his name and he doesn’t get how would that help with his problem right now

you’ve asked because you’re searching for his name by the schedule and you’re just absent-mindedly muttering his name as you search for it

“min yoongi min yoongi min yOU OH!!! oh!!!! min yoongi!!!!!”

lmao alright that’s it

you remember him immediately and it clicks with you that oh my god this is min yoongi!!!!

that’s the reaction he was initially looking for but it’s okay he’s just gonna be humble about it

“okay well first of all, it says here that you’re about to be called in nine minutes from now so hOW about i just give you a hand, hmm??”

that is not exactly a request

because even before yoongi could like half-heartedly agree (he wants to do it so badly but he can’t) and thank you, you’re already pulling his palm towards yours

“the solution’s drying out,,, how long have you been trying to get it in?”

he hears you ask him in a teasing voice and he kinda frowns at that because well NOW he’s too embarrassed to answer :((

you’re wordlessly grabbing the solution that’s on his desk before you squirt some on your curved palm and plucking out the lens that used to be on his palm

“you have to clean it first.”

“mhmm....,., yes.,.,.., i know that.”

a little bit

jUST a little bit

“you clean it first in these motions, see?? don’t rub it clockwise or anything like that”

ooh so that’s how it goes

he doesn’t want to be rude but he thinks that you’re not the director of this shoot

and there’s nothing bad about that!!!! he just wouldn’t know how to feel if the director were to see him frustrated over contact lens and they’d be the one to do it for him

“pick it up like a bowl!! make sure that the ends of it turn iNWARDS, okay?? inwards!!! if the ends poke out then it would literally hurt so much and maybe you’d be blind”

oh

YOONGI DIDN’T EVEN KNOW THAT UNTIL NOW

so that’s where he went wrong for like five times,,,,,

“never put it in dry, okay? otherwise it would hurt too.”

that’s it yoongi’s taking this girl’s words down

he doesn’t know wHO you are but he appreciates you

“now tilt your head down a little bit for me :))”

yoongi bows his head and it kinda makes you snort because he was serious with that one

“nO NO just a little bit, mr. min.”

you have your thumb on his chin just to get it to the right position

he will d-word right now oh my god is he a dummy

how could you pOSSIBLY put the contacts on him if his head was hung that low

in any angle though, he looks so nice

he has long eyelashes too and they’re pointing downwards so that may add on to his problem

“now look up”

whew oh god you need to avert your eyes a little bit because you’re just realizing now that this is mIN YOONGI you’re dealing with right now

“or at me!! yeah that would work too :))”

yoongi’s just killing it with his social cues huh :)))))))))

you’re placing delicately the lens by his sclera and yoongi kinda panics and is at the same excited because this is dEFINITELY HAPPENING

“ok calm dOWN and now move your eye until the contact clings and keep moving it still even if you’ve got it already for like eight seconds!!!”

he did it

well technically yOU DID IT

BUT STILL!!!!!

“oh my god that is the qUICKEST thing ever omg now the other eye!! do the other eye!!! :D”

he’s so giddy over you putting on his contact lens and he doesn’t even know you and you just feel so familiar to him!!

yoongi trusts you with his contact lens and that’s enough trust you’d ever need

“aaaaand we’re done!! :D”

“thank you!! what’s your n-“

alright that is mr. hyun asking for a follow-up in the walkie-talkie by asking where’s the schedules and that means you immediately have to dash to the briefing room :))

yoongi didn’t even catch your name :((

you didn’t even get to say goodbye to him :((

you didn’t get to see yoongi for the rest of the shoot because after you’ve delivered the papers, you were then summoned to take care of the catering company that’s gonna do it’s second rounds and to facilitate whatever they needed to do :((((

it’s a bummer though

you dIDN’T even get to see the actual shoot get done because you were too busy verifying the payments if those fish fingers are really priced like that in the receipt you were given :((

you’re probably never gonna see him again

there’s another shoot you’ve been called for again the next week and this time, it was for a luxury brand that’s releasing it’s summer line and the settings for it were a beach AND a swimming pool

they couldn’t have just become satisfied with a beach and had to add on a fancy pool filled with chlorine and then more chlorine for the sets

“Y/N, do you know how to swim?”

mr. hyun asks you so casually as your only task as of now is to stand beside him as he lists things and you check it off in your clipboard

“hmm. i do know how to swim, mr. hyun, but not professionally, y’know?? they don’t exactly teach dives in film school”

he laughs at that and you smile at that because good for you :))

“Good. Because we’re gonna need someone to keep these floaties still, and the lifeguard’s out, and here’s a rashguard.”

what

what in the actual fUCK

you see

although this is for a summer line and a summer shoot

yOU’RE SHOOTING IN JANUARY

and you came into work today not thinking that you’re gonna be in a frEEZING pool wearing a rashguard underneath your shirt to keep these floaties still!!!!

you love your job you love your job you love your job!!!!!

maybe if you say it enough, it’s gonna come true!!!!!

“oH ITS YOU AGAIN!!!”

hold up

that’s

“yoongi????”

“cONTACT GIRL!!!!!”

the both of you are genuinely surprised to see each other ok

at this point, you should automatically assume that yoongi would always be the undisclosed model in your shoots

you’re looking up at him and he’s looking down on you because CLEARLY he is not in the freezing pool as you are

“i’d let you put in my contacts right now, but it doesn’t exactly make a good addition to chlorine :]”

the water’s freezing but yoongi just makes it warmer :))

mr. hyun’s saying the directions to you as to where in the pool you should place yoongi and the floatie’s slippery and you dON’T want to risk getting the clothes wet because it’s not intended.,..,. even if this is a summer shoot

he has a tough crowd (you) and you’re just kinda deadpanning because you now feel you aRE a little bit embarrassed even if this is your job and u shouldn’t be

“i’m kidding!! jus kidding :D”

humor doesn’t exactly click when you’re about waist-deep and aBOUT to be shoulder-deep into freezing cold water

and now since you look a fool, you’re just gonna deal with the slippery floatie and yoongi notices so he’s the one who takes your hand instead as he nudges you to move

:] i was just joking pls don’t hate me :]

you stop the moment mr. hyun says sTOP that’s perfect and before you could awkwardly waddle yourself away from the camera’s view-

“is your face just good and the sunscreen you used is matte, or do you just not have any sunscreen on??”

yoongi asks with much concern as if it’s the most important thing in the world and he doesn’t have a shoot to do

“i don’t have-...”

“no? oh come on, contact girl!! come here for a second!!!”

you look to mr. hyun because Sir is it really and he’s just screaming back with his eyes going gO COME TO MIN YOONGI

you’re confused and before you know it, yoongi’s reaching for you and digging into his pocket and-

“sunscreen stick!! the sun’s always there even if it’s freezing, y’know?”

this time, it’s yoongi tilting your chin up and very delicately swipes the stick on your face and even taps it in

:))

“all done!! let’s start the shoot!!”

he claps up and everybody gets into position and you have to waddle back to your spot awkwardly with your cheeks heating up

you don’t know if it’s yoongi’s power move to swipe his own sunscreen sticks on people but it fEELS LIKE IT IS

he’s very well-aware of what he’s done and he now has every intention to ask you what’s your name after this

although tHAT doesn’t happen again because now mr. hyun’s telling you to come up and get all dried down because after this, he’s gonna need you to ask the front desk if you could access more of their amenities for the sudden changes in the shoot :(((

yoongi almost doesn’t want to leave the set because you’re out again :((( and he still hasn’t had the chance to ask you your name

uGH it’s just so unfair :(((

you feel the same way and you just wanna see him!!! even if he’s only gonna tease you for most of the time and you’re gonna be a blushing mess throughout!!!

you’re cranky ok

you’re more cranky than how mr. hyun gets with dented folders

you’ve had two back-to-back shoots this week and you’ve only had ONE hour of sleep for the whole time

seriously

not to mention that you thought you’d also see yoongi in atleast one of those projects :(( but it was a no-go either

your job is just sO demanding

it starts earlier and ends later than how the printed schedules say and is much more different than the talent’s

speaking of talents, these artists are just pure out LATE and not only are they setting a bad impression on the director!!!!

but they are also the reason for the bane of your existence!!!you call their drivers non-stop to ask for the whereabouts and to adjust the catering’s schedule and the amends that you need to make for people

they make your job harder and your hours longer and your fatigue greater

you actually feel like you’re gonna pASS OUT

mr. hyun’s the one who’s assigning you to these projects and as MUCH as you’re thankful because that means better pay and more exposure and more experience,,, he’s really not seeing the fatigue he’s putting you thru right now

you forgot your ankle support,,,, you have nOT eaten three meals today,,,, you haven’t drank water for hours,,,,, you fEEL like you’re gonna pass out

and someone’s just called you over again to deliver these hair pins to this specific trailer asap and oh god your ankles are just gonna fall off at this point

ok quick knock and you enter and-

“hmm?? oh, it’s okay!! we don’t need it anymore. someone else already brought in new ones :))”

fu-

“cONTACT GIRL!!!!!!”

if you took a moment to read the name that’s by the front of the trailer, you’d know that this is yoongi’s trailer and the makeup artists just went straight to his,, instead of him coming to them because he just can’t be damned to stand and walk over there :D

the makeup artist you were talking to moved out of the way so the both of you could see each other and sO yoongi could also stop stretching his neck out to the max

they’re finishing up anyway

his contact lens case was held by this makeup artist and she was about to put em in and yoongi snatched back the case :))

“here!!! put them on me!!!”

okay that’s a bit awkward for the other girl yikes.,.,. she’s just uh gonna exit the trailer with the other makeup artists now

“hi.”

you only greet back now as you get the case for him and yoongi frowns at that

why aren’t you cheery???? he’s used to you being more enthusiastic than him so wHY is he the one carrying the conversation (that hasn’t been even started) that’s already dwindling out

you’re getting really really sluggish and this sudden heavy wave of sleepiness is really hitting you

you dO look kinda hazy

“are you okay??”

yoongi’s holding you by the sides of your arms and your eyes are blinking so slowly as you try to nod but that just won’t cut it for him

“well i think yOU need to rest”

he’s standing up and is about to put you onto his sofa so you could like perhaps nap a minute or two since he knows fatigue when he sees it

but by the looks of it, he can’t even make you lie down because you’re already sitting down

sitting down

on his lap

oN HIS LAP

this is really.,.,...nice

yoongi’s a bit shocked and there aren’t any sentences forming in his head besides “what’s your name, contact girl???” as if that is the mOST pressing issue right now

“ᶦ’ᵐ ʸ/ⁿ” is what you could only practically mumble because this pillow is really soft and warm and heavenly and u want nothing more at the moment than to be buried in it

yoongi has never felt this soft

ever

there’s you accidentally falling asleep on him

literally ON him

and his hands are still hovering but he decides to relocate them on your back, rubbing small circles and even patting softly

your hair smells really good too

he must’ve been to engrossed in it as you burst awake some minutes later and you almost bump his jaw on your way up

“oh my gOD did i just pass out on your lap???”

well you’re still sat on his lap and you’re scrambling away while you’re still groggy and he has to reach for you before you could topple over

“no problem!! it’s cool i sWEAR!!!”

he quickly explains what’s happened and how he’s close with hyun bin and how he literally conversed for like two seconds and your producer immediately agreed

yoongi just said “hEY mr. hyun!!! y/n works for you, right?? i’m SO sorry if this isn’t in my position to ask but y’know she did just kinda pass out and i was wondering if she could just lay down in my trailer for awhile??”

within two minutes mr. hyun apparently went to the trailer and delivered your backpack and he keeps in mind to apologize to you later on and hmmmmm is there anything going on between you and yoongi???

“are there any pillows?”

underneath the cushion the both of you are sitting at, there is a shit tON of pillows he just keeps there

there’s memory foam!! cotton!! feather!! a hybird of those two!!!

yoongi decides to answer and he delivers it with the straightest answer possible

“... no.”

he quickly clears his throat as he looks to his lap and taps on it so you could lie down on him!!

you think you like yoongi :)))

yoongi is positive that he likes you :)))

you stand up for a moment and he panics because nO where are you going??? but it was just for you to retrieve your phone and grab your earphones!!

you kind of have an irrational fear of buying airpods and that shit just falling every two seconds and then you could nEVER find it

and so here you are :)) offering yoongi an earphone as you lay your head on his lap

there’s just something so familiar with the melody

the lyrics

the vOICE

so familiar to the point that yoongi’s heart practically drops because oh god

tHAT’S HIM

THAT’S HIM IN HIS OTHER JOB THAT ONLY HE KNOWS ABOUT

“this suga guy.,, i like him.”

