#it is so fucking wild perceiving myself in any way because the me in my head is clearly so different

[just-rogi]

getting referred to as skinny by a stranger gave me whiplash like I literally cannot perceive myself at all

[tidesreach]

Watching 2x01 and genuinely driving myself crazy with the realization that Buck actually falls for Eddie's personality. He's frustrated by everything else but the minute he sees Eddie being Eddie he starts paying attention. Eddie's intro is everyone else calling him handsome except for Buck. By the end of the episode Buck is cheering for Eddie the hardest and it all came because he likes EDDIE'S PERSONALITY. This following the pattern of him liking Abby before he even met her because he liked her personality?? TO BE SEEN AND FOUND AS A THEME AGAIN!

oh man stoppppp. you are so correct, anon. HE DOES. 2x01 actually makes me crazy. there is so much going on there. buck's immediate feelings about eddie are such a tangled mess. like, there's attraction there, which buck certainly does not recognise is attraction. (the fact that he is the only one who doesn't comment on how attractive eddie is makes me insane. it would have been less revealing if he did actually lmao.) so even though that physical attraction is there, it doesn't even register for buck. and then there's everything else, the feelings deeply rooted in his trauma. that this guy is going to replace him, be better than him, be more worthy than him, that everyone will love him more than buck. thus, the macho posturing and desperate attempts to prove his worth. like, almost immediately he sees eddie as ENEMY because of the perceived threat on his own worth. but then, yeah. eddie is eddie. he's good, he's compassionate, he's competent, he's understanding and non-judgemental. and that's the thing really. THAT’S what pulls buck in.

because EDDIE IS EDDIE. eddie, who sees past buck's knee-jerk reaction of hostility and distrust. like, by all rights eddie could bite back at buck and his deranged behaviour. he could write him off as a dickhead with a big ego and not bother with him, because yeah. buck is being a bit of a dick (affectionate). but he DOESN'T DO THAT because he, well. sees buck. he sees the personality beneath the posturing. he sees that there's more there. that there's some insecurity there. like, buck is constantly trying to provoke a reaction but instead of rising to it with the same hostile energy, eddie's like okay man. what's your problem? then actually listens to what buck's problem is and tries to reason with it. and there's a distinct shift after that. like, even before they pull the grenade out of that guy. there's a moment where eddie's explaining the intricacies of a grenade and its components, and that hostility and exasperation is gone from buck's expression. instead, he looks well. a little impressed. and then, the clincher i think is after, when eddie tells buck that he's badass under pressure. like, GOD. the way buck says "me?" like he’s genuinely asking "wait really? me?" and yeah. THAT’S IT. that's where he falls for eddie's personality, because he's been nothing but hostile towards him and eddie's just like. man, you're great. you can have my back any day. INSANE ACTUALLY.

in hindsight, it really sets up their entire relationship. the way buck just wants to be seen (eddie seeing beyond buck's hostility). and the way eddie just wants someone to be there, to have his back (buck getting into an ambulance with him where there is a live fucking grenade). WILD.

[cinefairy]

colourfulness.

ADD COLOUR. ADD A RHYTHM. ADD A BEAT.

colour is not something that always has to relate to things we can see with our physical eye or a literal colour e.g red.

ADD COLOUR • realisation of the beauty in ordinary life, small moments, the wistful nature of life.

i personally like to perceive colour as in-tune with life. colour is everywhere i go, it’s there when i wake up and i open the window for the breeze to enter and take me by it’s hands. it awakens me when i feel glum, colour is when there when i laugh so hard, when i eat my favourite foods, when i enjoy my favourite films. its seeps through the cracks of joy that i experience and comes to witness it.

realising the beauty of the mind & life is colour

to me colour is what makes my world light up, it is something i will never let go of.

ADD A RHYTHM • implement pockets of love, do something for the sake of doing it. change the pattern.

"Look at you. You're young. And you're scared. Why are you so scared? Stop being paralyzed. Stop swallowing your words. Stop caring what other people think. Wear what you want. Say what you want. Listen to the music you want to listen to. Play it loud as fuck and dance to it. Go out for a drive at midnight and forget that you have school the next day. Stop waiting for Friday. Live now. Do it now. Take risks. Tell secrets. This life is yours. When are you going to realise that you can do whatever you want?" — Louise Flory

adding a beat is vital. there comes a point in life where there is a empty hole, we sometimes grieve over that empty hole as it wasn’t always a hole- at one point in our lives it was filled with something great. and when we lose that certain great thing it’s hard to get back up again & in that moment you have to realise that you can implement pockets of love. you can do it any area of your life, my personal way is by making a warm bowl of porridge with strawberries, honey & dried fruit to fill me up because it’s love. learning to take a break and to prevent myself from feeling drained out constantly is love. telling myself that everything will eventually be okay is love.

we can always change the pattern in our lives. WE ARE NOT STUCK!! YOU ARE NOT STUCK!! we do not have to be the person we are if we dont want to be, if we feel stagnant we can become fluid. if i want to get up one day and change my style, my mind, my hobbies. I CAN! i can. i absolutely can.

ADD A BEAT • implement pockets of love, do something for the sake of doing it. change the pattern.

“I did not give to anyone the responsibility for my life. It is mine. I made it. And can do what I want to with it. Live it. Give it back, someday, without bitterness, to the wild and weedy dunes.” — Mary Oliver

something i had to re-discover was life and no not the timetable planner life with everything sorted but just life. in itself. life is rigid, it has its sharp edges. but it also has it’s softness and vulnerability. it welcomes me with open arms and it will not let me go.

life shall continue. i cant stop it, it’ll only continue. now i can either let life pass me by and watch by the sidelines or jump in and take hold of what i want my future to look like.

I choose the latter.

and i give myself everything— every tiny little thing i could possibly want i give myself the feeling of that without any residue of guilt, embarrassment or unworthiness.

I ask myself “what would i like to be?” and answer it in FEELING. I accept the joy, the blissfulness, the warm essence of my imagination and i live in it. I LIVE IN IT.

summary:

adding a bit of colour (the simplicity of life) adding a beat (doing what you love) and adding rhythm (giving what we deeply want to ourselves) are like the ingredients to life. they’ll teach you, make you question, make you think. they’re all equally beautiful as individuals but together can change everything including your perspective on what matters & what doesn’t.

[gayamulet]

Art drawling

Its sort of wild how art came to a screeching halt as soon as I got a full time job. And yeah, there's a bunch of corresponding factors- a physically demanding full time job crammed into 4 days, that I'm older and so, working with less energy, sleeping a lot more (seriously wtf), and compartmentalizing time much more. Freestanding time & energy is less and has to be planned out and those times left open for the chance to 'do art' in whatever capacity I can do not equate to 100% output success rates like day job hours. I can go in with a 'fuck yeah, art night!' frame of mind and come out pretty unfulfilled (again, with the awareness that fulfillment is not the goal).

