#i swallowed that pill unquestioningly

[mistress-of-malevolence]

...And if you're gonna call me a bitch, you better put dumb in front of it, because guess who bought a bottle of "melatonin" from the pharmacy after staring at the shelf for actually 5 minutes trying to decide what dose to get only realizing several hours later that it wasn't melatonin, but magnesium AFTER swallowing a capsule and not even from the taste but from taking a second to READ THE FUCKING LABEL TWICE.

*points thumbs at myself* this girllll

[biff-adventurer]

so... writing is hard. like, writing effectively is hard. it's easy to just write whatever comes to you without a second glance. that's fine if you're enjoying yourself! but to do that for years, unquestioningly, and then imply that you have high expectations of others... that is a deluded notion of your own skill level.

with less and less people using their critical thinking skills and losing them in the process, even RP spaces have become very polarizing and lack room for complicated and messy human relationships.

to be clear, when i say complicated, i don't mean: "my character has done unspeakable, horrible things and i must always play out those dark themes. people who don't want to roleplay them are weak, simple, or unreasonable. this is a high intellect exercise and absolutely not torture porn for the sake of it."

(i've actually seen a person like this)

complicated and messy mean, to me, that characters can be wrong about things for completely understandable reasons. that feelings make sense. that it's okay for characters to call out behaviours that they don't like, and that's not considered "drama". that truths they encounter are uncomfortable and don't ever get resolved. that it's okay for characters to be ignorant and then learn and grow, and for other characters to give them that opportunity, within reason.

all of that leads to character building and good stories. because RP isn't really about how well people write on a technical level. it's about how our characters interact to create unforgettable memories.

the sense of elitism that people feel about their unchallenged standards is really disheartening. i've encountered it a lot over the years. as someone who studied literature--expressly, how to read literature and determine its meaning--i witness these immature attitudes and i want to scream.

it's okay to feel good about your writing. it's unrealistic to think that your writing is at a high level without really taking a hard look at who you are, what you want, and why your words aren't reaching someone. this drives me insane. when anyone says they encountered a problem with your writing, it's not a personal attack. it means you didn't reach them. you failed. that is a hard pill to swallow, but it certainly isn't always the fault of the reader.

if you want to be a strong writer, you have to be able to accept the complexities in life. you have to accept that, despite everything you've personally experienced, you might be dead wrong. you can't let fear control you. the balance to be both strong in your convictions and constantly skeptical of all things is at the core of good writing. that's what makes stories good. that's what makes roleplays good. the technical aspects will inevitably follow.

don't let fear or ego control you. forge ahead.

[unverifiable-frogmatter]

Sometimes I feel blue

http://nymag.com/thecut/2016/10/when-your-husband-doesnt-want-a-second-baby.html

This story sums up what happens sometimes, in my thoughts, as well as what goes on around me. 

Compromise. It’s a word that gets bandied about easily enough, but to all parties concerned, is the true meaning of it fully appreciated?

Expectations bitterly stolen. My own experience has been a bitter pill to swallow. 

I keep this deliberately vague, because I don’t desire to fully disclose the extent of my feelings. 

I won’t deny, however, the impact of children, has been a fully profound one. For me, what it gives me and what I have given away, has been given willingly and received to the great humbleness of my heart. 

For the most part. 

Painful memories of certain experiences still eager to remind me of what can and does go wrong. Haunting me, with the nagging reminder of assertions I blindly set aside, in full acceptance of what others were doing, that I gave away, in the wilderness of believing that “they” knew what they were doing, that in spite of the giving away of my dignity in exchange for bringing in new life, I believed that I was in good hands, I couldn’t have any say in what happened with my care because it was in the lap of the medical professionals now.

I’ve learned much since. 

There are the inevitable regrets, but why regret? It’s done, the choices made then, were made in the spirit of it being “right” at the time.

Would I do things differently now? Yes.

Of course, there are elements of control over my body and the say I had in the proceedings, that were given away unquestioningly, it’s naivety, and that is all.