“o-oH???”

yoongi doesn’t know whether he should feel jealous because you like this suga guy

but he doesn’t know shit because he IS that suga guy!!!

and so his mind’s fuzzy and all-conflicted as you babble on, about to be lulled to sleep again

“once i get to make a film, like an actual full-length film and jUST not a thesis film,,,, i’m hiring him,,,, i don’t care if he consumes like 80% of my budget for that film iM HIRING HIM!!!”

yoongi’s about to practically combust right now

he’s grinning from ear-to-ear, looking down on you who he’s grown fond of so much so fast and is lying down on his lap, his thumb pressing down on your cheek softly as he tilts his head

“do you wanna know a secret?”

[purplesurveys]

1142

survey by tickticktmr

Do you have a digital camera? What color is it? No, haven’t held one in years. The last digital camera we had was a bit of a magenta shade; it actually belonged to my sister but I borrowed it occasionally.

Did you like the movie Juno? It was ok, though to be honest I’ve mostly forgotten what it’s about. I remember fairly liking it but it’s not the type of movie or genre I’d rewatch.

Name something you think is way over-rated: Big Macs, which I’ve never found tasty.

Do you remember your first friend? Yes, it was a girl named Kaye that I sat with in preschool. She didn’t stay too long in my school, so I haven’t been able to reconnect.

Would you rather live with your mom, dad, a friend or on your own? On my own.

Name something your pet(s) like: Walks.

Do you listen to country music? No, I don’t.

What does the color white remind you of? Peace, serenity, doves, minimalist homes.

What show/movie/song makes you cry every time? Show: From Brooklyn Nine-Nine - either the episode where Rosa Diaz comes out as bisexual or the episode where Terry gets racially profiled.

Movie: La vita e bella.

Song: There isn’t one song that makes me cry 100% of the time, but I suppose Why We Ever by Hayley Williams had this effect on me for a time.

What was your last fight about? I spilled a drop of our dinner’s soup on the dinner table last Thursday and my mom did a sufficient job making me feel incompetent and a dumbass about it, so I was hurt by it and didn’t speak a word for the rest of the evening. Not really a fight, but y’know.

Do you text a lot? I used to not but anymore. I usually get prepaid for LTE now, not to have credits for texts.

Have you ever been screamed at by a teacher? Many times. A number of them didn’t like me for whatever reason...

Do you smile or scowl more? I definitely try to smile more, but idk for sure if that’s what I do more frequently.

Obama or Bush? Idk, maybe Obama? Considering we were colonized by the US at one point and imperialism remains to linger in my country, I generally don’t take kindly to any US president, though.

Batman or Superman? I don’t like comic books.

Are you excited about Blink 182 getting back together? I don’t follow the band so I’m not sure how recent or relevant this news is, but  generally speaking I don’t remember ever being stoked for a Blink-182 comeback in particular.

Would you rather be a teacher, a stripper or a hairdresser? I’d go with teacher, and preferably of history, so that I at least can have an hour or so to talk about my passion with other people lol.

The last person you spoke to: how many times have they made you cry? Just once.

What's your favorite kind of gum? The classic bubblegum flavor is fine with me.

Have you ever failed a class in school? Just exams, but never altogether an entire class that required me to retake.

Are you even in school? No, not anymore.

Are you taller then your best friend? No haha, I’m slightly tinier than both of them.

Are you scared of spiders? I’d be scared probably of the larger kinds, but all we get here are the super small spiders so this isn’t an issue for me for the most part.

You can't eat anything ever again except for jello or apples: which one? Probably apples. I cannot stand the texture of jelly/Jell-O, and I guess I can move past my dislike of fruits for this situation since apple is kinda decent anyway.

Have you ever cheated on anyone? No, never man.

If you answered yes to the last question, do they know about it?

Do you paint your nails often? I never do and I never have them done either.

Mascara or lipgloss? Er lipgloss I guess, since I literally don’t care how my eyelashes look.

Who’s the last person you called? I think it had been Denise, a co-worker. 

Describe the last person who sent you a text: It was just the delivery guy who brought Ysa’s gift to my place, so I don’t know enough about him to be able to give a sufficient description.

Do you ever watch TV shows or movies on YouTube? No, because for the most part they would be high- or low-pitched, in a tiny screen, sped up, zoomed in, or altogether fake. I also don’t understand why buying movies individually on YouTube is still a thing when Netflix exists for literally cheaper.

Myspace or facebook? Uh Facebook, I guess.

How old were you when you lost your first tooth? I was around 5 or 6, I think.

Have you ever embarassed yourself in front of someone you like? Yeah. But when I started dating them, fucking up in front of them became less embarrassing, of course.

Describe your hair right now: Wet and slightly dripping since I just stepped out of the shower.

Do you like it when it rains? Yes, it’s my favorite weather.

Does anyone miss you right now? I hope my friends do...but I can’t say for sure.

How many funerals have you been to? None. Just wakes.

Where's your favorite place to hang out? Depends on the vibe I’m feeling for the day and the company I’ve got.

Have you ever laughed so hard you peed in your pants? Oh gee, never.

Do you like video games? What's your favorite one? I was raised around video games and so much of my childhood was watching my kuya, dad, and a number of my uncles completing games, so I definitely hold a big appreciation and fondness for them. I never inherited any skills of my own though lmao, so I mostly watch walkthroughs; and the only video games I’ve ever met considerable progress on are Nintendo games marketed for all audiences HAHAHA.

Have you ever worn something your parents wouldn't approve of? Yeah I’ve gotten chided by my mom a handful of times, telling me to cover up with a jacket or something. But her reasoning was always men, so I’m usually able to defend myself and say that that’s not my problem and that’s something fucking men have to deal with themselves. We both know I’m right so she ends up begrudgingly letting me go out with whatever outfit I choose on that given day.

Where are your sibling(s)? They are in their respective bedrooms.

When's the last time a friend got dumped/dumped someone? September. That friend was Gabie and the dumpee was me hahahah, does that count?

Do you celebrate Valentine's day? If I have a significant other, yeah. I like keeping our activities lowkey though because from all my past experiences, malls and restaurants tend to get fully booked on February 14 and it ends up being more of a (very crowded) hassle than a celebration.

Do you celebrate Christmas? Yep.

Does it snow where you live? Never.

Have you ever wanted a pet unicorn? I never did, actually.

Would you like to work to earn money, or simply have money given to you? The latter is obviously the ideal situation, but I recognize the importance of hard work too and constantly working on my skills.

If you could be on any game show, what one would it be? Jeopardy or Family Feud.

Do you know anyone whose famous? Yes, at least locally.

Do you read those gossip magazines? I used to, lol those were my guilty pleasures back then. I still keep up with celebrity updates, but I’ve moved to social media now. I also filter which publications I consume and avoid the tabloid-y ones like Daily Mail.

Summer or winter? I’d go with winter so that I can actually experience it for once.

What do you hear right now? I’m watching an archived Facebook livestream of a senior citizen who had held a virtual piano concert to raise funds to afford his maintenance medicine. The media ate it up like crazy and it’s since gone viral, so I was able to I read about him earlier tonight. He reminds me so much of my late grandpa so I quickly searched for the finished concert on Facebook and now I have it on :)

When's the last time you saw a cousin? Around two weeks ago.

Where were you the last time you left your house? I can’t remember exactly. I think I went to Feliz...OH OK I remember now - I originally went to the nearby SM to handle an LBC delivery for work, and to stay at Starbucks for a few hours also to work. After that I went to their vape stall to buy new pods but they didn’t have any for the vape brand I use, so I went to Feliz as well to try my chances there. They ended up having a few flavors but not what I usually get, so I decided to try a new one - grape lol.

Describe the room you are in: Dark, filled with the lovely sounds of piano music, and the faint smell coming from my scented candle. Overall, light and peaceful.

What shoes did you wear today? I wore my Onitsukas when I walked Cooper this morning.

[spoonie-isms]

Pete the Cat at my library.

My preschool (which has been back in session since June) is literature based. It's actually pretty cool. There's a theme for the week - a book. And each week has all these different skills the kids are tryna hit. This week our theme is "community helpers" and so we are construction workers at blocks, I made a game where they match tools to different careers, they are building bridges for bears to cross, they are practicing stop drop and roll.

One of the skills this week is to use a glue stick. (My kids are 3 turning 4) So we ripped up warm colors of paper and glued them to make a fire. Some kids crumpled them. Some laid them flat. I wrote out observations about their dexterity, and took pictures. The parents get at least a couple of pictures emailed to them every day, along with an activity descriptor, tagged skills, and additional notes from the teacher.

They get AM snack, lunch, and PM snack. They have a 2 hour rest period where most of them sleep. I record what and how much they eat. I record their naps, any accidents. The parents get a daily report of the lesson plan, pictures, notes, potty activity, nap activity.

Once a month, folders with examples of work and more detailed descriptions go home. Thrice a year, parents get a detailed report of a score 1-3 of each skill and a page of notes on each topic.

Our centers of learning are literature/writing, creative expression, manipulatives (math), science/social studies, digital media, wellness, social-emotional, citizens of the world. We have a dramatic play center in the classroom and we make graphs and grow plants and talk about how food gives our bodies energy and protein to grow, and our blood takes it all over. We talk about how good shots are even though they make us cry, and how we use bandaids to keep the blood in and the germs out.

Sometimes I get frustrated with the high expectations on the teachers and students. Sometimes the staff annoys me. The kids are always a double handful. But I really like and believe in out program, and I love that the library let's me take out so many books.

I get about 30-40 every week. We read 4 a day, and I like to have enough that each of the 16 kids can have a book at once. Being able to order online and pick up curbside has been amazing. I don't like dragging my school germs into places if I can help it.

A+ to libraries, even when they have a creepy pete outside.

[namjuicyy]

A Father’s Love - Chapter Six

Masterlist | Requests are open.

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut.

Genre of this part: Angst.

Word Count: 3.1k.

Summary: Single father, Namjoon, struggles to keep his idol life and his private life separate. When he meets you, everything changes.

Warnings: None.

One minute you were walking on the clouds, dodging the minor holes that you might have fallen through had you not been vigilant. The next you were falling from the skies, trying to clutch onto everything you'd built within the last year, yet there was nothing.

You didn't see Jungkook for the rest of the day. You'd switched your phone off during the photoshoot so that you wouldn't be disturbed, so at nine o'clock when you turned your phone back on, you were bombarded with notifications, missed calls and text messages from all seven members of Bangtan, not just Namjoon. Everything felt so strange, and you couldn't quite figure out what was wrong.

You jumped at your phone ringing, not expecting the sudden loud noise and pop up. It was Namjoon. "___?" He asked immediately. His voice was deep and cracking.

"Joonie, what's wrong?"

"Oh thank God. Have you seen the news?"

"No, why?"

"I'll tell you when you come to mine. Please don't check anywhere online. This is something that needs to come from me."

"Namjoon, you're scaring me. Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm sending Yongsik with the car to come and pick you up. He's almost there. You know I love you, right?"

"Of course. I love you too."

Namjoon didn't say goodbye. You had suspicions that he was crying so he couldn't say it. You were terrified to say the least. You had no idea what was going on but all you knew was that something bad had happened and he wasn't telling you what it was. You could have screamed in frustration.

50 missed calls from Namjoon, 100 texts. Situated in the middle of the notification centre was the dreaded article that Namjoon had asked you not to look at. But you did. You saw the headline. And there was no going back now. You pressed the notification leading to the article, your heart pounding in your chest and tears threatening to spill over. This can't be true. There must be some kind of mistake. Haneul's mum died when he was 15-months, you were sure of it. Namjoon told you so.

The article told you everything you didn't want to know. Haneul's name was right there in digitally printed letters, along with a photograph of him being held by Namjoon when he was a baby. Namjoon and his partner at the time... wait... Minji? This can't be right. Why was Minji there at Haneul's birth? Unless... no... it couldn't be. Tears streamed from your eyes as you continued to read the article. Someone you considered to be a friend spouting the biggest bullshit you've seen in a while all about the two men in your life whom you absolutely adored. She told everyone that she and Haneul and her were incredibly close and that she was about to give love a second try with Namjoon. They were due to split with their current partners to be together. That was when your heart broke. Namjoon had called you to break up with you. He'd called you out of courtesy. You weren't supposed to read the article because he wanted to tell you in person. At least he was decent, you couldn't deny that.

When Yongsik pulled up, everything inside you was screaming to not get into the car. Your brain was telling you to run towards the nearest train station and stay on it until the last stop, which you very nearly did. But your loyalty to the man who hadn't shown the same to you was too strong, and you needed answers that running away wouldn't give you. So you got into Yongsik's car, and watched as Seoul drove by, the nightscape drenched in the rain providing the perfect backdrop for your mood. Everything hurt. Your eyes, your heart. And what didn't hurt felt empty, and numb. Your teeth were tingling with the amount you'd cried with an open mouth.