And of course recognizing that many more mundane tasks fulfill a bigger chunk of that makemakemake drive- meal prep, cleaning (ugh), plant care, yard care, mending work clothes, etc. And you know, the more annoying factor. A lot of that creative energy also gets fulfilled by mundane tasks at work- animal care, walking, cleaning (yes that includes complicated dogshit catastrophes), training, behavior data collection & entry. I come out of it of course physically tired because it is hard messy work, but it also just has me choosing/seeking artistic outlets less, and not feeling too bad about it introspectively. Its make-drive going someplace useful, through whatever framework my brain has established as useful, idk.

All this brings me to my actual point of frustration with art-making, that when I have time and there is a bit of planning involved (I have exactly one con art show and local tiny art market to work toward this summer) and I sit down and I casually think about what I'd like, for me, for these events with no pressure and, again, for me, that

I just don't want to make myself anything. That it already exists, that there are endless iterations of whatever visual landscape I'm riffing through at any given time, that it doesn't need physical manifestation, that it no longer serves me creatively, that I don't care. I can dangle a glittery new process (ink, linocut, etc) like a its-about-the-process carrot in front of me, but suddenly I don't like carrots. And it feels, less born of a dead creative drive, and more like...an extension of what I don't want from other people- junk. That I do not want to generate more junk for myself. Does this make sense? I think it sounds more heartless than I mean for it to. Like unless there is very defined intention, then I don't need it? I cannot think of a way to explain it that doesn't sound protestant as fuck. Maybe I've hit some critical mass of art intake overload thanks to the internet, maybe this is just what creativity looks like now. Tho, there's enough of a useful task involved that freelance artwork is still hopping along- much more slowly than before for all the regular reasons listed above- but otherwise its fine. I still get that pleasant little brain buzz.

I get these surges of frustration, that I've fallen off from working toward some ultra-personalized visual landscape goal like I used to, that once I do I'll be perceived as human again, or something. Like this is still some pinnacle of artistic merit, in some mythical corner of my brain. But those surges are much less frequent than they used to be, and fizzle out quickly. And idk. Art isn't going anywhere in my life, but where it comes from and how I'm making and shaping things is changing again. I guess?

*I DO, however, wanna make more cardboard masks. So bad.

**I know I kept this in a pretty strict work vs art vacuum, without acknowledging other uses of time, including other hobbies which of course also accounts for creative/emotional outlet but you know what I'm gonna stop here before you guys figure out I'm actually a robot

[clandestinegardenias]

thanks for the tag, @l-tyrell !

do you make your bed? Mostly! My dog likes to lay on it during the day, and to keep her fur off the sheets it's nice to have it...closed haha

what's your favorite number? vague preference for 711. I was 7lbs 11 oz when I was born, and the last 3 digits of my first phone number were 711, plus like, Slurpees! I was always number 7 or number 11 on sports teams.

what is your job? I'm a sociologist and a professor at a university (assistant professor, but on a tenure track. it is still WILD to me that i landed this)

if you could go back to school would you? if I had time and it was free? TOTALLY. Love school, love learning, I could have majored in a billion different things cause everything was interesting. Maybe physics? I'd love to know more physics.

can you parallel park? sort of? like, I can. and I will force myself to, just because I feel like I should be able to, but it might take me a few corrections

a job you had that would surprise people? tour guide for an historic Dutch windmill, haha. sometimes I got to help the miller sift the flour

do you think aliens are real? yes, but not necessarily in a way we can readily perceive them/a form people generally anticipate. We get too anthropocentric with it

can you drive a manual car? nope! I know the theory, but have never been taught/actively tried

what's your guilty pleasure? probably like...food that is really unsustainably produced but DELICIOUS like idk those giant strawberries grown in California that I can get in the Midwest in February. oh, or almond milk.

tattoos? no, nothing against it, just too noncommittal

favorite color? the color of the Caribbean sea

favorite type of music? i mean my top artists in the past year were Megan Thee Stallion and The Kingston Trio? I like oldies and anything that has a fucking BEAT

do you like puzzles? yes! very unseriously and recreationally, but yes (I am bad at it but I have fun)

any phobias? eternity, can NOT think about it too long or I WILL panic

favorite childhood sport? softball! i liked running the bases and standing in the outfield

do you talk to yourself? internally, ALL THE TIME. out loud when something particularly silly/surprising happens, like I'll just be standing in my yard and go "well that was weird"

what movie(s) do you adore? Some Like it Hot and Lawrence of Arabia are a consistent top 2. oh, and The Blues Brothers!

coffee or tea? tea! i love a yummy coffee latte but the caffeine is almost always too strong for me :( and also TEA IS SO GOOD I'm not mad

first thing you wanted to be growing up? astronaut!! i would still go to space if someone gave me the chance

tags @sunlaire @stormyoceans @apocalypticdemon if you'd like to!

[bromcommie]

Hello & Happy Monday!

So...for the WIP tag game...I know I'm supposed to pick the one (1! ONE!) that I find most intriguing, but this is like a whole buffet of intrigue, so maybe I can have two? 👀 1) НОЧНОЙ РАЗГОВОР (FIGURE OUT) <- ngl, the 'figure out' cracked me up. Also, late night conversations? Yes, please!

2) what's a nice nutcase like you doing in a place like astoria 1203 <- this just sounds fun...and possibly like the title could be deliberately misleading

Thank you! <3

Hello helloo, happy Monday to you too! (but also Tuesday now I guess. It's a 2-for-1!)

Thank you for the ask, and thank you for indulging me with two (2! it's gonna be so long!) <3

НОЧНОЙ РАЗГОВОР (FIGURE OUT!!!) - Ooof, this fucking guy. I'm glad my stern instructions to myself in the title there were funny, because I do indeed need to FIGURE this one OUT and it's bugging me. It's essentially another chapter that's a part of a larger work (not naming names not pointing fingers but it's. The Work I'm Having Trouble Updating) and it was written a looong while back, which is why it's now a standalone file. I love the premise but I kinda want to tear it down and rebuild it entirely, mostly because I'm still deciding on whether I like the way I wrote the backstory for it. So. It's fun! It's challenging! It's giving me a migraine! The title's from this song about a tired traveler trying to find his way in the night. It's three conversations (Steve+Nat, Nat+Bucky and Bucky+Steve - although they barely talk at all) that happen in the night after a very not lucid, injured Don't-Call-Me-Bucky who's recently remembered the Red Room and also had a pretty rattling encounter with the code words seeks Natasha out in Europe for [redacted] something as a last resort, but instead accidentally walks straight into Steve who he's been staying away from like the Devil Himself since CATWS. And then basically bleeds all over him. (I am not immune to the wound care trope! However, this is unfortunately not that.) A lot of ugly feelings and defense mechanisms are brought up, some painful memories re: the war and the Red Room are brought up, and nobody's having a good time or really knows how to process jack shit. They all communicate/perceive love&protection in wildly different ways, and while all three dynamics end on some kind of natural conclusion it's still a lot of unfinished, unspoken business and just kind of sad. Hurt no comfort that's necessary for there to be the promise of comfort in the future, if you will. Tbh, I really want to finish/reincorporate this one. But it's just so *screams into paper bag*. Anyway. Snippet:

When Steve wakes up the next morning Bucky’s gone, like he knew he would be. Like a hurricane passing through, the foreknowledge doesn’t make the aftermath any easier. And then what? his own voice from so long ago echoes in his head as he waits for the water for Natasha’s tea to boil in the sunny little kitchenette of the motel’s lobby. 16 hours later, he’s watching the blinding stripe of the sun setting over the East River before the plane maneuvers onto the landing strip at JFK. The hell else? Then we march on, ace. We go home.

