#i wish i could write this thoroughly and articulately but it's just late night thoughts

[constellationmelody]

I'm so disappointed with the direction that the Watcher decided to go. While I understand that they have to do what they need to do to keep doing the content they want to create and be a legitimate TV production, unfortunately, people like myself are in situations where we cannot financially support their goals. It's unfair to burden viewers who already contribute through other means like merch and live shows. etc. I heard they reconsidered their plan, after the pushback they received, about moving all their YouTube videos to their streaming platform, which I'm glad about. They went 'quiet' after that. Not sure why they thought that their viewers would be onboard with that. The cost of living is already squeezing everyone tightly, especially now that the streaming market is oversaturated. However, at least those streaming services offer a diverse range of content with millions of hours. After learning about how Steven has a Tesla and lives fairly well off, and the excessive spending on their sets and other things, I can't help but wonder if this all stems from poor money management. Out of the 25+ people that they have hired, ain't one of them an accountant? I ain't about to give money to a (CEO) guy who travel around to eat expensive food that I can't afford; That's not entertaining. Having an accountant could have helped them budget better, prioritize more popular shows to increase profits, and make other adjustments without constantly asking their audience for more money. It just seems irresponsible. I had a great time watching some of their videos... I have to admit, I didn't like Ghost Files as much as I liked Buzzfeed unsolved. Everyone said it better than me on my thoughts on it. Overproduced, barely any banter, and tbh, kinda boring. Someone put it perfectly by saying they liked the content creators for who they are; their personalities and chemistry were what mattered, not the elaborate setup. Back in their Buzzfeed days, We cared little that their set up were in some basement or shed with just a table, screen door, and a mannequin in the background and occasionally the talking text of yellow and blue screen roll. They could do this with a iphone camera and and we'd still enjoy it just as much. Like everyone else who watched Shane and Ryan's show, I too, was inspired by them. I create my own OCs based on them but I guess as they depart from youtube, I depart from them as well. Thanks for the laughs and entertainment guys!

[xxrainshadowsxx]

New Elite Chapter 5

I know this is late, but this chapter was a bitch to write. But, I've managed something I'm happy with, so I hope the wait will have been worth it.

As the day of your next scheduled meeting with Mr. Onceler loomed closer, your mind grew ever more scrambled. You’d carefully laid out the pros and cons to both accepting and declining his offer, yet this didn’t bring you the clarity you seeked. No, if anything, it only made you more confused.

On one hand, this would save you. He could keep you from poverty. There were no pretenses with him, no guessing as to what he wanted. He was honest. In the wolf's den of society, true honesty was a rare gift indeed. The truthfulness might be brutal at times, but it was still present.

Could you live with him? Most likely. As insufferable as you often found him to be, he wasn’t vile. You could have conversations with him, and you didn’t even have to worry about minding your tongue; you couldn’t do that with anyone else in the world other than Nellie. He was also young, which was a huge boon for you. Your fears of being forced to marry an old man would be alleviated. 

You could only find one real con; unfortunately, it was a severe problem. Your mother would never accept it. You could lay out all of the explanations Mr. Onceler had given you, as well as any of your own, and still she’d never be swayed. For as much as she often complained you were stubborn, she was even worse in that regard. Doing this behind her back might be so big a betrayal as to cause an estrangement.

You didn’t want that. As much as your mother could annoy you at times, as much as she attempted to dictate your life, she was still your mother. You still loved her. You recognized that she was the way she was because she didn’t know any different. You also didn’t want to leave her alone if this did lead to an estrangement. You would attempt to support her, no matter what, but would she even accept Mr. Onceler’s money? How deep did her prejudices run?

As such, your week was nothing short of agonizing. You felt as though your mind changed at least once an hour, and even sleeping brought no respite; you woke several times in the night, tormented with indecision.

Of course, you couldn’t keep this from Nellie, who was quick to notice and call you out on your new behavior patterns. At first, you attempted to keep it from her, insisting you were fine. But on the third day after Mr. Onceler’s proposition, after she threatened to tell your mother you hadn’t been sleeping, you broke down, weeping in her arms, and telling her everything.