Yongsik kept looking at you in his rear-view mirror. You could tell he wanted to say something, but it wasn't his job to. He knew exactly why you were crying, and you could see the pity in his eyes. This angered you. You didn't want to be pitied. You didn't want anyone to feel sorry for you because your boyfriend had broken up with you via media so he could get back with his dead ex-partner and play happy families.

When you pulled up to Namjoon's building, you took your time getting out the car and walking up to the front door. You punched the number into the door, kicked your shoes off and made your way to the living area, your coat remaining on your body to allow you a quicker getaway.

You could see Namjoon sat there, eyes red raw from crying and his leg bouncing nervously as he waited for you. When he looked up, he saw you, your face mimicking his making him wonder if he was looking into a mirror. He knew as soon as he'd seen the makeup running down your face that you'd done what he'd asked you not to do and read the article.

"You lied to me." Your voice was quieter than you wanted it to be, but loud enough for Namjoon to hear it, and even flinch at the pain present in your voice. "You told me she was dead."

Namjoon shook his head. "I didn't. I just told you she left. You came to the conclusion she died."

Your anger burst out of you suddenly. "So this is my fault? If you knew I thought she'd died, Namjoon, then why didn't you correct me?"

"Because as far as I was concerned, she was dead. She hadn't bothered with me or Haneul in years! Why would I say to you, 'oh, by the way, Minji might come back after abandoning her son any day now, so expect that', when as far as I was aware, she was in Busan screwing some fucking English teacher who she later married?"

"You still should have corrected me, Namjoon! You should have told me that she was still alive and that I was wrong! At least this wouldn't have hurt as much as it does!"

"And I'm sorry for that. I just thought I was doing the right thing."

"Well clearly you thought wrong."

Silence. Namjoon agreed with you. He couldn't say another word. He just watched you take a seat on the couch opposite him. You cleared your throat and broke the silence again.

"I can't do this. If you kept her hidden from me, what else have you kept hidden from me?"

"Nothing, I swear."

You began to sob. "How can I believe that, Joon? How do I know that our entire relationship hasn't been built on secrets and mistakes? How can I trust you again? Us? How?"

He was crying too, watching your heart break was ripping him to shreds. "Don't say that. We... we can get through this. Please don't say that."

"Can we? I don't know who you are. I could cope with the fans and the news articles about me. I could cope with the long days in the studio and you coming home exhausted from dance practise. I could cope with taking care of Haneul like he was my own, in fact, that was one of the things I loved most. Him. And you. I can't cope with this, Joon. You should have told me."

"I know I should have and I'm so sorry. There aren't any words to tell you just how sorry I am. I will to anything, anything to make it up to you. You tell me what it is and I'll do it."

"Do you want to get back with her?"

"No. I have you." He got on his knees and crawled over to you, grabbing hold of your hand and holding it tightly. "Why would I want her when I have you? A beautiful," he kissed your hand, "kind," his lips travelled upwards, "funny," each word he punctuated with a kiss further up your body, "sweet, amazing, smart, talented woman? You make me so happy every single day, ___. I wake up each morning with my son one side of me and my stunning girlfriend the other side and I can't believe just how fucking lucky I am. I love you so fucking much I feel like my heart could burst."

You didn't want to ask this question. You shouldn't have. You knew you wouldn't like the answer so you should have just kept it to yourself, joined him on the floor and kissed him. You should have told him that everything would be okay and that you'd stay with him no matter what. But you didn't. You opened your mouth and regretted it immediately. "Do you still love her?" Namjoon sat back and looked away from you. He didn't say anything. You could tell he was sat there trying to think of a way to answer your question. His non-immediate answer was the final straw. "Goodbye, Namjoon."

You stood and walked towards the door. You heard him stand and run towards you. He ran in front of you and put his hands on either side of the wall to block your path to the front door. "No, please don't do this. I'm begging you, ___. Don't leave us."

"Get out of my way, Namjoon."

"No."

"Namjoon, move!"

"No!"

You tried to push passed him but it was useless. He was too strong for you. His large hands grabbed hold of your shoulders and pushed you against the wall. You didn't have time to fight back as his lips were on yours, pinning you there in a passionate kiss. All teeth and tongues but it was somehow everything you needed at that time. Your brain was telling you to push him away and leave him in the hallway. But your body and your heart was letting him unzip your coat and throw it to the floor. Your body was allowing him to press open mouthed kisses to your neck as he removed your jeans. Allowed him to drop to his knees and put his tongue on you while you were still pressed to the wall, hands in his hair and wet eyes closing in pure pleasure as his plump lips wrapped around your clit and sucked in the way you loved. He'd spent so many nights with you, he knew exactly how to push your buttons and make you feel absolutely amazing. And tonight was no exception.

He slipped two fingers passed your entrance, diving deep into your wetness and making you sing. He started to stroke you in that way that hit your spot, your hips bucking at the sensation and soon enough you were cumming around his mouth, gasping for oxygen and tugging at his hair.

He didn't give you time to come down, he rarely did when he was this worked up. Instead, he kissed you, and dragged you into his bedroom, throwing your clothes and his all over the apartment for a worry at a later time. As soon as you were in, he closed the door and his lips locked onto yours, pushing you towards the bed and falling on top of you.

Whenever Namjoon was inside you, regardless of the mood or the kind of sex you were having, it always felt right. Tonight, despite saying goodbye, was no exception. As he entered you, he looked into your eyes as he always did, thrusted in and watched your face as you stretched around him, the burn feeling exquisite to both of you. One thrust in, hard, deep, nearly hitting your cervix, earning one loud moan from you and a grunt from him. He could never keep quiet during sex, something you loved about him. Another thrust, then another, until he'd got bored of that and started to move faster, his thrusts slower and softer but feeling no less pleasurable.

No words were exchanged between the two of you like there was usually. It was just the sound of your cunt swallowing him greedily, and his kisses pressing against your skin. He played with your clit to get you to cum a second time, making sure that you got everything you needed before he even started to chase his own orgasm. And, when you came the second time, everything seemed to freeze. Your body, time, the world. All you could feel was him inside you and how good he'd made you feel.

Namjoon came inside you, something you'd only ever let him do a handful of times. He didn't pull out immediately either, instead, he collapsed onto you leaving his cock in your cunt and his head in your neck. He breathed in your scent, fingertips traced your skin. It was almost as if he was memorising your body a second time, getting to know you once more.

Haneul, you'd come to learn, had been staying in his uncle Tae's room. You found this out after Namjoon had fallen asleep next to you on the bed and you'd rushed around the apartment putting your clothes back on before any of his roommates caught you scampering around in the nude. Taehyung was entering the kitchen just as you were putting your top back on, and gave you a look mixed with pity and sadness.

"You talked it out then?" He asked. You simply nodded in reply. "What did you decide to do? I know Namjoon was worried you might leave him. Is that...?" Tae didn't finish his question because you'd crumbled and started crying in front of him, something you didn't want to do. Tae charged towards you, and wrapped you up in his arms, rocking you gently to try and soothe you. He knew that you'd just said goodbye to Namjoon, and he knew how much that would have broken both you and his hyung.

"He still loves her, Tae." You wept.

"He's always gonna love her. She gave birth to his son. He's not ever going to forget that is he?" He pushed you away and held onto your shoulders to look at your face. "But he's hopelessly in love with you, ___. Fuck, he wouldn't stop talking about you when you'd first met. And he still doesn't."

"He lied to me."

"And he feels like shit."

"So do I!"

"I'm not justifying his actions. He should have been clear with you from the start. But don't give up on what you have."

You looked around the kitchen and found that Haneul's things were still everywhere, meaning he was still here and not with his grandparents. "Where's Haneul?"

"In my room, asleep. Or he was. I don't know if he still is."

"Can I go see him?"

Tae nodded and gestured to his bedroom door, one of the partitioned rooms built into the living room. You crept inside, and saw the toddler asleep in a bed far too big for him. The sight alone was enough to make you cry again. He was such a gorgeous, innocent little boy, with a cheeky smile and a sense of humour that was far more intelligent than what a four-year-old boy should have. He was cute and cuddly, and completely obsessed with cars. And he loved the bones off you, even you could see it. Which made this tougher.

Selfishly, you knelt down beside him so your faces were level and gently shook him so he woke up. He was like his father and could fall asleep easily, so you knew he'd go back to sleep. His sleepy, big, brown eyes focussed on you and he smiled. "Hey, big guy." You said, rubbing his back.

"___, you're back!" He said. His voice was quiet and filled with sleep but he was still so excited to see you.

"Not for much longer, sweetie. I have to leave soon."

"You leave, or daddy leave? Because when Daddy leaves he's away for a long time and I get to see grammy and grandpa."

"I'll be away for a long, long time. So I've," you could feel the lump forming in your throat. You tried to keep it at bay. You couldn't let him see you cry. "I've just come to say goodbye. And tell you that I love you a whole bunch and that I'll miss you so much."

"Where are you going?"

"I'll still be in Korea. But I just might not visit."

"Is it because Daddy shouted at you? Because I heard it and he shouldn't have raised his voice. He always told me I shouldn't shout at anyone. But you shouted at Daddy too."

"I'm sorry, big guy. We didn't mean to upset you. I promise you, it won't happen again." Haneul nodded. "Right, you've got playgroup in the morning, haven't you? So, you'd better get back to sleep." You tucked him back in and watched him get settled in bed. "I love you, big guy."

"I love you too."

You placed one final kiss on the top of his head and then left the room, collapsing onto the sofa and crying as quietly as you could. Taehyung was sat on the sofa opposite you, he'd heard everything that you'd said and was crying himself.

"So this really is goodbye?" He asked.

"I'm sorry, Tae. I can't do this anymore. Look after each other, yeah?"

Taehyung nodded and gave you another hug, rubbing your back as he held you tightly. He couldn't understand why you were leaving, but he knew it was something you felt you needed to do, so he couldn't force you to stay. Instead, he helped you into your coat, gave you one last hug and said goodbye to you. Hoping it wasn't for the last time.

Namjoon's alarm buzzed at 6:30 the next morning. He switched it off, turned over to wrap his arm around you to find you'd gone. Your clothes were missing from his apartment which meant you took off some time during the night. His heart shattered for the final time that day.

Your alarm went off at 8. The bed was cold next to you and your eyes were still stinging from the amount you'd cried last night. The tears started up once more when your alarm had switched off from your phone and you saw your lock screen.

[enjoltaire-is-canon]

Switching Buses

“I don’t see why you have to be eighteen to drive in Europe,” complained Joly as he stood next to Grantaire, both of them leaning against the parking lot's wall.

School had just ended, and they were hanging around in the parking lot, waiting for the last minute before going to their buses. It was a routine of sorts; everyday, when school ends, they’d stand together and complain about how it was unfair that the driving age was eighteen in Europe. “We can run away to America,” suggested Grantaire. “There we can get a driving license and not spend the whole school day worrying about the wretched thirty minutes we’ll have to spend in the bus at the end of the day.”

While Grantaire always complained about the bus, he secretly loved it. Though that was mostly due to the blond curled angel that sat beside him. He sat at the back of the bus, meaning that four people could comfortably fit beside him. He had moved houses at the beginning of the year and the bus was simultaneously changed. Being the new kid in an already full bus, he ended up sitting at the back, where an avenging angel and his two best friends happened to sit.

They didn’t pay him any mind at the beginning, though they were polite. But once the blond -Enjolras- was talking about the abortion ban with his friends, and Combeferre -one of the two best friends- had asked him about his opinion. They had then gotten into a debate that had ended with them exchanging their social media accounts in order to continue at home.

“How will we buy a car though?” Grumbled Joly, as though they had a chance of surviving there for twenty-four hours.

“Thievery, my dear friend, thievery.”

Enjolras had added a friend of his to the chat to side with him because he, Combeferre and Courfeyrac -the other best friend- were all against the ban. Combeferre and Courfeyrac had ended up abandoning him, leaving him to argue with Enjolras and Feuilly alone. Courfeyrac came and went at various points through the chat, and that was always to only shout and swear at Enjolras. At the end, they’d decided to call it a day because they weren’t getting anywhere, both sides kept coming up with arguments that countered the others’. The next day, however, Enjolras had told him that he’d been good, and had even repeated it. He’d shrugged the compliment off, but had been secretly pleased.

Joly snorted. “And how are you planning on stealing a car when you don’t know how to drive?”

“Well,” he turned to look at him, adopting the air of someone talking to a child. “We can first learn to drive, and then, steal a car.”

“And how are you planning on learning to drive without money?”

“We can ask our parents for some,” he said with a shrug.