2. what's a nice nutcase like you doing in a place like astoria 1203 - oh good, thank god! So this one is a bit more fun, but it's only got a few disjointed half-scenes so far. The title is actually one of the most literal ones on the list - the fic does take place in Astoria, Queens, and it does involves a certain "nutcase". Several, even. They really don't get along, and then they almost do.

(Blame my recent rewatch of the Netflix shows for this one. Man. What a golden age that was.)

Excerpt under the cut:

It was easy to clock the combat training before, sure, but up close this guy’s… Keyed up. Wild-eyed, a little, and not in the twitchy way of the three idiots piled up outside by the ruined water hydrant, not just sheer adrenaline stoked by fear and booze and coke. More dialed-in, purposefully ruthless. Hungry. Getting up with an expression like an enraged bull in spite of the beating he just took. Nutcase, Barnes thinks bleakly. Not that he’s in any position to judge — glass houses, all that, but — “What’re you,” he croaks, “some kind of psycho?” “Says the guy who just mowed down six guys without blinking." The man spits, grimacing at the blood that lands on the stark white of the rooftop like it personally offends him. If he notices the similar spray across his busted face, his clothes, his military-short hair, he doesn't seem to give a damn. "Nice going, by the way— my man got away." "And my man's bleeding out on a fucking pool table downstairs," he grits out. He doesn't have time for this. This whole night has been one giant exercise in unpredictability, and the police sirens echoing off in the distance are problem enough without him having to duke it out over and over with some local homicidal moron who might or might not be HYDRA. "You wanna tell me what that's about?" The man levels an irritated look back at him and then shrugs, dismissive. "I don't play with my food." "Your food had intel I've been hunting for two weeks." "Tough shit. Maybe if you hadn't screwed up your goddamn trig—" His lip curls of its own volition, affronted despite himself. What an appropriate time for his ego to announce it's back from the dead and in the mix. How fun. “The hell I did. I don’t miss.” "Is that right? There's some real screwed up drywall down there that says otherwise." His voice picks up an edge of something dangerous, aiming for threatening and landing on feral as he takes a step closer, and Jesus, can he stay down already? "Unless you did it on purpose to let him know I'm coming because you work for the bastard, in which case lemme tell you, you and me have a whole different problem." "I don't work for anybody," he says, probably with more intensity than strictly necessary. "He was a civillian. I don't kill civillians." The words curl acerbic on his tongue. He doesn't. He doesn't. That, of all things, makes the man laugh, a bitter little thing that sounds like it clawed its way out of his throat, and only barely. Who the fuck is this guy. "Oh Jesus Christ, not this bullshit again— how many of you assholes are running around this place, huh?" he says, gesturing a little wildly at him. "You got a fancy catsuit under that hobo getup, too?" It's Barnes' turn to look at him like he's a few marbles short, which judging by all evidence he very well might be. The guy snorts at his confusion, shaking his head. "If you consider that criminal piece of dog shit a civilian, you’re way more out of your depth than I thought, kid.”

but also:

“Self-righteous, God's sacrificial lamb type-of-shit," he mumbles around the mouthful with distaste, staring off across the bridge. "Got himself a stupid fucking title and everything, if you can believe that. Major pain in my ass.” Barnes hums, considering, before taking a cautious bite of his own sandwich. The thick pile of fatty meat and melted cheese breaks apart in his mouth easy with a sudden, almost overwhelming explosion of flavours, his empty stomach singing praises despite the ache in his bruised jaw as he chews. He never thought he’d say this, but god bless Queens. “Catholic?” Castle grunts an affirmative. “Yeah, I have some experience with that.”

[cleolinda]

Sandalwood without sandalwood: Santal 33 (Le Labo, 2011)

(lelabofragrances.com)

As I've said before, most times I go into one of these writeups trying to answer a question. What is musk, what is amber, why is licorice Like That? So my question for Santal 33 was, why is this thing one of the most popular fragrances of the twenty-first century?

I have worn it 5-6 times, and I honestly have no idea.

I'm not even trying to be salty about this; I am genuinely, neutrally perplexed. Right now, even as I'm typing this, something's occurred to me, though. See, what I was going to say was, "This is supposed to be a sandalwood fragrance. It's a failure. It smells like leather and cucumbers. I barely get any sandalwood at all." And then I remembered what happened with me and the current eau de toilette of Samsara: is Le Labo also using a synthetic sandalwood, a "big molecule" like Javanol, which I can't smell?

As you might recall, there are certain synthetic notes that some people are just anosmic to. Kind of the way cilantro just tastes like soap to some people; it's personal, and it's weird. I'm fine with cilantro, but the current Samsara EdT—one of the biggest (as in physically biggest projection that will knock you down) sandalwood fragrances ever—smelled subtle on me. Or rather, it smelled subtle on me to me. I don't have any data on what I smelled like to other people who can actually perceive Javanol etc. All I really got was what must have been a smaller amount of natural Australian sandalwood oil at the bottom. And that's what I think I'm smelling—even less of it—in the drydown of Santal 33. The rest of the time: leather. And salad.

Which blew my mind, because the first time I heard of this fragrance was an opinion piece that I can't find now, to the effect of "Everybody in New York smells like sandalwood now and I'm sick of it. Thanks, Santal 33." I can't find that link, but I sure can find these:

That Perfume You Smell Everywhere Is Santal 33 (2015)

Le Labo Santal 33: The Scent That Went From Ruggedly Cool to Utterly Basic (2019)

I Don’t Care If Le Labo Santal 33 Is the [Pumpkin Spice Latte] of Fragrance

Someone has to say it – stop wearing Santal 33 (2021)

“everyone in New York smells like Santal 33” (2023)

Le Labo co-founder Fabrice Penot: "We are lucky at Le Labo to have a few 'cults' in our collection. But Santal 33 is another level of success; it has had a stupid amount of success. As a perfumer, you always secretly hope, but you never expect, such an impact."

Why is everybody wearing it??

(I love "a stupid amount of success." He gets it.)

I mean, I live in Elbow, Alabama (please show me this magical world where everyone smells like sandalwood), and I never fucking leave the house, so I wouldn't know that "everyone" does. I think I also have to accept that I will never, through no fault of Le Labo's, understand the allure for myself if I can't even smell the sandalwood. To orient us, though, a nifty summary from the "Utterly Basic" article:

Though it's now difficult to recall a time when SoHo wasn't filled with errant whiffs of the instantly recognizable aroma, Santal has only been around since 2011. Le Labo was inspired by both its preexisting, similar-smelling candle, Santal 26, and the rugged Marlboro Man ads from the latter half of the 20th century. In a press release, the perfumery described Santal 33 utilizing the romanticism of the early American west: "An open fire… The soft drift of smoke… Where sensuality rises after the light has gone," decidedly masculine descriptors for a unisex scent that would come to represent the smell of the social and fashion elite.