“Nellie, I don’t know what to do,” you moan after your explanation. “He’s offering me more than I could ask for, and I never thought the decision would be mine. And now that it is, I find myself almost wishing it wasn’t. It’s too much, Nellie, what if I make the wrong choice? What if I say no and we never get another shot and we’re left on the street?” you wail.

Nellie sighs heavily. “Miss, you know the choice you want to make. We both know it. You’re just scared of actually making it, if you don’t mind me saying. You’re scared of declaring your decision out loud since you’ve never had that luxury before. But I think you might need to,” she says gently.

Once again, she’s able to articulate your thoughts much better than you can do it yourself. And yet, the fear is still there, causing your lip to tremble. Nellie reaches out and covers your hand with hers. “Talk to your mother,” she advises. “The relationship will be easier to mend if you take steps now instead of hiding this from her until she can’t stop it.” With that, Nellie takes her leave, leaving you thoroughly admonished.

If you said yes, how on earth were you ever going to tell her? And yet, how could you keep it from her? She would hardly fail to notice if gifts came for you, or if you left the house for seemingly unexplained hours to meet with him, and of course, she would be eagle-eyed to his preference for you at any event. If these steps weren’t taken and you announced an engagement without a formal courtship, that would be a scandal to all of New York. You didn’t know if it would be easier to let her know as soon as possible, in which case she would do everything in her power to end it, or wait until an eventual engagement did come, deal with the scandal, but give her less opportunity to ruin the one and only choice you’d ever been given.

Or you could simply avoid it altogether, reject him, and let your fortunes fall where they may. But even with the preference Mr. Hunte had clearly shown you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Mr. Onceler was giving you the best offer you were going to get.

Nellie clearly thought you were going to accept. That was obvious from her initial advice, and from her insinuations in the following days. Any chance the two of you were away from  your mother’s ears, she’d make some sort of mention that the two of you, together, needed to tell her sooner rather than later. The very thought of doing so made you sick to the stomach.

And before you were ready, before you could make a definitive decision, Saturday arrived, and he would be waiting for you at Central Park. You had to meet him. Whatever you ended up choosing, you felt you at least owed him an answer to his face at this point.

Fate decided to smile a little on you, at the very least. Saturday found your mother bedridden with one of her frequent headaches. While you normally felt sorry for her, today it was a blessing in disguise. It would make leaving the house so much easier. You didn’t like to think of what you were doing as sneaking about, but that wasn’t far from the truth.

You were more nervous than you’d ever been in your life, even more than prior to your debutante, as you had Nellie pin your hair into a hat. Your mind was still split in two, and no last minute certainty came to you. In the face of your choice, your future was murkier than ever.

“I suppose that’ll do, Nellie,” you sigh as she finishes, finding no more reason to stall. You couldn’t be late, you didn’t want him to think you weren’t coming at all, but you also wanted time to slow, even cease altogether. You were beginning to be a little too accustomed to being in two different frames of mind simultaneously.

“Good luck, miss,” Nellie hums. “You’ll make the right choice. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders; it shan’t let you down now.” You simply nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you head out the door, being mindful to stay quiet so as not to alert your mother. You keep your head lowered, hoping that the wide brim of the hat you’d insisted on would help give you a little bit of anonymity. If your mother was going to find out about this, it would be much better coming from you than gossiping with the other ladies of New York.

Far too quickly, you make it to the park, and your feet carry you along the path as though they have a mind of their own. And there he is, sitting on a bench, and you still aren’t sure of what you’re going to say.

He stands when he sees you approach, not exactly looking surprised, but definitely pleased. He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything you blurt out, “Why me?”

You can tell that the question catches him off guard, and you didn’t know until you saw him that you needed it answered. You hasten to explain yourself. “There are dozens of girls in New York alone with good names, and I find it impossible to believe all of these families have squandered their fortunes. I can offer you nothing but a name, and with an antagonistic mother, I must be more trouble than I’m reasonably worth. So before I make my decision, I must know. Why are you so determined to win me when you could have anyone?”

He looks utterly taken aback, the first time you’ve seen him in such a state, but he recovers quickly. “I’ve met several upper-class women over the past year,” he says slowly. “When I wasn’t growing my business, I was at some event or another, attempting to bolster my reputation. And all of the single women were exactly the same: vain, vapid, and giggly. They couldn’t string two intelligent words together if their lives depended on it. I confess, it drove me mad.”