“Then why don’t we just ask them to buy us cars?”

Grantaire rolled his eyes.. “I have to go,” he said, straightening up. “See you tomorrow?”

“What? Can’t come back with an argument?” Teased Joly, but he patted him on the back all the same. “See you,” he said before turning to walk to his bus.

He turned to go to his own bus, hurrying slightly when seeing the parking lot was almost empty and that the buses were starting to leave. In his hurry to get to the bus, he skipped it and had to retrace his steps.

“You’re late,” said the teacher the moment he got onto the bus.

He ignored her, as he always did. What was she gonna do? He’s been late all year, if she was going to do something then she would’ve done it by now.

He greeted some kids as he made his way down the aisle, but stopped in his tracks when he saw that his usual seat has been taken. Now that he was actually looking, the bus was overflowing with students. Students that weren’t usually with them. He wanted to kill the kid sitting in his seat, he spends the whole day looking forward to the ride home because he gets to sit beside Enjolras, and now this kid is sitting in his place? But he had to play it cool, so he just opened the middle seat but it didn’t look like it could take his weight, so he turned to the kid in his seat.

“Adam, do you mind sitting here?”

“Yes!” Said Combeferre -apparently relieved-, who was sitting beside him, “you can come back later.”

Adam took his bag and got up, giving him some space to squeeze past him before sitting in the chair.

“Courfeyrac, Savanna, and Adam,” cried the black haired teacher at the front of the bus. “Come to the front.”

“What’s going on?” He asked Combeferre as the students scrambled to their feet.

However, it was Enjolras who answered. He had gotten up to allow Courfeyrac and Savanna to go out. “Some genius decided to merge to buses. Can’t they see there is no place?”

He made an attempt to reclaim his seat, but two students came from the front. “The teacher told us to sit here,” they said.

“Whatever,” grumbled Enjolras, going to the front.

“Who lives in The Hugo Apartments?” Asked the black haired teacher at the front of the bus.

Half of the students raised their arms and he could see the teacher hold back a sigh. “You, you, you, you, and you,” she said, pointing to some students. “You’re going to bus fifteen.”

There was a shuffle as the student got out of the bus and by the time everyone has settled down all the seats were taken and Enjolras and Courfeyrac were standing in the middle of the bus. “Why did you stand up?” Asked Courfeyrac, exparted.

“What was I supposed to do?’ Hissed the blond. “They said the teacher told them to go back.”

“Chloe and Axel come here,” said the teacher, directing two kids to the front. “You can sit here,” she said to Courfeyrac and Enjolras, with a nod at the empty seats before slipping into a seat of her own

The moment they took their seats, the bus started moving and Grantaire settled back in his seat, plugging in his headphones but not playing anything. He lived to eavesdrop on Enjolras and his friends.

The bus exited the school, driving along an abandoned landscape that had smoke rising from it. “That’s where the school’s management should go,” said a seventh grader, nodding at the smoking land.

“It should,” laughed Enjolras, joined by Courfeyrac.

They continued the rest of the ride joking around and complaining about the bus management, and Grantaire had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling when Courfeyrac, Enjolras and Combeferre -who had gone to site beside his friends after the first student was dropped off- started making bets about where the bus would go first.

                                                                                     . . .

“When will the bus come tomorrow?” He asked the teacher, hovering before the open bus door. He was supposed to go down, but he wanted to make sure when the bus will come tomorrow. With the new students and everything, there will surely be a change in schedule.

“Your usual bus will pick you up tomorrow,” said the teacher, but the driver shook his head.

“I’m picking you up tomorrow,” he said. “Only you, though, the others will go with the old bus.”

“Oh okay,” he said and got off.

When the front door slammed shut behind him he threw his bag across the hall, barely holding himself from letting out a frustrated cry, he didn’t want to risk waking his father.

Why did they have to change his bus? He’s been in it the whole year, why change it at the last week of school? He could see Enjolras and his friends laughing and joking around everyday till the last day of school, occasionally getting into debates about recent political movements that always turned into heated arguments and tried to ignore the bang in his chest as he made his way upstairs to his room.

                                                                                  . . .

“Why didn’t you come in the morning?”

Grantaire looked up from his locker to see Enjolras standing standing beside him, his backpack slung casually over his shoulder. “They changed my bus,” he said, taking out his Chemistry book. The halls were filled with chattering students that were making their way to their classes, but Grantaire felt like they were the only two there.

“Is that a permanent thing?” Asked Enjolras, and he had to bite back a smile that bloomed from the feeling of satisfaction spreading through his chest. Was the blond truly upset over that? Upset over him?

“I guess? I mean it’s not like we have much left for the summer holiday, only a week, not counting today.”

“True,” said Enjolras. “So, ugh, I was wondering if I could have your number? Seeing that it's the end of the year and everything.” Added Enjolras quickly.

Grantaire grinned. “Of course. Here,” he took out a sharpie and traced his digits on Enjolras’s forearm.

                                                                                     . . .

Later that night, when Grantaire was clicking away on his phone, it rang. It was an unregistered number, but he knew who it was and picked up.

“Hey,” said Enjolras the moment he pressed the phone to his ear.

“Hey,” he answered, grinning like a fool while thanking the gods he didn’t believe in that Enjolras couldn't see him.

“So, I was wondering if you want to grab some coffee tomorrow? There is this good place that I know. ThoughIunderstandifyoucan’t,” he rushed. “It’s oka-“

“I’m free tomorrow,” he said, cutting the blond short, “eight p.m?”

He could practically hear Enjolras’s smile. “Eight is good.”

[lilacskyent-blog]

Breakfast with Chelsea

It seems crazy to think about in the age of social media, smartphones, and streaming services, but the internet is still new. Do you remember a time before Google? Do you remember dial up? Do you remember the first smartphone? All of these advancements have taken place very quickly, but there are entire generations who have never lived in a world without iPhones, while some, like myself, have the annoying noise dial-up internet made drilled into our memories forever. Now we live in a world of almost endless possibilities through technology. We’ve gone from growing up with our favorite sitcom actors to growing up with our favorite YouTubers. Nowadays most YouTubers are self-taught, but in the beginning, a lot of the big names on the platform were the underdogs of traditional media. Names like Casey Neistat, of course, come to mind, but also Benny and Rafi Fine, who went from filmmaking to YouTube juggernauts with their React series. Last week I got to sit with one of the first ever teen reactors Chelsea, who has threaded the needle between traditional and digital media entertainer for years. From voice acting commercials to web skits and react videos, Chelsea has left her mark in so many projects and in so many forms you may not have realized she was there. Now she streams on Twitch and has amassed a beautiful, supportive community she calls The Walker Horde, based off her love for The Walking Dead.

So how did your entry into traditional media happen?

I’ve been dancing since I was six. A friend of mine asked me to come with her to an audition for a singing role, and I could audition as a backup dancer. We both auditioned and we both ended up getting the part. So, since we’d be doing music videos we decided to take an acting class. Funny enough, my first acting teacher was Adrian R'Mante (Esteban from Suite Life of Zack & Cody.) I fell in love with it, I saw a chance to pursue a career in something I really love. So I got an agent and just started auditioning and going for whatever’s next.

3 Breakfast must haves?

Potatoes of some kind

Pancakes, French Toast, or Waffles

Coffee

What is the source of your obsession with The Walking Dead?

It’s the story. I’ve always loved horror, but TWD has this amazing story that is about the people, not the zombies but set in a horror scenario. There’s never been anything like it done this well. I was twelve when it came out and was transitioning out of dance so I wasn’t seeing many of my friends. It kept me happy and excited for each week with new episodes. Later when I found the fandom online, everyone is so loving and supportive, it gives a strong sense of community. It helped me through my teenage years.

Ok so I have to ask at least 2 questions about FBE, so first, I know you’re from the era when they used casting sites, so how did all that go down, what was on your mind when you first joined?

I’d just started getting into acting, seeing if I liked it, and there was a casting call. So, I originally auditioned for kids react but didn’t hear anything for a little bit. Later on I got an email inviting me to be on teens react. Before that, YouTube was barely on my radar. I was so into movies and tv that I never saw it as a creative platform.  

Second, which 2 reactors and 2 Walking Dead characters would you select to help you survive the zombie apocalypse?

Rick, cause he just doesn’t die. Carol is really loyal. Norah is super smart so she’d be helpful with medical and engineering needs, and then Dionte, cause he’d be a fun person to have to keep your morale up at the end of the world.

So, the zombie apocalypse is here and you only have 3 songs to keep you going. Which songs are they?

Never Let It Die- Watsky

Phoenix- Fall Out Boy

Cold Cold Cold- Cage The Elephant

How did you go from doing the voice of Barbie commercials to taking down villains on Twitch?

I’ve been doing voiceovers for a while, whenever they pop up. I have two sides to my personality cause I love horror but at the same time I like cute, happy girly stuff. There’s so much to look at and enjoy in everything. Crazy special effects gore, happy endings that warm your heart, I love it all.

What’s your goal? Or your dream?

It sounds cliche, but happiness. I keep my dreams big but my goals small. I like to focus on each step. I just want to make people happy and leave the world better than I found it.

As someone who's worked on both sides, what, for you, is the key difference between digital and traditional media?

Both are really different depending on the scale. In a major picture, everyone has a schedule and a place and you have to stay there. It’s a little more stressed and high pace. With digital, there’s nothing really set in stone cause you’re your own boss and you don’t know if it’s gonna take off or if you’re getting anything out of it. At the end of the day, regardless of platform, you’re creating content.

Your journey is absolutely mind-blowing, how do you process the roller coaster you’ve been on?

I’m still figuring that out. I wake up most of the time in awe. I never thought of Twitch as a job, but now I focus on it and do it multiple times a week. Sometimes I sit and start happy crying cause I don’t understand everyone’s love and generosity. I don’t know what I do that makes people happy, but I’m going to keep doing it. As an actor, you face rejection every day, so to come into this much love is amazing. I’m in awe of it.

Would you ever go full traditional or full digital? If something called to me in traditional I would definitely give it my all, but I’d never fully stop streaming or creating content in other ways. I love interacting with the community there, it makes me so happy. I could never just drop it like that.

Do you know how awesome you are?

No, that’s not a word I would use to describe myself.

Chelsea may not think of herself as awesome, but the multitude of people who tune into her streams and get excited when she pops up in YouTube videos definitely do. In a way, the societal shift from traditional to digital media is a huge piece of her story. Who knows, she could’ve been the next coming of age teen movie actress, or the single survivor in a b list horror film, instead, she’s our digital zombie loving hero, and so much more. She’s bringing joy to so many people every day. For most of us, she entered our lives six years ago through React, and now we watch her freak out when people donate in Twitch, we donate to charity streams, and we even make jokes about her gaming chair and it’s plans to take over the world. Chelsea is a genuine person and a genuine entertainer. I can’t wait to see what happens next.

[orribuontheinternet]

Depression and Drawing.

When I was a young lass (I want to say around 7-8 years old), I saw my biological father drawing something while he sat on the porch. The details are fuzzy, but I do remember it being an equine of some sort. He was working in ink. Watching him was so fascinating that I decided that I too wanted to be an artist. To be able to imagine something and put it to paper was a foreign concept to me, one that I was excited about. Oddly enough, my first ever drawing was of an intangible concept: an emotion. I forgot why little me was so knee-deep in sadness at the time, but I remember doodling a self-portrait of a sad, crying baby Olive while holding back my tears. Underneath (or around, I can't recall) was a caption that kind of stated the obvious: "Olivia is sad." When I think about that moment, I wonder if that was a form of foreshadowing since I suffer from...well, Major Depression. But we'll get back to that later. I think this drawing was spawned from a conflict with my siblings, but I can't rightly recall. I do, however, remember that someone tore the picture to pieces. Then came the waterworks.

I want to pause for a second and let you know that I'm going to try not to throw a pity party. I'm not going to whine and stuff this note with melodramatic hyperbole. If you can stomach an emotional artist digging deep into her head and making her introspection tangible, I encourage you to keep reading. If not, I respect your decision to stop.