Indeed, here's the Le Labo site description:

Imagine sitting in solitude on the rugged, wide plains of the American West, firelight on your face, indigo-blue night skies above. There is nothing around save for the soft, desert wind. You. Are. Free. From this defining vision was born SANTAL 33: a perfume that touches the vast and wild universality of this dream... that intoxicates... It combines a mix of cardamom and notes of iris and violet, which crackle in the formula. Added to this smoking wood alloy (Australian sandalwood, cedarwood) are some spicy, leathery, musky notes, giving this perfume its signature and addictive comforting scent.

The thing is, Santal 33 is also notorious for smelling like dill pickles on people. I actually did get a whiff of dill—the dry herb, not from a pickle jar—when I first wore it on my wrist. But when I wore Santal 33 on the back of my hand—a "method" I discussed here—suddenly a plain, watery cucumber came out. Consistently, in fact, the next four times I wore it, and it really changes the mood of the fragrance, particularly if you can't smell the sandalwood. (Like I said, I can smell a little in the base notes as time goes on, maybe a small quantity of natural oil. It leans more cedar than anything.)

Curiously, the official Le Labo description doesn't mention papyrus, which is a fairly key note in every unofficial listing I've seen (parfumo.com, for example). I wondered at first if the "cucumber" note I was getting came from the papyrus, but that’s said to smell "aromatic or woody, a little dry, earthy and spicy." Which fits the Santal 33 brief perfectly, and might be the herbal "dill" note.

And some people do claim that it's the papyrus, but a poster on r/fragrance said, "Violet and sandalwood together can produce a note that comes off as dill-like." So I google further into this, and I find that "violet leaf" is often Givaudan's aromachemical Undecavertol, which has a "green-floral, fresh, fruity" character, and that could account for the plain cucumber I was getting.

At that point I remembered that Nest's South Pacific Sandalwood has violet leaf, sandalwood, and vetiver, and I happen to have a tiny "discovery" bottle. Guess what? Cucumber. So I'm going to say that [violet leaf + sandalwood] is a strong hypothesis, with or without papyrus.

Does vetiver contribute to the Pickle Effect? It’s not listed in Santal 33, but this fragrance is, after all, named after the number of components that perfumer Frank Voelkl used, and clearly, Le Labo is not revealing all of them. Vetiver, like papyrus, usually has a smoky, earthy quality; other varieties, like an essential oil I have, and the vetiver I think must be in Kuumba Made's Egyptian Musk, smell somewhat watery to me. Like, not marine "aquatic," but "watery-vegetal." If Santal 33 happened to contain vetiver, that could also contribute to the cucumber scent, I don' t know. I feel like the cucumber and/or pickle aspect isn't intentional, unless cowboys really love a good Claussen; it was probably the smoky, earthy, musky facets of vetiver (if I'm right) that were meant to come forward.

Why is Santal 33 so popular, though? Again: I don't even dislike it, but I have no idea. It's a strange one, and if can't smell the note it's named after, there's clearly some revelation being withheld from me here. In fact, Santal 33 really makes me question my concept of "masculine" and "feminine" in fragrance, because, while we all know that Gender Is Fake Except For the Parts You Enjoy anyway, this perfume in particular renders those terms useless. In fairness to me, Fabrice Penot says, "We never thought about who was going to wear it in terms of gender at Le Labo. We are more thinking of the souls — perfumery has to be sexual to me — it has to create an attraction, an addiction."

Now, I only have half a post drafted about what "sexual" terms in fragrance ("sexy," "flirty," "carnal") are supposed to mean if you (I) would like write more inclusively about perfume, so we're going to have to table "perfumery has to be sexual," not to mention the rhetorical jump from "souls" to "sexual," for a moment. This is a whole Thing that deserves airtime of its own.

But even considering that. Santal 33 is extremely mild and neutral and cool on me. It is not the least bit what I, an allosexual, no really I'm sure, would consider "sexual." I know what Fabrice Penot is trying to say, probably, and my nose isn't getting it. Maybe I need to smell it on someone else! Maybe I need to smell the sandalwood!!! Perfume Shrine says it's meant to smell like Sam Elliott in a bottle? Yeah, no, on me, Santal 33 is this cool, tender, vegetal leather that reminds me of the deeply worn-in glove I played softball with as a teenage girl. No spice, no smoke, very little wood, no "crackling" florals.

I've actually been looking for the scent of that glove for a long time, and here it is. I truly have the (unhelpful) urge to say that this is a "feminine" leather. It is not the least bit rugged on me (one supposes that the sandalwood might have made a difference). But then you have to ask, what makes a fragrance "masculine" or "feminine" in the first place? I have two hypotheses that I'm researching, but they're basically 1) "hormonal skin chemistry, which both changes and is changeable" and 2) "antiquated bullshit," since we don't do gender essentialism in this house. Maybe Santal 33 is perfectly "rugged" in its tenderness and I just need to be thinking more Quincey Morris—or Annie Oakley, for that matter—than the Marlboro Man.

The "cool tender leather" smell did keep me coming back to Santal 33, though—I wore it five or six times, until finally the vial broke. Would I get a replacement and add it to my "gonna keep wearing" box? I'm not sure. Both Le Labo's co-founder and many, many user reviews I saw talk about the fragrance being "addictive," and maybe that's it. I felt pretty neutral about it, even disappointed, when I was wearing it... and then kept trying it again.

Is it the very strangeness that makes it popular? Is it the contrast between "soft, watery, vegetal" and the "rugged, masculine" vibe that Le Labo actually advertises? Does Santal 33 change to suit each wearer, and my particular chemistry wanted to smell like softball glove salad? Again, since I can't smell the "santal," I may not ever be able to figure out why New York smells like Le Labo. Maybe the more interesting question is, what's it going to smell like next?

Perfume discussion masterpost

[grayintogreen]

Back to my point earlier, it is really funny that people clown on the dub of the first Pokémon movie to shift the meaning to an anti-violence statement in the acceptable dog fighting anime, but no one clowns on the meaning of the second two Pokémon movies equally making allegedly erratic swings at what people perceive as the Point of Pokémon (specifically that the villain of the second is an extreme collector and the villain of the third is a child who went too deep into her imagination and is now out of touch). And I’m sure [Kenan Thompson voice] YOU KNOW WHY, but like… hold up here.