You frown slightly at him. “It sounds as if you are an utter tyrant towards women, sir,” you say, your tone turning a bit icy. “It’s a wonder you want to be married at all.”

“I’ve already explained my reasons for needing a marriage. I’m not going to repeat myself,” he huffs. “Now, back to the point at hand. As for why I chose you, you were the first socialite I’ve met who had brains along with a pretty face. I would like to be able to come home at the end of the day and be able to have an intelligent conversation with my wife. You may delight in insulting me, but I would take insults and wit over vapidity any day.”

“I still believe you’re being too harsh,” you sniff. “I’m hardly more intelligent than my peers. I’m just worse at controlling my tongue than they are.”

His lip curls into an amused smile. “Perhaps. But I’m not guaranteed their tongues would loosen upon marriage, or if I really would be marrying someone completely useless. With you, I know exactly what I’m getting myself into. Now, I have given you my answer. What is yours?”

You can feel the word ‘no’ rise to the tip of your tongue. Now that it’s come down the moment you’ve been dreading, it suddenly seems very easy. You simply can’t face estrangement from the only family you’ve ever known to gamble your lot with who remains essentially a stranger.

“Yes.”

The word flies out of your mouth before you’re fully aware of what you’re saying. And when your mind finally does register the enormity of what you’ve just done, you almost take it back.

But you can’t. You can’t make the words come out of your mouth. And now that you’ve accepted his offer, you don’t want to take it back. And for the life of you, you cannot fathom why not.

Mr. Onceler, however, seems to either not notice or he’s choosing to ignore the chaos you’ve just caused inside yourself. The first real smile you’ve seen from him splits his face, which only further solidifies your decision, before he’s able to school his features back to neutrality. “Excellent,” he says simply, but his façade has been broken, even if just for a moment. He was genuinely happy.

Which makes you feel guilty when you know you’re about to dampen his enthusiasm. “We should probably decide quickly what we’re going to do about my mother,” you remind him. “She’s not going to like this. And we can hardly keep a formal courtship a secret; she’s bound to notice. Unless you were planning on keeping the entire courtship a secret until a possible engagement and cause a scandal, which I sincerely hope was not your plan.”

“For starters, I don’t plan on having a long courtship before getting engaged,” he says, the devilish smirk returning to his face. Insufferable as ever. “And while I don’t feel the need to have a formal announcement, I would like some of your attention at any events that might come up. As long as your mother is sufficiently distracted, I should be able to steal some of your time.”

“And how do you propose to keep her distracted?” you huff impatiently. “My mother still treats me like a child. She watches me close as a hawk.”

“Fortunately, I have a friend who’s more than willing to help,” he grins. “I’ve already learned that this friend is quite good at distracting your mother, as well as anyone else who happens to be in my way.”

You’re about to ask what on Earth he means, but the answer dawns on you before the question falls from your lips. Mrs. Ryan. Of course. Any time he wanted your attention at the last event, she had initiated a conversation with either your mother or Thomas Hunte, leaving Mr. Onceler free to steal you away. While not a foolproof plan, it was something, and Mrs. Ryan could talk for hours. As long as you weren’t overt, you might just get through your courtship without your mother suspecting a thing.

“I suppose that can work,” you acquiesce slowly. “However, if she does begin to suspect something, I would like to tell her, before she hears it through gossip. And we must say something if we do get engaged. If she hears that from someone before we go to her, it will cause an estrangement. I would like to avoid that at all costs.”

“Of course,” he agrees, though there’s still a twinkle in his eye that you’re not sure how to interpret. “I shall defer to your judgment in regards to your mother. I’m not trying to make an enemy of her, but I must say, I hold you and your opinion in much higher regard. You’ve somehow escaped the usual socialite curse, despite your upbringing. That gives me hope that your mother will eventually see sense.”

You wish you shared his optimism. You knew that when you said yes into entering this courtship, your mother would be furious when she inevitably found out. You can only hope and pray that your circumstances would prevent her from cutting you off altogether. You couldn’t bear losing her like that. Which reminded you of something…

“I should be getting home,” you murmur. “She doesn’t know I left. I don’t want to raise her suspicions so soon.”