To segue on to a brighter note, I started drawing in elementary school. I remember the exhilarating feeling of finishing my work. My proudest moment, aside from a (not) Sonic-themed powerpoint, was a storybook I made in fifth grade. It was a flip book of some sort, and very colorful. I think it had something to do with James and the Giant Peach considering it was a book report. But that was an impression I left. Olive, the artist. This carried on into middle school, where I first discovered anime thanks to an art teacher who had the magic VCR/TV cart we 90s kids remember fondly. He showed us Princess Mononoke, one of Hayao Miyazaki's well-renowned works. It was um...horrifying. The film scared the everloving shit out of me, but I was intrigued by it. There was something really cool about the way the people looked, far different from the Ms. Frizzles and Rugrats I came to know. It captivated me, and when I got over the stomach-churning blood and guts the movie presented, I strove to attain that cool aesthetic. I was always doodling during my classes and lunchtime and recess. People came to know me as that kid that draws. Some of them flocked to me and asked me to doodle something for them. It was annoying in hindsight, but at the time it brought me immense pride. People were interested in something I was doing! This development boosted my motivation; I drew picture after picture, happily sharing it with anyone who was interested. It was invigorating! Then high school happened, and I realized I wasn't as amazing as I initially thought I was. In 2006 I was accepted into the prestigious Philadelphia Highschool of Creative and Performing Arts (henceforth shortened to "CAPA," as to avoid the apparent mouthful of syllables). I attended with a major in visual arts, which I took alongside my core classes, i.e., math, science, and English. The first few months were humbling, to say the least. I took ceramics, graphic art, and observational drawing. During this year, I also discovered the magic (to a 15-year-old anyway) of Naruto. That was my biggest obsession since the Dragonball Z/Rurouni Kenshin/Outlaw Star/Big O/etcetera days. Where I used to make "Dark Sonic" characters and the like,  I made a step towards creating a world of my own. Thus, after a painful defeat in an original character tournament, I decided it was time to start harnessing my writing and narrative skills, as well as my drawing skills. And so I strove to improve, even with those dents in my pride. It became something I was proud of, almost an obsession. I wanted to share it with the rest of the world, so I went for it.

(The first piece I’ve shared with the internet via deviantART.)

This is where my real artistic journey began. When I started, I had no idea of how mentally, physically, and emotionally tolling this would be. Half the time I've made things way more difficult than they've needed to be: sleepless nights, crouching over a desk, risky investments that granted little to no return and thus resulted in me digging myself into a deeper hole of debt, periods of psychological agony–I've experienced a great deal since I started creating these...things. In my naivety, I envisioned making money off of my creativity, having fun, meeting fans around the world, and hitting up cons like those really cool people I follow on the internet. I started comparing myself to more celebrated, experienced artists, to the point where I'd cry out of eye and earshot and wonder why I can't be as good as them. Why can't I be as skilled, or successful, I'd ask myself. This is when I should have realized that the Depression I suffer from has a voice. It'd tell me that I'd never amount to anything, let alone reach that level of expertise and fame. It was painfully merciless and cruel, and I was its punching bag. I'd start wondering what the point was and why I should even try to engage in this creative expression. Then, something tragic happened:

I realized I was falling out of love with it.

I didn't feel the same exhilaration I'd get when I finished something as simple as a little scribble. I didn't feel the warm burst of energy that I felt when I'd make a breakthrough.  I desperately scrambled for something–anything–that would rekindle my love for creating again. Then, after some introspection, I decided that I wanted to try for animation. It had always fascinated me during my time in grade school, so I did some research and even wrote a thesis about animation and why it inspired me. To an extent, the passion I have for the arts did come back a little, but it was just a spark. When I started college, I was reluctantly proud of myself. I started dreaming big again, thinking about how amazing it would be if I could create my own animated series and bring my narratives to life. And so, the dreams of being able to support myself and my family returned to the forefront of my mind, again. While I hopped and skipped through my first year at uni, I built a lot of friendships I never thought I'd have after a painful summer season. I thought back to how I tried and failed to start an art team and decided to go for it again. And thus, after planning gatherings and messing around with my friends, Exploding Fairies was born!

(Old Exploding Fairies logo.)

The Depression and my wounded confidence, however, wouldn't allow for anything to go past casual hangouts and being a nuisance to my teammates. Everything boiled down to three things:

1) I was unwilling to relinquish control of any of the facets of the alliance and our stories. To me, the story we worked on was my baby, and only I would have a say in whatever developments occurred. 2) I lacked the leadership and communication skills to collaborate with my partners effectively. 3) Considering the nature of my requests, I SHOULD have been paying my partners as an incentive. I lacked the money to compensate them for their time and talent adequately. I could very well be painting myself in a horrible light considering how terribly influential my depression is to my self-esteem. 

(The image above is by @cucoo.)

(Concept drawings of Dan’s actual identity.)

However, exposure and companionship don't necessarily pay the bills. Besides, I was still a "nobody on the internet!" I may as well have kicked sand in their faces. At least, that's what the disease told me. I grew bitter towards the world when Homestuck and a traumatizing anime gained the admiration of my friends. I became green with envy, wondering why my work didn't win such affection. That summer, I went into overdrive. I started an original character tournament of my own and gained a considerable following. I even found love again! 

After a busy three months, I jumped into my second year of college. This is when I finally collapsed under the weight of my mental ailments. Week after week, I stressed almost hyperbolically to the point where a single mistake could mean the end of the world to me. I officially started as an animation student (the first year was mostly core studies with elective and liberal arts on the side), and I wanted to bring my A-game to the forefront. I was going to wow everyone with my knowledge of technology while I navigated through the hills and valleys of my second year. I got to take a course in digital 2D animation, the media I've had my eyes on since I started my college career. Everything just hinged on whether I could manage my workload (I took 18 credits). Apart from the building stress, financial troubles, and impaired health, everything seemed fine. That notion, however, was shattered when I lost my progress on a 2D animation assignment. It was all over. All of that hard work that I put in (without saving, no less) was destroyed by a corrupted file. I didn't have a backup file ready for such an occasion. Admittedly, it was my fault for letting my guard down. I should have known better as a geeky artist!  To me, there was no way I could ever recover from that. I was an idiot and a crappy artist anyway! I was a failure! I was nothing! All of the horrible thoughts that my sickness cataloged was thrust into my conscious mind, impairing my ability to reason. Devastated and afraid, I called my crush and opened up about what happened. The pressure finally cracked me, and she had to talk me down from attempting suicide.

The turn of events affected everything, from my focus to my ability to complete my assignments. My crush advised me on what steps I should take while moving forward. I was hospitalized to prevent any harm I could bring to myself. I really DID want to escape from the unbearable pain my sick mind caused me. Eventually, I had to contact the dean of students and was referred to an affiliated therapist. After conversing with him and the dean, we all decided that it'd be best if I were committed to an outpatient program to start on the road to recovery. Fast forward to 2012 or 2013, when I completely lost faith in myself as an artist, and thus, my love for art. I didn't think it'd happen, but I hit what I conceived as rock bottom. I swore off drawing. It didn't bring me joy anymore, and why continue dabbling in something that I'd never be good at?

Unfortunately, the resulting slump turned out to be thicker than I'd imagine and I entered a state of deep depression. I rarely got out of bed, I overate and sometimes didn't eat at all, I never picked up a pencil or opened photoshop, never reached out to the people who I knew and who loved me...I was virtually dead to the world. Some good things happened that, in hindsight, I should have cherished. For starters, my crush became my girlfriend, and we lived together in an apartment in Center City. I was too smothered in the fog to show my appreciation and love for her adequately. She loved me and loved my work, which in turn brought back my passion for creating. If I couldn't financially support myself with my art, the least I could do is bring her joy and feed her imagination. 

(We both love semi-horror and anime, so our roleplays took that direction.)

Sadly, thanks to the disease even something as precious as her happiness wasn't enough. When I look back, I can see the hurt in her eyes, but during the time I had such horrible tunnel vision and was so disappointed about things not working out with my art that I couldn't sense that. Me, a self-proclaimed empath! My desperate greed and envy were my downfall, and I limped my way down the artsy-fartsy road. I'd draw fan art and create fan comics, only to become bitter about either the lack of replies or patrons on Patreon or the perceived disregard for any personal ventures I took. 

I did my first convention at Anime Impulse back in 2015, and after a pretty bad time in the artist alley, I swore off drawing again. I remember nights of staring blankly at the computer screen, smashing Command or Control +Z and ultimately throwing my stylus down, closing photoshop, and crying out of frustration. I remember pulling my hair and sobbing when I faced rejection. It was an incredibly painful time for me. That's not to say I still don't experience that now as I totally do, but something happened this year that strengthened my stride.

I posted something on Tumblr earlier this year about my frustration when it comes to creating art. It was specifically about how I get stuck in the "polishing" phase of building a webcomic page, but when I look back, I can actually attribute it to art in general. I became a "perfectionist." Nothing was impressive enough to finish or release, and I'd wind up with more works in progress than finished ones. My morale just kept dipping lower and lower, and finally, when picking up a webcomic project that I started more than a year ago, I vented my frustrations. To this, my crush, who became my fiancé some four years ago, replied with this:

"You polish because you’re not confident with your work because you're in an evolution phase. Fear holds you back. So you go back and edit. And edit. And edit. So stop the cycle. Kill the fear by not letting it have time to take hold."

Her words of encouragement and insight changed my perspective in ways I've never expected. It was almost like it triggered an epiphany or a breakthrough in my mind! I was reminded of her love and faith in me! With that came a ray of hope, that I could try again, and this time, throw my fear-induced caution to the wind! While my depression still has a voice and beats me down from time to time, I realize that it's just scared. I realized that when Brittany and I sat down and played through Celeste together. I related it to my sadness and anxiety surrounding art, and now I'm slowly getting back on my feet. I can't displace the blame and "use" my mental ailments as a scapegoat. I can't come up with excuses to give up on what I do. There is SOMETHING in creating visual media that breathes life into me.

(I started learning to let go.)

Looking towards the future, I hope I can look back on even these trying times and remind myself of where I was and how stronger I've become because of it. I'm still struggling with comparing myself to others and crashing into creative and motivational blocks, but someday I'll rise above it all. Besides, I should be doing it for me, right? The external validation should just be the topping on a sweet sundae.

That's why I keep drawing, in spite of the voice's apprehension. We're going to get through this together, I promise.

[caveartfair]

7 Zines That Helped People Work through Mental Health Issues

For the uninitiated, a “zine” is often defined as a self-published, small-circulation magazine that documents the happenings of a subculture or a niche topic. But in practice, the art of the zine is governed by “non-rules.” A zine can be consist of 40 pages, or just one. It can be entirely made up of pictures or feature no pictures at all. It can make sense, but it doesn’t have to.

During the 1980s, zine-making often involved taking a pile of collages, poems, essays, images, or doodles; lining them up, just so, over the glass of a Xerox machine; then making copies, and stapling together a series of printed pages like this. Copies might be shared with friends or left in a stack at a local record store. Today, publishing a zine can be as simple as one person creating a web page or as elaborate as a small editorial team collaborating on a printed periodical with a cover star. But the non-rules haven’t changed: If you make it and publish it yourself, and it has text, images, or both, you can probably call it a zine.

Perhaps because of this flexibility, artists and other creatives have found in zines a judgment-free space, and for some, it’s a prime medium for discussing serious, personal issues, like mental health. This point was made late last month when an art exhibition in India, organized by one of Time magazine’s 100 most influential people, Dr. Vikram Patel, illustrated how zines can help break down the stigma surrounding mental health. To explore the topic further, we share below seven examples of such zines, with insights from their creators on how these creative projects helped them navigate their own experiences with mental health.

For Girls Who Cry Often (2016)

Excerpt from Lina Wu, For Girls Who Cry Often, 2016. Courtesy of the artist.

Excerpt from Lina Wu, For Girls Who Cry Often, 2016. Courtesy of the artist.

Lina Wu, a Toronto-based artist and illustrator, collected stories and testimonies from over 20 contributors to create the 40-page zine For Girls Who Cry Often. “It’s a nice feeling to be a part of something bigger,” she said of the collaborative creation process.

For the zine, Wu focused on exploring mental health through a femme lens and let her own experiences inform her process. “For much of my life, I noticed that ‘getting emotional’ was seen as a girly or feminine thing—meaning it is often dismissed as dramatic and frivolous,” she explained.

Wu created a dreamy pink atmosphere to backdrop the contributors’ candid and sometimes dark confessions. The zine’s adolescent tone is a nod to the fanzines of the 1990s that gave teenage girls a voice. In fact, Wu points out that zines are accessible art objects because people can easily share and buy them (readers buying copies of For Girls Who Cry Often are encouraged to pay what they can afford).

An interdisciplinary artist, Wu experiments with poetry, illustrations, comics, photography, and design in her zines. And while she doesn’t bring For Girls Who Cry Often to zine fairs anymore, she noted that making it has helped her grow as an artist.

Fuck This Life (2005–present)

Excerpt from Dave Sander, Fuck This Life, 2018. Courtesy of 8ball Community.

Excerpt from Dave Sander, Fuck This Life, 2018. Courtesy of 8ball Community.

Today, Dave Sander (a.k.a. “Weirdo Dave”) is a visual artist known for collaborations with Vans and Supreme. But back in 2005, Sander was cramming newspaper and magazine clippings into his desk drawer almost out of habit. “After I got a lot,” Sander said, “I thought it would be time to make a zine.”