Even if people DID clown on those things and I just never saw it because I choose love, it’s an incomplete read on both of those morals just like seeing movie one as anything but an anti-hate and anti-racism message in the dub of movie one is dumb. Good old Lawrence III isn’t a piece of shit because he collects Pokémon like any trainer who follows the old gotta catch ‘em all mantra does- he’s putting them in cages for display. In a fucking more brutal version he’d probably be killing, mounting, and stuffing them but that’s for grimdark fanfic. It isn’t a clap back at the tagline for Pokémon. What he’s doing is more of a clap back at adults who raid spaces for children and make them unsafe. He’s a reckless brony who is willing to cause global weather collapse for his pony waifu. It’s simultaneously a statement about rich people destroying the planet for personal gain (a message the dub definitely heightened by intensifying the message that a single person can tip the scales of balance and affect radical change, which is TRUE and fuck you if you hate it for being cheesy that shit turned so many millennial kids into advocates for recognition of climate change, myself included) and a more softer shin-kick to adults who ruin spaces meant for children with their greed and intensity. It reminds me of people who buy up Pokémon cards or Star Wars action figures for display or collector value and take the fun out of it for kids who just want to play. I imagine many kids have felt this at the time, so seeing an adult villainized for selfishness when kids are often repeatedly told to share or risk punishment that isn’t levied at adults is a good message. But without thinking about it critically, the message gets lost as LOL KIDS COLLECTING POKÉMON YELL AT OLD MAN COLLECTING POKÉMON. Which is dumb.

Bringing us to Molly Hale who could, on surface level, represent the need for children to live outside of their own imagination and seek value in reality, which… honestly, I don’t think that one really sunk in as a moral at all, though it is interesting that the third movie WAS the last wide release Pokemon film in the US. All the others were limited releases or eventually relegated to direct to DVD. So it feels like the message of “stop imagining adventures and go have them” actually worked, which, again, is a pretty cold read when the actual source of Molly’s retreating from the world was GRIEF. It isn’t about “lol little girl with a wild imagination can’t accept reality” it’s LITTLE GIRL SUFFERING A PHENOMENAL AMOUNT OF GRIEF AND LONELINESS RETREATED INTO THE ONLY SOURCE OF COMFORT SHE HAD. The end is LITERALLY her accepting that the only way to save everyone is to accept that her father is gone and that she has to return to reality and move on. And yeah, her dad comes back at the end, but she doesn’t know that! The moral is about grief and how you can’t shut yourself away from it. I’ve never seen any wank about “lol the message is put down the game and go outside” but also I’ve never seen anyone examine it as a beautiful example of childhood grief and how to heal from it.

Tl;Dr: goddamn those dubs had good messages that still hold true today.

[essence-inked]

Rant incoming, because sometimes things just pile up until you need to let all the feelings out, and this seems like a good place to do it.

As a neurodivergent and partially blind person, it’s so wild to me that people - including complete strangers - will tell me how inspirational I am when they find out even a little about what I’m doing with my life. Because the thing is, it’s usually those exact people who treat me like they don’t expect me to be competent, or ask invasive questions as if I’m something to be gawked at, or partake in the subtle exclusion that, even though I eventually found more friends than I knew what to do with, I still experience on a daily basis. They’ll say I’m impressive for having overcome my burdens, and then they’ll go right on treating me in the exact ways that mean I have to fight tooth and nail to get a shred of respect as just a fellow person. And the real kicker is, sure, being overstimulated or not being able to see the board in a classroom is tricky, but ultimately, those are solvable problems. It’s the buildup of all the small moments of alienation, all the assumptions about my competence, all the times I’m treated like I’m somehow less than the people around me that make being different a burden that will forever leave me unsure of myself. And yes, this absolutely includes people mistaking pity for kindness (being treated like a child is not kindness, what is kind is having the self-awareness to recognize your own biases and treating people without prejudice). And it is so very painfully ironic that, in so very many cases, it’s those people who treat me this way who also have the audacity to tell me how inspirational it is to see someone like me being so accomplished.

The worst bit of it all is that if I don’t smile and nod my way through it, any issue I take is perceived as just not understanding the supposed kindness I'm being shown. Confronting people about this specific thing is nearly impossible to succeed at, because any problem I have with their behavior is already discredited by the fact they think they know better.

So, to all the people who will never read this, you think you’re being gentle and kind to someone surely as fragile as me, but it’s your emotions that are being coddled, and your delicate sensitivities I am careful not to offend. If you really thought I was your equal, you wouldn’t assume your absurd infantilization of me would fly right over my head, and I am only an inspiration to you because it is exactly your sort of prejudice I’ve had to spend my life fighting against. You are the reason why I am burdened, and with all sincerity, I would just like to say this:

Go fuck yourself.

[novaliae]

sappy appreciation post for @bunfloras 'cause it's his birthday and they are very cool <3

hi bun beloved! happy birthday you are so cool

sappy time now <3 under the cut 'cause i have a feeling this could get long

cool. so! as you know i found you through iwhia in some of the first chapters (mid april 2021? i think? wild to think that's almost two years ago now). my friends had got me into dsmp a bit before and i was reading emduo. that school year was a Time—we were hybrid for most of the year and it meant that i didn't have lunch with any of my friends. so during those periods i ended up at a shitty little desk in my school cafeteria, angling my phone this way and that to try to pick up an extra bar of cell data, and browsing ao3.

i was obsessed with iwhia from the beginning. i gushed about it to a friend. i still smile when i see your name in my ao3 subscription box because it reminds me of the little thrill i would get checking my email to see you'd updated during lunch one day. i would read a chapter and the bell would ring and i'd have to traipse up three flights of stairs with my heavy backpack and i wouldn't even notice because i was so consumed with brainrot over the story you'd created. i've read iwhia more times than i can count, and it will always be very special to me. i remember screaming in my friend's dms when i found out it was ending, followed by more screaming when i realized you were starting bones. i didn't know you at all, but i already looked up to you. i hadn't written anything in years when i clicked on the first chapter of iwhia. i started working on fics again, and it was partially because of how inspired i was by your works.

and then i joined burrow in something like august of that year!! i was so nervous—proximity to cool writing person!! intimidating!! but you were so friendly and welcoming and i started to come out of my shell and it was amazing! i went from losing my shit the first time you Perceived my existence to rambling in the bones channel to you after every chapter, making memes about the iwhia bot and infodumping about boats. i was super insecure and anxious at that point in my life and you treated me very kindly and i appreciate it to this day.

i am very grateful for you, and for the community you built around burrow, and for the incredible people i've been able to meet through you. it has been so fucking nice as a young queer aspec person to be surrounded by other aspec people, to see qprs normalized, and to just get to nerd out over the block guys with people who are just as insane about them as i am. the LL era has so many of my fondest memories; i'm close with so many wonderful friends because we worked together on the iwhia project. and you have been so fucking patient and supportive through it all too—dealing with my random bullshit in your dms, the constant angsting of warrior ocs, and encouraging me when things go well :D

you are genuinely such a bright light, bun. you've brought joy to so many people's lives through your incredible writing and the community brought together by it. you've inspired writers to create beautiful things because they want to mold themselves in your image. you're always looking out for your friends. the ideas you come up with are so fucking creative and brilliant it makes me bounce up and down with glee. you have such a gift for words that i don't know how to express the power of. you people have been so awful to you and you've remained resilient despite it all. you got back up. you kept writing. you're still here. i consider myself ridiculously lucky to know you—the nova of two years ago would never believe that you even know i exist—and you deserve all the good things in life and more.

i hope you have a wonderful birthday bun <3 we're all here for you and we always will be.