“Allow me to escort you home?” he asks, offering his arm to you. You almost decline before remembering the deal you just made. Courtships were meant to lead to engagements. To end one could permanently damage your reputation. You didn’t want to give him any reason to end things, and thus, you had no reason to not accept his offer.

Therefore, after just a moment’s hesitation, you place your hand in the crook of his arm, allowing him to lead you out. You say very little, but the silence is comfortable rather than suffocating. Your thoughts were loud enough; you didn’t think you could handle a full conversation.

It seems like a very short time indeed before you reach the door of your home. You glance up at the windows, but your mother’s bedroom still has the curtains drawn tight. You let out a small, almost inaudible, sigh of relief.

You turn to Mr. Onceler, expecting a goodbye. “I hope I shall see you soon,” he murmurs, and you lift the back of your hand for him to kiss it.

He doesn’t. Instead, he bends and places a soft, swift kiss to your cheek. Before you can even process what on earth just happened, he puts his hat back on his head and walks down the street, leaving you beside yourself.

You lift your hand to the spot where his lips had touched, as if they had made a mark you needed to cover. You can feel your face burning crimson. A kiss on the back of the hand was one thing. A kiss on the cheek was something different entirely, and for him to be so brazen as to do it in public… oh, you could just melt from embarrassment right where you stood.

Oh, Lord, what were you going to do if someone saw that? There was no way it wouldn't get back to your mother, and such an ostentatious display would mean you would have to marry him sooner rather than later to protect any shred of your dignity, whether she liked it or not. No one else would risk another courtship, much less an engagement with you, if that went through the gossip mill.

And a small, nagging part of you wonders if that's exactly why he did it. For as much as he parroted that this was your choice, he was marking you as his. That choice, which you still weren't 100% certain of, was now permanent.

You're still standing, frozen as a statue, when Nellie opens the door a crack. “Miss! You must get inside,” she hisses. You blink, then manage to turn and slip in the house.

“Thank goodness,” Nellie breathes as she closes the door. “I've been checking every five minutes for you for the last half an hour. The mail came, and I'm not sure how much longer I could have stalled from bringing it to your mother.”

“Why didn't you?” you question as you take off your wrap. “I hardly think that delivering the mail would cause such a fuss.”

“You'll want to hear this first,” Nellie insists as she presses an envelope into your hand. Your curiosity piqued, you take the letter out and shake it open. Your eyes scan over its contents, though it takes a few read-throughs for the information to fully sink into your mind.

“Oh,” you say softly as you finally grasp the reality of the situation. The letter was an invitation for a ball for you and your mother to attend, your first major event since your debutante.

And the ball was being hosted by the Hunte's.

“What was your decision?” Nellie whispers. “Is this… going to be a problem?”

“Yes. It will,” you confirm. “I agreed to the courtship, but we both decided to forgo a formal announcement. If my mother finds out before we're fully engaged, she will try to stop it, no matter the harm it could do to my reputation. We had a plan in place to stay quiet at events, but if Thomas Hunte makes an offer to my mother, she will accept. And it would rock l all of society, trying to smoothe over the kind of scandal that would cause.”

“I told you, you should have already spoken with your mother,” Nellie chides. “How much damage could she do, realistically? You've already accepted his offer of courtship. Could she really change that when you've already given consent?”

You nod grimly. “If I stay in the courtship after she denounces it, or declares that it was made without her prior approval, I fear she would never speak to me again. I must wait until this reaches an engagement. She would not risk breaking something that big. That would ensure our destruction. And then, I'll just have to try and convince her to stay private with her displeasure.”

Nellie sighs heavily. “Well, you must do what you think is best. I just hope that this will not turn into a situation you regret. I still say you're playing with fire.”

“I know I am,” you murmur. “I realize how delicate the situation is. And I'm doing my best to manage it. But if I had done things the way she wanted, we might have been left off worse than we are now. How many other men would agree to a marriage after realizing I barely have a dowry. How many others would agree to support my mother for the rest of her life? He's giving me more than I knew to ask for, and keeping our financial worries discreet. I would've been a fool not to accept.” As you speak, you realize you're not just convincing Nellie, but yourself as well. And it is working. At this moment, you feel very assured in your decision.

Why you feel that way, however, you aren't entirely sure. By all rights, you should be feeling worse than ever. You knew you were going to be coming up against extremely challenging weeks, perhaps months; however long it took him to propose. You didn't like lying; you had never given much of an opportunity to practice.