Flipping through the pages of any issue of Fuck This Life is like witnessing the end-of-life montage people describe after a near-death experience. For Sander, zine-making can be an aggressively cathartic process: “You get to kill shit in your own way,” he offered.

Fuck This Life is a stream-of-consciousness compilation of found imagery—like the mushroom cloud of an atomic bomb or porn stars mid-orgasm—the result of Sander channeling his pain to “create a beautiful, loud, brutal fantasyland.” He refers to the zine ashis deepest, darkest best friend. “It was my reason for living, so I guess it saved me,” he said.

Grief Poems (2017)

Excerpt from Chloe Zelkha, Grief Poems, 2017. Courtesy of the artist.

Excerpt from Chloe Zelkha, Grief Poems, 2017. Courtesy of the artist.

Chloe Zelkha describes her father’s death as a “sudden, heartbreaking shock.” Within months, she’d printed out a collection of poems she found in books or discovered through teachers and grieving groups, then spread them out on her kitchen table. There, the Berkeley-based Zelkha began painting onto the pages, cranking out one after another in succession, without drafting or revising. As she found more poems, she created more pages. The result was Grief Poems, a 26-page exercise in letting go.

Zelkha’s introduction to zines was Project NIA’s The Prison Industrial Complex Is… (2010–11), a straightforward explainer zine with minimal text and simple black-and-white illustrations. She sees zines are an inherently raw medium. “That permission that’s kind of baked into the form,” she said, “is liberating.”

Poems by everyone from Kobayashi Issa to W.S. Merwin are coated in Zelkha’s uninhibited brushstrokes. She compared her process with child’s play or dreaming: “If you watch a kid play on their own for long enough, you’ll see lots of fears, feelings, ideas eeking their way into their game, and then transforming in real time. Or when we dream, and different people, places, concerns visit us in weird ways.”

Identity Crisis (2017)

Librarian–slash–zine-maker Poliana Irizarry is probably better known for their autobiographical black-and-white zines, like My Left Foot (2016) and Training Wheels (2013). But with Identity Crisis, the San Jose–based artist seemed the most vulnerable they’ve ever been. “My abuela suffered many miscarriages at the hands of American doctors, and her surviving offspring also struggle with reproductive issues,” Irizarry wrote. “Many Puerto Ricans do.”

Before the birth control pill was approved by the FDA in 1960, nearly 1,500 Puerto Rican women were unknowingly part of one of the earliest human trials for the pill. Between the 1930s and ’70s, nearly one-third of Puerto Rico’s female population of childbearing age had undergone “the operation,” often without being properly educated on its effects.

Irizarry made Identity Crisis,their first full-color art zine,during a South Bay DIY Zine Collective workshop. Personal and family histories intersect across fragmented pictures of succulents and Southwestern landscapes in a half-prose, half-verse journey through Irizarry’s identity. In just a few pages, Irizarry wrestles with intergenerational trauma and their own post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Irizarry speaks directly to their oppressors, defiant and resolute: “I live in spite of you.”

Shit I Made When I Was Sad (a.k.a. sad zine)(2018)

Excerpt from Shit I Made When I Was Sad a.k.a. sad zine, 2018. Courtesy of Malin Rantzer and Anna Persmark.

Excerpt from Shit I Made When I Was Sad a.k.a. sad zine, 2018. Courtesy of Malin Rantzer and Anna Persmark.

It started when Swedish friends Malin Rantzer and Anna Persmark were showing each other drawings and writing in journals they’d made while they were feeling low. “I noticed that some of the stuff we’d drawn resembled the other’s drawing,” Malin remembered, “and I think at that point we realized we should make a zine about being sad.” Rantzer turned to social media and put out a “swenglish/svengelska” (Swedish-English) call for submissions.

The then–Sweden-based duo (Persmark has since relocated to Portland, Oregon) made sad zine by cutting out and taping or pasting their artworks onto new pages, then scanning them and folding them into a booklet. Persmark sees zine-making as one of the most intimate ways of sharing her feelings; she goes out in person to share copies with her community.

“Even if all the submitters did not know each other,” Malin explained, “they were all friends’ friends or friends’ friends’ friends, and maybe that also can contribute to an atmosphere where it is safe to be vulnerable.” While making the individual works helped them heal, Persmack noted that the process of compiling the zine proved to be revelatory: “Sadness is both intensely personal and universal,” she said.

Sula Collective Issue 3: Mental Health (2015)

Oyinda Yemi-Omowum, An Emotional Response to Colours, 2015. Excerpt from Sula Collective Issue 3: Mental Health, 2015. Courtesy of Sula Collective.

Sula Collective calls itself an online “[maga]zine for and by people of colour.” Initially an exclusively online zine—different from a blog in name and ethos—it reflected its Gen-Y creators and their new ideas of what a zine could be. It’s one of the more visible new zines, among many, with the purpose of turning an online network into an IRL community. Ever since they founded it in 2015, co-creators Kassandra Piñero and Sophia Yuet See knew they wanted to dedicate an issue to mental health.

Sula Collective Issue 3: Mental Health sheds light on how teenagers of color navigate their parents’ more conservative understanding of mental health issues. “We wanted to discuss the things we kept hidden from our parents or couldn’t talk about with friends,” Piñero and Yuet See explained.

The issue was published in November 2015 and serves as a record of how today’s young artists are taking intersectional approaches to dealing with mental health issues. For example, Oyinda, a then–16-year-old Nigerian girl living in London, submitted a color-coded collage of self-portraits and textures called An Emotional Response to Colours. The literary submissions are paired with original artworks, sourced from Sula Collective’ssubmissions inbox, which range from digital art to watercolors. When asked about what makes zines a unique medium, Piñero and Yuet See answered, simply, “control.”

Shrinks: A Retrospective (2018)

Excerpt from Karla Keffer, Shrinks: A Retrospective, 2018. Courtesy of the artist.

Excerpt from Karla Keffer, Shrinks: A Retrospective, 2018. Courtesy of the artist.

Shrinks is part of Karla Keffer’s zine series “The Real Ramona,” where she discusses being diagnosed with and treated for PTSD after almost 30 years in therapy. The Mississippi-based artist found a sense of direction for her work, and Shrinks in particular, through learning about the Satanic Panic of the 1980s.

This phenomenon (which gave daytime television hosts the ratings of their dreams) involved psychologists across America fueling a nationwide hysteria by diagnosing patients with satanic ritual abuse (SRA) and sending them off to tough-love camps.

“Shrinks are human and fallible,” Keffer explained. “I had put a great deal of trust in their infallibility.” In Shrinks, Keffer created profiles of every therapist she’s ever had—like Julie the gaslighter and Jill the racist. Survivors of abuse are often—and paradoxically—burdened with the task of seeing through the abuse and saving themselves. “One of the things I found difficult was sorting out what had happened with each therapist—like, did she/he really say that outlandish thing?” Keffer recalled.

So much of zine-making is about reclaiming—reclaiming the freedom of expression, reclaiming space, reclaiming the past. And, as Keffer put it, “you’ve made your own book, which is not something you experience when you’re writing short stories and sending them to lit mags.” If any one thing can define zines as a medium, it’s the unbridled control it gives artists.

from Artsy News

[nikkidrobertson]

4 Back to School Tips for New (and not so new) School Librarians

*originally written for School Library Journal

Congratulations on your new job as a school librarian! It is hands down the absolutely best job...EVER!  Last year, entering my twenty-sixth year as an educator and twenty-first year as a school librarian, I found myself in the position of being a new librarian again in quite a few ways.  I retired from Alabama and moved to Texas for an awesome school library position to work for an administrator for whom I have great respect and admiration. I moved from working at a high school library for the past twelve years to working at an elementary school. I moved from having a flexible schedule to a fixed schedule as part of the Specials rotation with Art, Music, and PE. I moved from having amazing, full time library aides to having no full time aide. I changed from having no district library supervisor to having and incredibly supportive one. I moved from not having a unified district library structure to having a very well structured program. So much was all new to me! Below are four tips to help you as you enter this new chapter of your life.

Get Connected

Being a school librarian can be a shockingly isolating profession, especially after having formed tight, supportive networks while you were a classroom teacher.  As a school librarian you are in a sort of no man’s land. You aren’t part of the teacher peer group, you aren’t part of the administrative peer group. Often, you are the only person in your school that works in and understands what it takes to run an active, engaging, supportive library.  Many school districts, unfortunately, often perpetuate this isolation by not allowing time for district librarians to meet and plan collaboratively which only exacerbates the isolation.

FIND YOUR PEOPLE

Don’t wait around for your district to connect you. Reach out to the other librarians in your district and find out what you have in common. Maybe your children both play softball, go to gymnastics, or dance class. Perhaps you could set up playdates, or other social interactions to get together outside the school day.  My favorite since my children are grown and out of the house is to set up weekend brunch/lunch meetings or after school dinner meetings. Talk, have fun, swap ideas and plan. Plus, it’s fun to have time away with friends who really get each other. Don’t stop there. Connecting with librarians outside of your school, district, and state, and country brings a unique worldview into your library program and enriches student learning.

Where To Find Your People

Twitter

Twitter is one of the best places you can go to connect, share, learn and grow with other school librarians and connected educators. Twitter is how I went from being a burned out educator to feeling like I never want to do anything else but teach.  Teaching before Twitter was lonely, frustrating, and boring. Teaching with Twitter is energizing, invigorating, fun, creative, and I never want to get off this ride of bringing awesome learning opportunities to my students and teachers.

There are a few secrets to truly harnessing the power of Twitter.  

Hashtags: By following, commenting, sharing, and connecting using hashtags you will maximize your own professional learning.  

Three hashtags I’d recommend for school librarians are:

#TLChat

#FutureReadyLibs

#ISTELib

Don’t limit yourself to just these hashtags. Make sure to connect using state education hashtags, makerspace hashtags, and educational technology hashtags as well.

Twitter Chats: Twitter chats are the scheduled conversations, usually in a Q/A format lead by a moderator or moderators that take place on a weekly or monthly basis.

Two places to find hashtags for you, your teachers, and administrators are:

Participate Learning Chats

Cybraryman’s Educational Hashtags

Facebook

        Facebook is a great place to join groups. A few of my favorite Facebook Groups include:

Future Ready Librarians

ISTE Librarians Network

The School Librarian’s Workshop

MakerSpaces and the Participatory Library

Professional Development Resources for School Librarians

Below are a few professional development resources where you can find your people and have official professional development at the same time.

Future Ready Librarians Webinars

Library 2.0 Webinar Series

ISTE Librarians Network Professional Development

I owe my much of my success to my PLN. Without their strength, support, guidance, ideas and more I would not be able to accomplish so many of my professional and personal goals.  Through social media connections I have developed true friendships with other librarians and educators who will cry with you and lift you up when you are struggling and laugh, dance, and celebrate with you when you are successful.

Be Fearless

Be fearless even if you are trembling on the inside.  Be the one who demonstrates that it is ok to not know something but be willing to learn, fail, and start again. We need to model for both our students and our teachers the willingness to not know everything and the need to not control everything.  

While I am in no way a fan of being on a fixed schedule as part of the Specials rotation, was awesome to have a captive audience to try out new ideas garnered through my incredible and diverse PLN (Professional Learning Network).  I loved learning about a new technology, app, website, craft, and more and knowing that I could go into work the next day and try it out with the kids even if I didn’t really know how to do it myself. Part of the fun was learning right along with the students and letting them teach me!

We also need to assist our teachers with expanding collaboration beyond the school building to forge authentic real world learning opportunities with others across the country and around the world using video conferencing tools like Google Hangouts, YouTube Live, and Skype. Events like Read Across America, World Read Aloud Day, International Dot Day, Andy Plemmons’ Picture Book Smackdown, Elissa Malespina’s virtual debates, Stony Evans’ #StonyStories empowering students to be in house PD and national presenters, National Poetry Month/Poem in Your Pocket Day, Mystery Skype, and so many more events can be made exponentially better by connecting with other schools celebrating or doing the same things.  I love that Shannon Miller put together a Google Document this past year where we can all share monthly Library Celebrations, any of which could be made collaborative.  

One new technology I want to use this year is #GridPals via FlipGrid. I introduced my students and school to FlipGrid during my first year.  Students, teachers, administrators, and parents could all contribute to our two FlipGrid topics; Book of the Day and Quote of the Day.  These grids were then incorporated into our morning news show. That way the whole school community had an opportunity to be part of the morning announcements.  

This year I want to connect my students through the new #Gridpals program. While FlipGrid has a Google Form where you can connect your students with other students around the world, you can always team up with another teacher or teachers you know to do something similar on your own.