[daemiurges]

    ROLL UP LIKE A HOT WHEEL, I FUCK A BITCH UP WITH A HIGH HEEL

    ALL LOVE FOR MY SAVIOR, BUT YOU DON’T EVER WANNA MEET A GAY GANGSTA

    IND. SEL. FANDOM OC BLOG WRITTEN BY HEBBY 🔞

ABOUT AND RULES UNDER THE CUT

ABOUT

    It’s the 2020s, babes, let’s embrace our cringiest deviantart OCs. He’s a Divine that fell from grace–kind of a huge troublemaker who kept wanting to make the Mortal Realm interesting. He maaaaaay be the one who flirted the idea of Power from the Emeralds to the ancient tribes so they’d all start fighting each other. Turns out the other Divines weren’t wild about that, and had Neerco banished to the Mortal Realm.

    He had his rank and devotion stripped from him, and his temples were defaced–which means the less worship he was getting, the less influence he had. And to top it all off, his true angelic form (a horrifying 50ft spider) was contained inside of a small mobian body. When first waking properly on Earth, he had no memories of who he was, and ended up making friends with a Dandelion and a Nightingale. However, as time passed, his memories returned and what he perceived as betrayal fueled his madness.

    Abilities wise, Neerco was most heavily inspired by Q from Star Trek. He’s ridiculously OP, and we love him for that. Queen shit. Thing is, though, most of his magic and abilities in general don’t let him go TOO CRAZY. He can use his powers to give other creatures mutated forms and grotesque powers, but he can’t really use it on himself. So he likes to affect the world around him, but he can be resisted if a person’s convictions are pure enough. Which he hates. Hates that! Gross! Imagine being pure of heart. Couldn’t be him.

    Neerco’s current place of residence is an old, abandoned Temple that used to be in worship of him, but was abandoned and discarded by mortals and divines alike. He’s been working his influence as much as he can to bring it back, and he’s got some followers that embrace chaos just as much as him. That voice whispering in your ear to do your nails and claw some motherfucker’s face off? That’s probably him.

voice claim: Todrick Hall

RULES

Hi, I’m Hebby! I’m in my 30s, my pronouns are they/them. I like to think of myself as pretty friendly and patient, but I’ve seen a lot of BS in my years RPing on this webbed site, so here’s some rules!

1. This blog is 21+ ONLY because I don’t want to write with immature people or minors.

2. LEAVE ME OUT OF FANDOM DRAMA. LEAVE ME OUT OF POLITICAL DRAMA. LEAVE ME OUT OF DRAMA! (“It’s not Drama, it’s–” LEAVE ME OUT OF IT, THIS IS AN RP BLOG!!!)

3. FANDOM COPS STAY TF AWAY! WE DON'T MORALIZE OVER FICTION HERE!

4. 90% of the art used on this blog was drawn by me, the rest was giftart. Please don’t use my icons or my art without explicit, current permission from me.

actual RP stuff:

5. Neerco may be OP but I will NEVER godmode or use that OPness against your characters without explicit permission. I usually have him use it to fuck with NPCs.

6. Do NOT godmode my character or metagame information yours shouldn’t know. That’s rude.

7. IC =/= OOC, I don’t use my characters as mouthpieces. If I have a problem with you or an issue I need to bring you, I will bring it to you in private.

8. PLEASE don’t reblog my drabbles!! Or my headcanon posts. This is a roleplay blog, not a fandom blog. If it doesn’t say ‘okay to reblog’ then don’t reblog it!!!

9. OPEN TO SHIPPING! Characters MUST be over 18 for personal comfort reasons. Toxic yaoi is the only way Neerco here flies!

10. I am an impulse roleplayer, that means I reply or I don’t sometimes. Teehee. I will also unfollow for any reason, and I will not tell you why. For my own sanity’s sake.

11. Potentially triggering themes: torture, possession, abuse, controlling, behaviour, jealousy, sexual scenarios etc.

12. OH BTW I LOVE BEING MULTI-FANDOM FRIENDLY!!! that’s my bread and butter!

[slow-drowned-angels]

Still pissed at my therapist who said “but you have friends!” when I mentioned I suspected ASD. When she followed up with “yeah, people with autism usually don’t have and/or want friends” (paraphrased), I replied, incredulously, “I don’t think that’s true!” Then she went on about how autistic people she worked with tended to be more interested in special interests than people and therefore I couldn’t be autistic. I honestly wasn’t sure how to respond at that point, but over the last month I keep coming back to this conversation and being super confused.

Since then, she’s been a bit better though (including asking around regarding the cost and benefits for getting an official diagnosis, plus possible alternatives).

More discussion below. TL;DR: That’s a wild thing to generalize, even though it’s true for some autistics. Especially because she barely knows me (we’ve only had a few sessions) and didn’t ask any follow-up.

Sounds sus. Since…. I am on the autism social media site TM (and see all the posts from autistic people who have friends, who tried really hard to have friends, etc) and also I have an irl friend who is diagnosed ASD and has WAY more social interest than I do. And like… why would masking exist as a concept if autistic people didn’t care about fitting in with (and gaining social acceptance of) allistic people? Like yeah autistic people have social difficulties and that often manifests in having difficulties making and keeping friends, but wow. I imagine we’re sometimes good enough at masking to succeed in friendships?? And that there exist enough people who are either nice or neurodiverse themselves that we can be friends with without having to mask?? It kinda goes back to the whole problem with defining autism solely by traumatized autistic people.

I’ve been very lucky to have people around me who have actively tried to be friends with me. (I understand that this is a privilege I’m afforded in part because I’m “allistic passing” enough. I understand that because I saw the effects of being a very visibly autistic kid at my schools. It was Bad.) The kids who befriended me were often kids who are kinda Weird themselves — 3rd grade kids who wrote pages and pages of original fiction in their free time (and in cursive), middle schoolers who will tell me endlessly about their latest obsessions, kids who pretended to be cats, kids who constantly read novels, etc. I honestly just kind of fell into friendships and made a pretty good sidekick (because I was generally down for whatever they were interested in and otherwise kept to myself). It worked out that the other person was usually a strong personality — except for when I was very young, I’ve been unable to talk at length about my own interests (either because I tend to tell stories out of order and get flustered easily or because I get bad anxiety that the other person isn’t interested in it). I’m slowly getting better at it, but Is Rough unless someone is asking me a series of questions to lead the conversation or I get to write it out.

I can make friends in classes because I know how to talk About School (and can contribute if other topics I’m interested in are brought up by the other person, like politics or media or queer shit, etc) and so I made friends with nerds who were very academically-focused and made friends with classmates. Are they considered friends if the friendship is solely centered around school? Idk! They’re people I talk to and generally like! So friend!

I also know that I weirded a lot of people out, especially in middle school and high school. Either because I was perceived as unfriendly or too intense. Tbh, fair. I was often unfriendly and intense. Part of it was deliberate because it meant people wouldn’t fuck with me. Honestly I learned a lot of the more complex social stuff from one of my current best friends and a lot of my capability of dealing with complex emotional situations is solely through directly quoting them.