And yet, there was some comfort given to you, this overwhelming feeling that you would come out alright on the other side. Despite your mother's best attempts to squash certain things out of you, you'd always been an advocate for women being afforded more rights than they were often given. Now that you'd met someone who was giving you even a small taste of freedom to make your own choices, you found yourself clinging to it. With Mr. Onceler, you might have a small chance of having a bit of a say in your own life. With that in mind, you turn back to Nellie.

“Nell, whatever you say, I've made my choice. I've never been allowed to do that before,” you attempt to explain. “My new courtship, as fragile as some of the conditions surrounding it are, is at least giving me choice. I must keep it. It is a blessing that I had not realized I desperately craved.”

Nellie sighs heavily again. “You know you always have my support,” she begins slowly. “So, I shall help you in whatever way I can. If this is so precious to you, I shouldn't like to see you lose it.” She chews her lip, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “It's just… do you love him?” she asks in a whisper.

It's your turn to let out a sigh of your own. “No,” you state blandly. “But I don't need love. I never imagined marrying for love. He's giving me security, which is the most important thing, and even a little bit of a voice. And though he vexes me from time to time, I believe I can live with him. It's more than I expected. I shall not be so selfish as to wish for love on top of everything.” You give Nellie a quick hug, something you'd never do if your mother were there, but you couldn't be bothered to care at present. The confidante Nellie was to you was priceless.

And whatever happened next, she would stand with you. It was a rich thing, to know you wouldn't be going into this alone. For it was indeed into the unknown that you were surely travelling.

[thenervousmedic]

I had a minecraft dream last night...

This is going to be a long post, but bear eith me, and take the time to read it.

I don't dream about minecraft very often. In fact this might be a first. I'm still in bed while writing this, as im afraid if I wait I'll lose a bunch of the memories.

It involved myself and a few members of the Dream SMP getting sucked into MC. Ironic, I know. Dream, George, Badboyhalo, Tecnoblade, Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit, and myself. We all looked like our avatars... mostly, and even had some special skills i'll get into later.

To be clear, they were as they are in real life in terms of personality.

I've not watched the dream smp yet... maybe I should start soon. Anyway, side tracked...

The world worked differently than normal MC. It was more realistic, especially the combat and movement. Anything you can do irl you can do here. The drawback was that it made everything harder and more exhausting.

I was dragged in a month before the others, where over the next four weeks, I'd figure out how the lives system works; how difficult movement was; that crafting was nearly the same as normal mc; and how to build.

Five lives. There was a little tracker on the back of your hand, five squares for five lives. Each life you lost, a square would disappear. But it wasnt that simple. Every tine you died you'd feel the affects of the world more. Eating took longer, everything cost more and more realistic amounts of effort, and most importantly... taking damage would actually hurt.

On your first life damage was less of a danger and more of a 'stat' to just be aware of. Getting attacked, shot, exploded next to, ect wasn't too bad. But the more you died the more these things started to get scary. Arrows would tear their way in and ve painful to remove. You'd bleed and have actual wounds that needed care.

By the time the smp members were spawning in, I'd already been reduced to my last life. I was never good at minecraft, though im alright irl with a bow it didnt help much.

You spawn in unconcious. I'd lost my first life that way. I spawned above water. A painless drowning. I hadn't gone back to the ocean since, it scared the fuck out of me.

The first to arrive was Techno. I went back to spawn for the good sheep spawns there. Found him asleep in the grass. He was lucky no creepers had spawned.

Nearly everyone was bigger than me, I'm pretty small, so hauling this guys limp piglin ass all the way to my little safety shack was really hard.

Then Dream and George one after another. Badboy. Tommy... and finally Wilbur.

Wilbur was... a special case. He was a ghost. Just like his ghostbur skin had been. Fully awake, really freaking out. I was near collapsing from taking everyone else to my home, wasnt really much of a comfort, but I at least managed to convince him to come with me after the sun started to dip.

When we got back Wilbur helped me make beds. Couldn't have everyone sleeping propped up against the walls... Wilbur couldn't grab anything, but he could open and close chests. He also found out he could manafest things like his guitar, and a plushie orca. Things that made him a little less anxious. It was nice to hear music again.