I challenge you this year to be fearless! Part of being fearless is stepping out and trying new things even if you have never tried them before.  The willingness to learn and put yourself out there even if failure ensues (and it will) is the most fearless thing you can do!

Remember That You Are HUMAN

Entering a brand new chapter as a school librarian I set an impossibly high bar for myself in part because I knew what I had been able to do in my past schools.  I failed to take into account all of the supports that I had in place in my old schools that I no longer had in my new school; a full time aide, a flexible schedule, student library aide (a great high school perk), and more.  

I worked myself at a frenzied pace to try to meet my own unrealistic goals. I weeded a collection that had not been weeded properly in twelve years with the help of my new district library supervisor, Becky Calzada. I genrefied the collection. I ripped shelving off the walls, moved and discarded furniture, and took apart and rearranged the circulation desk. I started a morning news show for our school’s morning announcements. I created makespace style centers and introduced cool new technologies to the kids like green screens, robotics, coding, and more. My third through fifth grade students created and maintained digital portfolios.

I found myself working all night at home and all weekend just to keep up with all the tasks I had heaped on my professional plate. I was exhausted, frustrated, angry, and after just the first year at my new school I was quickly moving into burnout mode.

Then I talked to my library hero and mentor, Jennifer Lagarde.  After attentively listening to my woes she said, “What advice would you give another librarian if they were saying these same things to you?”  Jennifer also asked, “Would you talk to another librarian the way you are talking to yourself?” Wow! Jennifer’s words really made me stop and think.  

I would advise another librarian to choose just one goal for each school year and concentrate on that. I’d also say, “Give yourself a break. Celebrate the cool things you are doing rather than beating yourself up over the things you aren’t doing.”  Being a connected educator is great for ideas and support from people who “get you” but can also make you feel as if you aren’t doing enough. As long as students are your main focus you are moving in the right direction. You are not a superhero. You are a beautiful, wonderful, talented human being with much to offer to your new students, staff, administrators, parents, and community members.

Make Community Connections

The PTA, parents, and grandparents this first year in Texas were my saving grace. I was so fortunate to have an involved and supportive PTA.  They took charge of the first Scholastic Book Fair of two booked by the previous librarian for the school year. I still felt as if I was drowning when that first book fair came around and couldn’t have possibly done it without them.

I was also blessed with some pretty incredible parent and grandparent volunteers.  With over 800 students and a tight back to back fixed schedule the ability to just shelve books was overwhelming.  My two grandparent volunteers, Ms. Gloria and Ms. Jean came every Tuesday and Thursday to shelve books. Whew! If it weren’t for them I would be buried under piles of books.  Ms. Phan, Ms. Bercu, Ms. Roberts, and Ms. Williams were also great helpers, often coming in to shelve books but also to help out with our library center activities.

My new school also hosted a WatchDog Dads program. My very basic understanding of the program is that the dads come to school with their kids and help out where needed but also spend time with their kids in class.  Just at moments when I thought I would just curl up into a ball and start crying, a WatchDog Dad would walk into the library and save me. One day in particular the Internet went out which meant my book checkout system was down as were most of my center activities. I was frantically trying to devise a plan when three WatchDog Dads walked into the library. Together we quickly came up with a plan of action and the day was saved!

My principal and front office staff also helped me out by sending substitute teachers to the library whenever they had a planning period on their schedule. I liked this because I could learn more about the school and community by talking and making friends with them. I can’t believe I went 25 years without knowing you could have substitutes help out like that!

Final Thoughts

More than any other advice I can give I think the most important things you can do as a new librarian is have fun, don’t take yourself too seriously, and always put serving others with joy (even when you don’t feel joyful) before all other tasks (management tasks can wait...people are more important).  

Want to read my 5 Tips for New School Librarians (and those who aren't so new) posted summer of 2017?  Click HERE and enjoy!

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[jamesstegall]

How digital beauty filters perpetuate colorism

When Lise was a young teenager in Georgia, her classmates bullied her relentlessly. She had moved with her family from Haiti a few years earlier, and she didn’t fit in with the other students. They teased her about her accent, claimed she “smelled weird,” and criticized the food she ate.  But most often they would attack her with remarks about her dark complexion. Sometimes teachers would send her home from school because she couldn’t stop crying. “I remember going home and I would take those copper wire things that you scrub dishes with,” she says. “I would go to the bathroom and I would take my mom’s bleach cream and scrub my skin with it.” 

And it wasn’t just white classmates. Black students harassed her too—for being an outsider, for being too different. She remembers them asking, “Why is she so dark?” 

Just when she thought it couldn’t get worse, the phone in her palm became an endless stream of pictures of beautiful, lighter-skinned women getting dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of likes and affirming comments. She slowly began to notice that the world wanted parts of her—like her curves and her lips—but not things like her dark skin or her hair. Not her whole self, all together. 

As she struggled to cope with the abuse, Lise convinced herself that the darkness of her skin was to blame. And social media platforms and the visual culture of the internet suggested the same thing. 

Even among those closest to her, the undesirability of her darkness was reinforced. She grew to realize that her mom, aunts, and friends all used the skin-lightening creams she’d borrowed after school, many of which contain toxins and even carcinogens. It was confusing: her community fought hard against racism, but some of the prejudice she experienced came from Black people themselves. 

And social media was just making it worse.

The prejudice Lise experienced—colorism—has a long history, driven by European ideals of beauty that associate lighter skin with purity and wealth, darker tones with sin and poverty. Though related to racism, it’s distinct in that it can affect people regardless of their race, and can have different effects on people of the same background. 

Colorism exists in many countries. In India, people with darker skin were traditionally ranked lower in the caste system. In China, light skin is linked to beauty and nobility. In the US, not only Black people face colorism; white Italian or Greek people with darker skin can experience it too. Historically, when African-Americans were enslaved, those with lighter skin were often given more domestic tasks where those with darker skin were more likely to work in the fields.

These prejudices have been part of the social and media landscape for a long time, but the advent of digital images and Photoshop created new ways for colorism to manifest. In June 1994, notoriously, Newsweek and Time both ran cover images of O.J. Simpson’s mug shot during his murder trial—but on Time’s cover, his skin was markedly darker. The difference sparked outrage: Time had darkened the image in what the magazine’s photo illustrator claimed was an attempt to evoke a more “dramatic tone”. But the editing reflected that the darker the man, the more criminal the American public assumes him to be. 

This association has very real consequences. A 2011 study from Villanova University found a direct link between the severity of sentences for 12,000 incarcerated women and the darkness of their complexion. 

And today, thanks to the prevalence of selfies and face filters, digital colorism has spread. With Snapchat, Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook a part of billions of people’s everyday lives, many of us find that people see far more pictures of us than ever before. But there are biases built into these systems. At a basic level, the imaging chips found in most personal cameras have pre-set ranges for skin tones, making it technically impossible to accurately capture the real variety of complexions. 

Over 200 million people use Snapchat Lenses every day, some of them to lighten their skin tone. Other filters and automatic enhancing features can do the same on Instagram and TikTok.

And the images that do get taken are often subject to alteration. Snapchat reports that over 200 million people use its filter product, Lenses, every day. Some of them use it to lighten their skin tone; other filters and automatic enhancing features can do the same on Instagram and TikTok. Photo technologies and image filters can do this in ways that are almost imperceptible. Meanwhile, social media algorithms reinforce the popularity of people with lighter skin to the detriment of those with darker skin. Just this week, Twitter’s image-cropping algorithm was found to prefer faces that are lighter, thinner, and younger.  

Selfie-esteem

We’ve reported before on the ways in which digital technologies are narrowing beauty standards. The phenomenon has led to the concept of the “Instagram face,” a particular look that’s easily accessible through the proliferation of editing tools. Photos reflecting this look, with a small nose, big eyes, and fuller lips, attract more comments and likes, leading recommendation algorithms to prioritize them. We also interviewed researchers who say beauty ideals are narrowing even more dramatically and quickly than they expected—with especially profound effects on the way young girls, in particular, see themselves and shape their identity. 

But it could be particularly catastrophic for women with darker complexions, says Ronald Hall, a professor at Michigan State University and an expert on colorism. As more European looks are increasingly held up as an ideal, “these young girls imitate these behaviors, and those who are super dark-complected see no way out,” he says. “Those are the ones who are most at risk for harming themselves.” 

That harm can involve bleaching or other risky body treatments: the skin-lightening industry has grown rapidly and is now worth more than $8 billion worldwide each year. But beyond physical risks, researchers and activists have also begun documenting troubling emotional and psychological effects of online colorism.

Amy Niu researches selfie-editing behavior as part of her PhD in psychology at the University of Wisconsin, Madison. In 2019, she conducted a study to determine the effect of beauty filters on self-image for American and Chinese women. She took pictures of 325 college-aged women and, without telling them, applied a filter to some photos. She then surveyed the women to measure their emotions and self-esteem when they saw edited or unedited photos. Her results, which have not yet been published, found that Chinese women viewing edited photos felt better about themselves, while American women (87% of whom were white) felt about the same whether their photos were edited or not.

Niu believes that the results show there are huge differences between cultures when it comes to “beauty standards and how susceptible people are to those beauty filters.” She adds, “Technology companies are realizing it, and they are making different versions [of their filters] to tailor to the needs of different groups of people.” 

This has some very obvious manifestations. Niu, a Chinese woman living in America, uses both TikTok and Douyin, the Chinese version (both are made by the same company, and share many of the same features, although not the same content.) The two apps both have “beautify” modes, but they are different: Chinese users are given more extreme smoothing and complexion lightening effects. 

She says the differences don’t just reflect cultural beauty standards—they perpetuate them. White Americans tend to prefer filters that make their skin tanner, teeth whiter, and eyelashes longer, while Chinese women prefer filters that make their skin lighter.  

Niu worries that the vast proliferation of filtered images is making beauty standards more uniform over time, especially for Chinese women. “In China, the beauty standard is more homogeneous,” she says, adding that the filters “erase lots of differences to our faces” and reinforce one particular look. 

“It’s really bad”

Amira Adawe has observed the same dynamic in the way young girls of color use filters on social media. Adawe is the founder and  executive director of Beautywell, a Minnesota-based nonprofit aimed at combating colorism and skin-lightening practices. The organization runs programs to educate young girls of color about online safety, healthy digital behaviors, and the dangers of physical skin lightening. 

Adawe says she often has to inform the girls in her workshops that their skin is being lightened by social media filters. “They think it’s normal. They’re like, ‘Oh, this is not skin lightening, Amira. This is just a filter,’” she says. “A lot of these young girls use these filters and think, ‘Oh my God, I look beautiful.’”

“They think it’s normal… [but] it’s contributing to this notion that you’re not beautiful enough.”

Amira Adawe, Beautywell

It’s so easy to do—with a few clicks, users can make their appearance more similar to everyone else’s ideal—that many young women end up assuming a lighter-skinned identity online. This makes it easier to find acceptance in the digital world, but it can also make it harder for them to identify with their real complexion. 

When Adawe explains how using a face filter can be part of a cycle of colorism, she is often met with resistance. The filters have become essential to the way some girls see themselves. 

“It’s really bad.” she says. “And it’s contributing to this notion that you’re not beautiful enough.” 

And it’s complicated regardless of your skin tone.

Halle, a single biracial woman in her mid-20s, thinks a lot about her own racial identity. She says most people would use the term “ambiguous” to describe her appearance. “I have whiter features,” she says. “My skin complexion is lighter than some other mixed-race girls’, and my hair is less curly.” She also used to be a regular user of dating apps. And from conversations with her friends who have darker complexions, she realized that her experience on dating apps was very different from theirs.

“Quite candidly, we compare matches and number of matches,” she says. “That is where I started to realize: wait a minute, there’s something going on here. My friends who identify as Black or Afro-Latina don’t get as many matches.” 

It’s already known that beauty-scoring algorithms, which rank the attractiveness of images, give higher scores to whiter women. In March, we reported on how the world’s largest face recognition company, Face++, sells a racially biased beauty scoring algorithm that it markets to digital platforms, and online dating sites in particular.

Halle says her experience on these apps reflects the wider world, too. “This is deeply rooted in racism, colorism, and everything that’s happening in our society,” she says. The experience became so frustrating for her that she deleted all her dating apps. MIT Technology Review has reached out to many dating sites to ask whether they use beauty-scoring algorithms for matches, but none will confirm or deny. 

Even if they do not use systems like Face++, however, they do use recommendation algorithms to learn user preferences over time. And this is another way that colorism and bias can creep in and be perpetuated. 