Also this lady barely knows me, I don’t know why she’s making blanket assumptions just because I’m good enough at masking to know how to get a good grade in therapy (and tend to automatically mask with new people). If she asked me more questions about it, I would have been able to explain myself, but she began by dismissing it entirely (which I wasn’t at all expecting and didn’t really know how to… argue my case without making it seem like I was claiming that I knew more about autism than she does [even though I privately posit that I do; she didn’t know about rejection sensitivity dysphoria until I mentioned it as something I related to smh, to be fair this isn’t her specialty… but also she’s working/worked with autistic people??]). (Also, note how I write when it’s stream-of-consciousness and I get to edit and write stuff out of order and add stuff later on, imagine if I were trying to talk about this in real time,, dear god.)

Amusingly I think my temporary group therapy class therapist probably believes me more when I mentioned asd because she’s seen me interact with other people and also I’m very obviously constantly stimming.

(Thanks for reading my [social] life story.)

[tache-noire]

unlocked an ancient Egg Memory while making breakfast.

i remember being around 9-10, a white suburban american child, who had very rarely seen men with long hair. Long hair was for girls, obviously. This is around the time Naruto started airing and i got really obsessed with Japanese media, centered around anime. Anyway, there's a lot of long haired men in anime and video games. and I remember being awestruck and enchanted by this. In general, I really fell in love with androgynous bishounen.

Fast-forward to present day, not really my type anymore. It's okay, but I don't go wild over them like I did when i was a child or teenager. notably, BEFORE COMING OUT.

I think after coming out as trans is when my tastes started to change and become more sturdily masculine. And I think that's because my needs changed.

When I was a girl, or a little baby tboy, I needed the reminder than men could be androgynous or even very feminine, because I was very feminine.

And then I didn't need that anymore, because I was more certain that I was male, and I viewed myself differently. And then of course I started testosterone, and that changed me too. So now I like fat and/or muscular men with body hair.

And now I'm wondering why that is, exactly. There's 2 possibilities, kind of a chicken and an egg situation.

Either it's narcissism, and I always want to fuck people who look the way i perceive myself (i know damn well I don't look like any of these men, but it's about the way i perceive myself and my ideal look)

Or it's the opposite, and my self-image is tied to what I'm attracted to.

weird shit

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

letter to mother in law

I'm writing this shit

in epic poetry

written in my own

fucking writing voice

calligraphy

and it would be

just your luck

if I got famous

just because

you bitches

slay me

like the knights

used to slay dragons

and you fucking know

those dragons were way

more awesome

than any

of those fucking knights

maybe not for humans

or civilizations

but just to take a moment

in collected and concentrated

awe

and imagine

those mythical creatures

in our lives

around our hearts

isn't that where you really

and secretly

and truly

dream?

Oh that's just me

talking about the things

that spin and dance around

in my brain

while all you can do

is listen to the garbage complaints

of the son you obviously

didn't raise to think for himself

just obey

and avoid the consequences

I don't play that way

always had to as a kid

I'll say whatever you need to

slip into whatever role

you think you're

manipulating me

into

see where you take this

wonder where it will go

then stop

change my mind

and do what I please.

It's my life.

I get to.

I am raising three young adhd children.

I say that because it matters.

It's a condition diagnosed by people who

spend years

learning about emotions

document the data

that has been collected

then studied by researchers

over years

with a motivation to

understand the behavior patterns

of humans who seem

to have an issue of extra energy

and a different way of

perceiving the world

and how you can make their lives

and your own life

raising them

more harmonious and enjoyable

for all of you

just by educating yourself a bit more

about how mental health works

it's like you think mental health

is a thing

and not an intentional

maintinannce

of not raging out

when everything and

everyone you care about

seems to see

is how you're failing to be

the kind of human

they want you to be

because you came here to be you

and they want a different version of you

but you're you and

you're me

and all our relationships

are mirrors where we

recognize parts of each other

and have to either

integrate it or

absorb it

or take it into your heart

without any kind of filter

because they are the ones

who teach you how to

write love on your heart

and some of them

choose to brand you with it

and tell you not to

scream when it burns

because that means you're

not tough

and only the strong

survive

some of them buy

brushes and ink

and write it in

permanent color

and the older hearts

get the love

lovingly tattooed on their heart

if they want to

and it's sharp

and it also burns

but not like the brand

and some hearts

carve the names

who branded them

off of themselves

with lightsabers

or talons

and find a way to

make the scar tissue

beautiful mess

a mural of

a journey tapestry

with a tragic beginning

but those were hard lessons

all of us end up learning

along the way

they just got it faster

I guess

because life is nature

and nature is here to

grow stuff

and see what kind of

wild things survive

so we survived

with the names

we love

on our hearts.

To me you are the woman

who taught Ben that

Meet Joe Black

is the right way

to think about love.

I know that he will

watch The Mask Of Zorro

by my side

with Theo

who was a cowboy

for Halloween

and Ben was a cowboy too.

You have a picture of

Fiona wearing

a pink cowboy hat

in your bathroom

and a pegasus on the shelf in there

with so much stuff about horses

I always felt a little at home.

It's okay that I changed your feelings

about me when I

lashed out

with the fourth draft

of hate poetry

raging at your husband

because he's critical as fuck

as a pattern of behavior

and it's annoying

I've mentioned this

politely in prose

hate poetry

is the second warning

I'm just making up

arbitrary rules here

but follow them

or else you get

my creative hobby

of making my

grievences

into poetry

and you can literally

sue me

because I'll never stop

advocating

for myself

in a way

that pleases me.

But only if you ignore my direct communication.

Or try to abuse me with your mean judgements and words.

Also, I respect reasonable boundaries.

I also like to approach conflict and not avoid it.

I also give you the option of having me not come to Ben's stuff at your house. I won't take it personal and I am completely fine staying home alone. I don't need to be a reason of conflict or something that keeps the family separated.

I know what it's like. I am separated from my two of my kids for some holidays. It is what it is.

You don't have to like me. I don't have to be part of things. I just don't want Theo to miss out.

[neverluckygoldfish]

23 -

Lately: been sick as a dog. I hate the flu.

With that being said, I also recently blew up my entire life….in a good way ;)

I have dreamed of settling down in the PNW my entire life. And no, not because I read twilight. My soul has felt at home in the moody gray, the greenery, the culture. I had plans to do so in the next two years. But life happens (as it does) and now I’m moving in 4 weeks!! Holy shit. It feels surreal.

Do I feel like this is a totally bonkers idea? Maybe. Probably. But I don’t care because everything in me is screaming “hell yes” towards this opportunity.

It’s a big change but I feel grateful because I don’t have an urge to drink or use (wild). It’s stress, but the good kind lol.

They say don’t make any major life changes your first year in recovery….but I’ve never been good at listening anyway.

I turn 30 next year. I’m new in recovery, a newlywed, no house or real assets, barely a retirement savings, no kids (except my dog is my child and you can’t convince me otherwise), a little money in the bank, unemployed (making a career change nonetheless), and jumping into this wild change, headfirst. This is not how I pictured 30 haha.

But something I’ve come to admire about myself is my resilience. If I have ever been unhappy with my situation or desired something - I have set my sights on it and fixed/gotten it. Maybe I did it the hard way and maybe I’m (often) too stubborn to listen to advice, but I did it. No looking back. A pro of being selfish. I have never been afraid to take a bold risk, to dare greatly.