I didnt get to talk to him long. We finished the beds, put everyone on one, then I immediatly konked the fuck out over the crafting table.

By the time I woke up, everyone was already awake and talking. The typical suspects. Why are we here, how, what happened, is this even real. You get the picture. I guess usually social anxiety, especially in the presence of people I admire so much, would've been a big stressor but after a month alone in this world I damn near started bawling at the thought of someone else even existing.

I told them all I know. We are stuck here, we have lives, dont fucking lose them it makes the game harder. The physics are just as janky as regular minecraft, mobs are much more articulated, armour actually has weight and at this point I wasnt aware of the little buffs everyone had to a particular skill.

Dream was incredibly good at exploiting the game's wonky system and parkouring, even of he couldnt nessesarily do it irl.

Techno was suddenly extremely knowledgeable about combat and could handle most weapons effectively. He was also a piglin-type guy which made him immune to fire.

George's coding skills translated directly into redstone knowledge, letting him build ridiculous machines with enough respources.

Tommy had incredible luck with loot and generally got good enchants.

And Bad was, thanks to his skin, some form of demonic entity and would be completely ignored by most hostile mobs.

Wilbur, as you know, was a ghost who could phase through anything and summon ghostly items.

We didn't find out everyone's special trait immediatly, of course. It happened over many days of trail and error trying to collect resources, build, and have fun.

Turns out my skill was useless by myself, hence why I never found it before they arrived. Anything I gave to another person was twice as effective. Healing items helped more, food would fill them on smaller portions, armour would get a free temporary enchant depending on what they needed.

I'd never liked playing minecraft alone.

I'm losing some of the dream, I shoukd wtite some bullet points down or this post will be miles long.

Tommy accidently befriended a wolf, he named it Wilbur to mess with Wilbur. We had two Wilburs.

Bad was constantly driven up the wall by peoples language but truly was using it as a coping mechanism early on because he was afraid of being stuck here forever. We made sure to swear occasionally so he'd get the oportunity to yell at us.

Techno lost his first life when a creeper blast threw him directly into Dream's sword.

Dream never got over it.

Wilbur started making more songs and even made a few targetted at the groups adventures.

Wilbur descovered if he goes into the floor he cant tell which was is up, this terrified him, he never went underground again.

George made automatic farms and eventually even non-minecraft typical things like a morning alarm clock, a compass that pointed to the nearest village, and invented new armour that was more lightweight but still protective.

Wilbur the wolf regularly barked at and mauled giant spiders before they got anywhere near the house, much to literally everyone's relief.

Bad learned how to read and write enchanting table symbols.

I taught Dream how to repair his clothes and in return he showed me how to build traps.

Techno learned he could talk hoglin, piglin, and villager.

Bad learned he could stare at endermen and mistakingly assumed everyone could so he told everyone else its ok to do so.

Tommy lost his first life to an enderman.

Wilbur worked with george for a whole week on special gloves that would let him touch stuff.

I took an arrow dangerously close to the lungs after Tomny's first respawn trying to bring him home.

Dream realised he couldn't take off his mask and wished he could see the world normally again, nobody knew what his vision was like.

Bad descovered a joy for cooking.

Bad also tamed a cat and named it Muffin.

Muffin the cat would ride Wilbur the wolf around.

Dream lost his first life to hunger after pushing himself for too long.

Techno took a wrong step in the neather and lost his second life to a seriously long fall.

I never knew what I looked like...

Tommy lost his second life being overrun by zombies without a weapon. We made a rule to never leave the house alone after this many deaths.

Bad descovered pretty late that milk is poisonous to him and thus cakes will kill him. He lost a life to cake. He was devastated.

Tommy built a cute campfire. He and Wilbur would mess around singing at it. Wolf Wilbur thoroughly enjoyed this.

I would stay up most of the night watching everyone sleep because I worried the house could get invaded or surrounded. They found out after Phantoms started spawning and made a rule that at least one of then would stay awake at night to make me feel better.

George built Dream an obstacle course with lots of moving parts and such. He ran it every morning.

I learned how to play guitar from Wilbur at the campfire.

Torches never burnt out after they arrived. No idea why.

That's all I can remember...

It was a hard dream, I was sad and angry sometimes... but the happy moments made it worth it.

I hope I return to that dream someday.