Recommendations based on user preferences often reflect the biases of the world—in this case, the diversity problems that have long been apparent in media and modeling. Those biases have in turn shaped the world of online influencers, so that many of the most popular images are, by default, of people with lighter skin. An algorithm that interprets your behavior inside such a filter bubble might assume that you dislike people with darker skin. And it gets worse: recommendation algorithms are also known to have an anchoring effect, in which their output reinforces users’ unconscious biases and can even change their preferences over time. 

Meanwhile, platforms including TikTok have been accused of intentionally “shadow-banning” content from some Black creators, especially those discussing the Black Lives Matter movement or racism in general. That diminishes their reach, and the cycle reinforces itself further. (In a statement, a TikTok spokesperson said “We unequivocally do not moderate content or accounts on the basis of race.”)

Michigan State’s Ronald Hall says he’s “extremely worried” about the impact on women of color in particular: “Women of color are constantly bombarded with these messages that you gotta be light in order to be attractive.”

Adawe, meanwhile, thinks the only solution is an all-out ban on filters that lighten faces. She says she has emailed Snapchat asking for just that. “Social media companies keep [creating] filters because the demand is so high,” she says. “But to me, I think they’re promoting colorism, whether they realize it and whether it’s intentional or not.” 

A spokesperson for Snap told MIT Technology Review, “Our goal is to build products that are fully inclusive of all Snapchatters, and we’ve put in place a number of processes and initiatives to help us do that. Our guidelines for all Snapchatters—which also apply to Lens submissions—prohibit discrimination and the promotion of stereotypes, and we have an extensive review process in place for Lenses, which includes testing them on a wide range of skin tones.” 

The company says it is partnering with experts for advice, and earlier this year it launched an initiative to build an “inclusive camera”, which is meant to be better at capturing a broader range of skin tones.

A completely different lens

Lise, who now lives in Minnesota, struggled with the effects of colorism for a long time. She went to therapy, watched endless YouTube tutorials on photo editing, and even bought a $600 camera that she hoped would make her look less dark in photos. Eventually she came to realize how harmful it had been.

“Now I just view everyone’s social media page with a completely different lens,” she says.

Today, she’s a new mom: when we spoke via Zoom, I was greeted by her cooing and wiggling baby. I was delighted, but Lise apologized profusely while she adjusted the lens. 

She says she wants to see more raw photos online that show beautiful women who look like her. She no longer edits her skin color in photos, and she tries hard to stop the negative thoughts in her head, though it can be hard. “Oh, I’ll be darned if I see someone saying anything to a beautiful dark-skinned woman,” she says. “I don’t care if it’s online, I don’t care if it’s in person—I’m going to call you out. I just can’t be quiet about it anymore, but it’s taken years. I’m going to be more conscious about what I’m teaching my son.”

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[edogawatranslations]

999: Alterna (1) - Part 3, Chapters 8-9

Table of Contents | Previous: Part 3, Chapters 6-7

Chapter 8

I doubted my ears.

“No way.” Despair assaulted me from within. The theory I had so confidently crafted crumbled beneath me.

“But Junpei, your reasoning isn’t wrong,” Lotus added.

Unable to understand what she meant, I tilted my head. “...What do you mean?”

“My daughter was a Stage 3 patient of the disease.” Lotus stared emptily into space. She had a somber expression on her face. “She caught it nine years ago, just like June and that incompetent imp over there. ...If she’s alive, she would be about your age.”

“...Did she die?”

Lotus nodded, her gaze still empty. “Probably...”

“Probably?”

“She vanished. Right after she recovered from the disease.”

“Huh?”

What did this mean? I thought that her daughter had died from Angel Fever, but I realized now that that wasn’t the case.

“Do you remember the string of child disappearances in the city nine years ago?”

After Lotus mentioned it, the memories of the case popped into my head. “Sixteen boys and girls suddenly went missing one night, right?”

All of them unexpectedly returned two days later, so the case didn’t make a large splash in the media. But since the kids who disappeared were around my age, it left quite an impression on me.

I continued, “When questioned, every single one of them claimed that they were captured by aliens or something.”

Because all of the kids came back unharmed, the police investigation ended without reaching a proper conclusion. It’s likely that the truth is still shrouded in darkness to this day.

“All of them were unharmed? No, that’s a blatant lie.” Lotus pursed her lips, and a look of anguish spread across her face. “My daughter disappeared that same day. But she never returned home.”

Lotus choked up before she could finish her last sentence.

“Did you speak with the police?”

“Of course! But they wouldn’t listen to me at all. I suspect it was because I worked in the nighttime entertainment business, and was a divorced single mother living with her only daughter. They kept telling me without mincing words, ‘Aren’t you the reason she disappeared?’”

Her eyes overflowed with tears, which soon began streaming down her face.

“She wouldn’t disappear of her own volition. She was a good girl. There’s no way she would run away and abandon me. I decided I couldn’t rely on the police, so I hired a detective to thoroughly investigate the whereabouts of my daughter, and to look into the other 16 kids who had disappeared the same day. I thought there would definitely be some kind of connection.”

“Did you figure anything out?”

“The other kids had all been patients at the same hospital at some point. My daughter wasn’t any different. She was hospitalized there when she caught Angel Fever.”

“What?!”

“After looking into it even further, I discovered all of the kids had Angel Fever. Not just that, but they all reached Stage 3.”

I couldn’t help but feel astonished. “None of that was reported in the news. Did nobody realize?”

“It didn’t take much effort to find out. I don’t think the media was ignorant of the fact. I think there was a gag order in effect. There must have been some powerful forces at play. I wonder if that’s also why the police investigation was cut short.” Lotus continued her confession, letting out the sediment that had collected in her heart over all these years. “After she disappeared... I lost my will to live.”

After saying those words, Lotus started rubbing her right wrist. I hadn’t noticed before due to her many accessories, but she had an array of scars left behind from cutting her wrist.

“...I just wanted to feel at peace. But every time, I failed. When I would get carried to the hospital, the doctor would always say ‘You again?’ with a sigh. I’m clumsy with everything, so I wouldn’t end up dying no matter how many times I tried... Then I met a girl at the hospital. She looked like my daughter... She was quite a strange girl.”

Lotus said that she couldn’t fall asleep, so she snuck out of her hospital room and went to go take a walk in the garden. That was when she saw the girl. The girl was around high school age, and she was crouching under a large ginkgo tree, weeping.

“What’s wrong?” Lotus walked up next to the girl and asked.

The girl looked away and repeatedly said, “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to disappear from this world.”

“Since the hospital housed many patients with terminal cancer, I thought she was one of them. She was the complete opposite of me. I only thought about how much I wanted to die and disappear, but she seemed completely devoted to the idea of surviving to the bitter end. If it were possible, I would have traded my life for hers. She taught me about the feeling of joy that comes from waking up every morning and realizing you’re still alive. About how she only then realized how happy it was to have a healthy body. That moment was a truly enlightening experience. It was then that I made up my mind. I knew my daughter probably didn’t exist in this world anymore. But I couldn’t keep crying over it. I had to continue living, living the life that my daughter couldn’t.”

Lotus wiped the tears off her cheek with the back of her hand, and after catching her breath, she started smiling bashfully. “I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot for going off on a rant about myself in a place like this. All of this was just one of Auntie’s crazy made-up stories. Please forget everything I said.”

Following a hearty sniffle, she said, “Now, let’s get back to looking for that key.” Her voice was tinged with a forced sense of joy.

“What happened to the girl you met under the ginkgo tree?” I asked.

Lotus shook her head. “She gave me the will to live. I couldn’t bear to leave without thanking her, so I asked at the hospital reception desk about her, but they couldn’t find any patient who matched her description. Since she looked just like my Nona, I used a photo and went around asking, but I didn’t have any luck.”

“...Nona?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Nona’s the name of my daughter. I love the song ‘Sukiyaki’ - have you heard of it?”

“That Japanese hit by Kyu Sakamoto?”

“Yes. Since Kyu Sakamoto’s name in Japanese contains the character for ‘nine,’ I decided to name my daughter Nona.”

I tilted my head in confusion. I didn’t get it.

She continued, “It’s Latin. The prefix for nine.”

Lotus dived into a thorough explanation. The prefix for one in Latin is “uni,” as in unicorn. Two is “bi,” as in binary numbers. Three is “tri,” like for trio or triple or triangle. Afterwards, there’s “quadri,” “quinque,” “sex,” “sept,” and “octo” is for eight, like in octopus. And lastly, “nona” is for nine.

“Oh, is that why it’s called the Nonary Game?” I asked.

Lotus nodded. According to her, “nonary” meant “of nine things” or “relating to the base-9 number system.”

There were nine of us. Our time limit was nine hours. In order to ultimately escape from this ship, we needed to form a digital root of [9] and open the [9] door. Everything involved the number 9.

“I find it vexing that this game shares a name with my daughter,” Lotus said while peeking inside a nearby cupboard. “I’m going to live and escape this ship. I swore back then that I would live a long life for my daughter.” She continued with a smile. “Maybe the girl I met back then was Nona’s ghost... I wonder about that nowadays.”

“That’s enough with the ghost stories,” I replied with a laugh. Before I realized, the gloom in the air had lifted.

“I think there’s probably an afterlife,” Lotus said. “Even now, I sometimes sense my daughter staring at me. It feels very warm. I’m sure she’s looking over me... and always encouraging me, ‘Keep going, Mom!’ That’s why I can’t let her down.”

“We’ll survive and escape from here. For sure.”

Just as how Lotus was encouraged by that curious girl - Nona’s ghost? - I felt empowered after hearing Lotus’s story. It was too early to give up. For Lotus, for her vanished daughter, for Akane, for the others in this game, for my dad, for my mom, for my teachers, for my friends - for everyone I’m connected to, and for myself, I had to survive no matter what.

“...I found it.”

I heard Santa mumble from afar. I turned around and saw a green key flying at me in mid-air.

“Nice find, Santa.” I caught the key and stood up.

“Not like I was tryin’ to help. I got hungry and was lookin’ for somethin’ to eat,” he said.

As usual, he had a sour expression on his face and spoke brashly. But this time, I didn’t feel irritated. He was standing in front of the dishwasher. There couldn’t possibly have been any food there.

“Your sister must have it tough, having a rebellious big brother like you,” Lotus laughed.

“I don’t have one. A sister.”

“What? But earlier-”

“She died of Angel Fever,” Santa added brusquely.

He had on his usual poker face, but this time, I noticed it. I had thought him to be a completely cold-hearted person, but for a moment, I caught a glimpse of the deep sorrow in his eyes. That was most likely the real Santa. He probably was only pretending to be tough.

“Let’s go.”

I stood in front of the green door and inserted the key I received from Santa into the keyhole. The screen changed to display the question text.

~Question! What is the scaaaary disease that connects the nine of you together?~

Without hesitation, I typed in “Angel Fever.” My bracelet started flashing red, but I wasn’t concerned. After all, I had complete confidence in the answer.

After I hit the enter key, the door unlocked somewhat anticlimactically. Lotus whistled.

“Let’s move,” I said.

Right as I brought my hand to the doorknob, I heard the sound of a door opening from somewhere behind me. I turned around, but the entrance to the kitchen was closed.

Footsteps echoed.

The three of us exchanged glances. Someone else was here. Whoever it was walked slowly down the hallway before the kitchen.

“...Could it be Zero?”

Lotus braced herself for what was to come. Santa expressed an unusual look of concern.

The footsteps stopped right in front of the entrance to the kitchen. The three of us focused our gazes there. Before long, the doorknob turned-

“Jumpy?” Akane peeked her head through the open door.

“Ka-, no, June...?”

My mind couldn’t process the situation fast enough. I stood there paralyzed, staring back at her in shock.

“Jumpy! I’m so relieved-” Akane cut across the kitchen and flew over to me, on the verge of tears.

“H-Hey... June...”

While weeping like a child, she started patting my chest. From what I could tell, her fever had gone down.

“Leaving me behind like that... that’s terrible! I felt completely helpless.”

“Where have you been all this time?”

“What are you saying? I’ve been sleeping in bed. In Room 92.”

“What? But...”

“I dozed off for a bit... And when I woke up, everyone was gone. I was shocked.”

I still couldn’t fathom what had happened. At the very least, I could tell that Akane wasn’t lying.

“I’m glad. Now we can forge ahead without worry,” Lotus said.

As I stood there still in shock, Lotus put her own hand on the doorknob and opened the door.

“Let’s go, June,” I said.

Thinking everything through could wait. Right now, we had to focus on safely clearing this game. That should be the only thing on our minds as we moved forward.

“Yes!”

Akane’s reply was brimming with energy.

Chapter 9

...Nine years ago?

After listening to their conversations, I finally understood everything.

I can’t believe it.

Who is responsible for this mischief?

...God.

That was the only answer that entered my mind.

Next: Part 4, Chapters 1-2