Age is just a number baby! Unless it’s less than 18.

I’ve struggled to connect with my greater She lately - once again, I’m trying to control every aspect of my life. To race against some perceived idea that I’m running out of time. That I have wasted all this time with my issues. That I’m behind.

Maybe that’s why I’m sick? If signs are real, I’ll take this as one that I need to SLOW tf down and surrender.

A friend recently told me “it sounds like you are building recovery around your life when you should be building your life around recovery”. It got me thinking. It made me pause….she’s so right. I think it’s an easy trap to fall into. Once things are good, I just race to the next thing. My foundation is fragile right now. What I do, my attitude - it determines my perspective. It sets a precedent moving forward.

I want to let go of the old me: insecure, approval seeking, people pleasing, melancholy, secretive, controlling, perfectionist. I welcome the new me who sees challenges as an adventure, who is kind not only to others but most importantly, to herself. Who lives a fulfilling life and finds joy in the stillness of every day. Who isn’t afraid to chase her dreams. Who trusts in her own capabilities. Who says fuck the haters (lol, but literally).

I am the woman in the arena. Forever.

I needed that reminder.

So yeah, big move but I am so ready. It feels like a fresh start. Also the little kid in me is like “omg eeeeee!!!!!! Check, life dream accomplished”. Energy is on overload lol.

I’m in a good headspace and at a point in my life where I’m comfortable with who I am. I’m not chasing what’s not meant for me. I’m releasing my shame. I’m learning to forgive myself. I’m staying present. I am becoming proud of the person I was / the person I am.

It’s never too late to start over. Everything can be fun, it’s all dependent on perspective. I welcome the next few months and all the adventures ahead!!!

I have faith in my intuition - my greater She. She has led me here.

Each day, a little better and brighter.

[thinkingwithtala]

How to love the world

It starts with forgiveness it starts with love it starts with gratitude. For all below. For all above.

If you’re reading this, it’s because you’ve found time and space to take in these words. And I, as I type this, I have found time and space to write them. So please, take a moment of gratitude with me. Take a breath in. Because now. Right now. Everything is okay.

I hope you can feel that same sense of love and gratitude for the present moment that I do right now.

The world is a scary place. It’s cruel. It’s wild. It’s absolute chaos. We do our best at any given moment. That’s all we can do. We have wounds, triggers, fears. But at the end of the day, as we slip into the astral world, we leave all of that behind, and all that we do not love and are not grateful for, await us in the dream world forcing us to find a way to love and be grateful.

The truth of the matter is this. Everything in your life, everything in my life, has led me to this moment in time. And I am doing what I love. Finding and sharing wisdom. Healing parts of myself that I perceive to be unhealed and un whole, and helping you to do the same. I hope I can help you with these words. For I am me and I am you and you are me and you are you.

The question is, where do I begin?

Let’s start with gratitude. Thanks to Dr John Demartini and his studies, I have been able to come back into myself and to explore the mysteries of the universe that only someone who has dedicated their whole life to endlessly pursuing can teach with such detail and groundbreaking evidence. I found a teacher. I found my teacher. Someone that I can absorb knowledge from so that I can continue my mission of understanding the way the universe works, and help others. I love to learn. And I’m sure you do too. We love to learn about the things that fascinate us the most. Perhaps my real study is of love. And of course it’s opposite. Fear. There is a lot to love in this world. And there is a lot to fear. So how do we harness those two extreme emotions? With gratitude. With meditation. With prayer. We fear what we do not understand.

So let me make this as quick as possible for you. We can learn from our own hard gut wrenching experiences, or we can learn from others. Learn both. My mother always told me “learn from my mistakes” “don’t trust anyone” and after rebelling for so long and trusting everyone only to get burnt, I eventually I got sick of learning from my own experiences I decided to learn from hers and the world around me. It’s amazing what we can learn when we listen. Yet we want to give the world the benefit of the doubt and we can, but do not be surprised or attached to the feeling of disappointment. It adds to our wisdom. People show us where they belong in our lives, if at all, by the way they treat us.

Wisdom is everywhere. Love is everywhere. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And when we judge someone we judge ourselves. There is nothing to seek or avoid. Everything is perfectly imperfect and imperfectly perfect. It’s science.

Stop giving a fuck about anyone else but yourself. Just for a moment. Right here. Right now. Stop. Stop partaking in the narratives in your head. Stop trying to please everyone and everything around you. Stop trying to control everyone and everything around you. Stop. Be still. Feel it out. Be angry. Be sad. Be everything that you are. But do not act on those emotions. Let the dust settle. Let yourself settle. Settle back into yourself.

You are not above or below anyone or anything.

You are you.

Beautiful you.

They are them.

Beautiful them.

Hold your head high but not above others. Stiffen your back and do not bend over backwards for anyone. Just for a moment.

Be still.

And flow.

Flow with the essence of life.

Flow with the truth that is you.

And love.

Do not infatuate.

Do not resent.

The right people will love you. And you will piss the right people off. Jesus certainly did. Martin Luther King did. John Lennon did. You will trigger those around you to face themselves and all their wounds. And teach them more about themselves. Let them project and reflect. Hold fast. Be a safe space. Be the punching bag. Let them scream, cry. Hold fast. Take the hit. You know yourself. Hold fast and true. The truth always comes out. Love always wins. We are evolving and helping others evolve.

You by being you gives others permission to be themselves. And that’s how we can break the spell. Thats how we can come back into balance. Into truth. That’s how we can find ourselves, find our people, find our purpose, find where we fit into the circle of life. If you want to be you, you have to be okay with everyone else being themselves. There is no light without the dark. And in a world full of darkness, be the light.

People are going to do what they think is best for them, you are going to do what you think is best for you. Subconscious or conscious. We are all on our own paths and when we aren’t, we will be forced back onto it. There is “good” and “bad” in everything. Everything is a blessing. Seek that blessing if you do not yet see it. There is no wrong decision. There is nothing to gain. There is nothing to lose. It’s all just you learning to love you. So be grateful for the moment. Be grateful at rock bottom if that’s where you are. Inspiration will hit you at the right time. You will know what to do and when to do it. We are all being led by divine guidance and divine timing for our divine mission. And what isn’t true will fall away. Everything falls apart to fall into place, I promise you that. So build from the ground up with truth and with love. Do not be too proud. Do not be too humble. Just be you. I know it’s hard but be vulnerable. That’s where we can come together, that’s where the social revolution is.

We can learn from everyone around us. We can learn from our own hurts and experiences. And what are we learning? We are learning who the fuck we are. And what the fuck we are all about. You want to be a cunt? Go ahead. And if you don’t, well saddle up baby because for damn sure someone else is going to be. I don’t know who you are. Or what you’re all about. But it is a war out there. You get to decide which part you’re going to play. But know this. You’re just as strong as the bully, and they are just as weak as their prey. The meek shall inherit the earth. And as my father always said, let them throw the first punch.

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return”

We find true love by being ourselves and letting others be themselves. And loving them and yourself all the way. All roads lead to Rome. And everything leads back to love. Hold fast. Hold true. And be ready.