[ofhowls]

PSA – on myself !

hi, okay, i’ve had a good night’s sleep and in my dreams and the rest of the morning, i have reflected. and, i’m gonna be honest with all of you, my habit of giving my two cents when it isn’t needed is… stupid, to say the least. i would’ve liked to think i did more good than harm ( especially when it came to my whole slave rp crusade, which i’m realising might be the only thing of value i did for this community ) but that appears to definitely not be the case. i posted an apology for some things said about a year ago though i can’t find it now with my blogs gone. i’m also assuming it was a subpar post regardless. 

so, whether you like me or not, i still feel the need to apologise – so if you feel that some of the things i’ve said has had a negative affect on you or the community, then click below. 

i won’t bring up everything i’ve ever said because honestly, i can’t remember it all. but i will mention some things that have been mentioned last night.

i. tw pedophilia // i’m not good at words. i’m very bad at them, actually. i have a whole lot of trouble articulating my thoughts and usually, most of the time, it comes out completely wrong. i won’t defend my pov ( like i did last night ) because it is a topic i haven’t thought of in ages and an opinion i shouldn’t have stuck with without proper reconsideration. i’m always quick to defend myself, you know? but in this political climate and the way “ minor attracted people ” ( saying that with the most sarcastic of quotations ) are attempting to be apart of the lgbt community… my previous opinion on the matter is absolutely whack. sure, i think help should be offered by therapists and psychologists and all of the professionals in the world. but my previous point was maybe not crucify people with paraphilias in general areas such as tumblr and twitter and whatever. because it will keep them from getting the help needed, but most importantly, prevent any children getting hurt if they don’t. 

but that was wrong. like, completely. clearly, shaming and ridiculing and reporting is the only way to deal with those who see no wrong in their doings. my attention was always shifted towards that do and that was because of a documentary i watched sometime ago. it’s obvious the former, those who think their attraction is valid and healthy, make up the majority of these people. my point of view was skewed based on a singular source and that’s messed up. i realise now that those who know their attraction is wrong will seek help without me coddling them, and my posts would only encourage those who don’t, to be more open & proud about it. i apologise for it seeming that i was accepting pedophiles and their attraction into the community, because that was most definitely not my intention. i have no excuses for this and i will educate myself more, with recent and relevant information, before i ever try and speak on the matter again. especially on a public forum. 

ii. ableism tw // i was diagnosed with autism when i was about eighteen years old. that was very late. and up until that point, i was dealing with a tons of misinformation regarding the people on the spectrum and my own shock & confusion over the diagnosis given. and though that’s not an excuse, it’s also not the reason i said what i said. if you know me, at all, you’ll know that i’m very much obsessed with being an individual and getting a rise outta people. way more back then than now. but that’s who i am. i hopped onto a trend i deemed stupid and attacked it from every angle, not quite thinking of the implication behind the words that i said. 

i realise, later, that why i choose the autistic example might be because of my own issues with it. at the time. over the past two years, i’ve grown so much regarding my identity and i finally feel comfortable, and proud, in my own skin and with my autism. there used to be a time where i hid it and made comments on how ~ i was different ~ , somehow, and i can gladly say that’s not me anymore. i’m very sorry for what i said because i realise how hurtful that must’ve been to the rest of the community. me being autistic myself is no excuse and i know what kind of effect a commentary like that would have on others. especially those who were struggling with it like myself.

iii. every tw under the sun // i’m gonna be honest with y’all, once again my edginess came into play. my need to open my big fat mouth for no other reason other than i could. that post, especially given just how ignorant a lot of the community is on issues mentioned, myself included on some, is bad. it’s a bad take that is bad. and it’s quite possibly the stupidest thing i’ve ever written/read. i know so many writers who have refused to do research and me going up there and saying “ that’s okay, you can do what you want! ” … no. i still believe there’s freedom to write whatever you want, though – but to an extent. there’s a limit that shouldn’t be crossed and that’s the limit i attempted to bend in the post i made. at the time, i think, i felt entitled to have this opinion due to the minorities i’m myself included in. but that’s also a real bad take. i did see people’s point of views then but i think i failed to apologise once more. i’m bad at that, and it’s something i’m working on. 

anyways, to the topic at hand. we need to make people take more responsibility in this community and although i’m getting a whole bunch thrown at me at once, at the moment, i’m a bit grateful for it. i’ve realised thanks to these things being brought back up, that i didn’t apologise and i didn’t take responsibility – and i should’ve. i said things on a public platform that actively reassured people, who should not have been reassured, of their place in this community. racism, homophobia, TRANSPHOBIA, and pedophilia, are among the things that have no place here. i fought so much against the slave roleplays and their opinion on how ~ it’s writing, freedom of speech, and yadada ~ was WRONG. yet, i turned around and wrote a post like that? it was a bad, and hypocritical, take indeed. and one i thoroughly apologise for. 

vi. racism tw // once upon a time, i defended a friend’s roleplay without much knowledge other than ‘ it’s my friends, i have to ! ’ i have the lowest of iq’s, if you can’t tell. anyways. i think it was called siouxfalls, or something like that, and we found out that it was the name of a native tribe. i thought, personally as a white little bitch, that it was no big deal. who cared! ( lots of people, but i really only paid attention to the anons i got… which was… stupid ) and thus, i went out of my way to defend a friend of mine. i didn’t read the plot, i barely looked at the roleplay. i involved myself in a situation i had no clue about, and took it from there. i used a large following and a huge amount of traffic on my blog, to shit on people with genuine concern. there’s no excuse for that! i kept this up for hours, and anons swarmed to my inbox to poke fun at it, too. and i thought, hey, if anons are cool with it – that must mean i’m in the right. i wasn’t. 

there came a time where the other admin of the roleplay, the one i hardly knew, leapt to their roleplay’s defence. in their, very, long post about the matter – they mentioned that, hey, we aren’t forgetting about natives! in fact! there’s gonna be a plot drop about all of those slaughtered there! and that… was yikes. i backed out of the conversation when that happened. and that also a bad decision! i should’ve stuck around, spoken to this person i actually had access to – and 1. realised my own wrongdoings for the night, and 2. used the audience i had to correct myself and draw attention to an even bigger issue. i didn’t. i let it go, hoping no one would remember. i was in a shitty position of allowing racist subtext into the community and diminishing the concern of people of color, and i sincerely apologise. i was a 15 minute of fame whore and i didn’t bother with the feelings of others. i was, in all honesty, a garbage person. and i take full responsibility for that. 

v. no tw because this is more of a general statement // i am sure there are more specific things that i’ve done and that i’ve said, but with the sheer amount of garbage that came out of my mouth, i have trouble recalling anything significant. i would gladly accept receipts and reminders from everyone and anyone. i’m not asking you to coddle me, but i really do wish you’d help me take some responsibility. memory like a goldfish and like 5k posts of bullshit just don’t add up. anyways. since my latest ‘ jayden said something fucking stupid ’ discourse was about a year ago, i feel like i have grown. tumblr, for me, was a very bad place to be in many ways. i’m not saying the community is toxic but it was to me. i like attention and i like getting asks and i like putting my two cents out there. it created a whole bunch of issues and it gave me a bigger platform than i should’ve had. with my absence, which i’m also a bit grateful for, i spent more time on other social medias and i learned more about issues i never even began reading about on here. 

i’m not saying i’m the brightest now, either, but i’m definitely smarter. i didn’t come back to the rpc, with the exception of one or two posts, because i don’t feel like i should have an audience to barely formed opinions. and i’m not apologising now because it was all brought up but because it being brought up reminded me of damage i’d caused. i’d be an idiot to think it should be swept under the rug, because it shouldn’t! if it weren’t from the backslash of the rpc, i never would’ve second-guessed my opinions and reevaluated them, and that’s extremely important. it’s important to hold people accountable and it’s important to make sure apologies are made. i’m not asking for anyone to forgive me, because let’s be real, this was long overdue. though, i hope this has made it clear that my opinions aren’t the same as they once were and i genuinely am apologetic for damage done.

i don’t know if any of this was remotely coherent, but i hope it was? the anon feature is back on, and hopefully instead of racist commentary, it can be used for things more constructive. once again, no need to hold my hand, but if you feel like i’ve missed out on anything that should be addressed – please let me know! like i’m not the same dimwit i was a year ago. that’d be too freaking sad. anyways, once again, i apologise for what i’ve said and many lessons have been learned. believe me.