#like SORRY I LIVE 3 HOURS AWAY and don't have to expose myself to covid via you

[justalittlebluetiefling]

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[anonymous-swiftie]

If you are on twitter, please retweet this:

https://twitter.com/ASwiftie00/status/1334245577933148164?s=19

Dear #Swifties,

I'm new on tumblr, and I really don't know how to use it.

I know you are the best supporters of the music industry and I'm here to ask your help.

I'm fighting with a crippling depression, that due this covid situation just got worse.

I'm at my lowest, I truly don't know if I will make it through this time.

I always dreamed to talk to Taylor, since I was a teenager. She is the only one that make me feel like I do fit in this world.

I've created this account because I know she is very active here, and I'm trying to reach her with this part of my story.

You can read everything below.

I didn't write any personal information because I don't want this to be seen by my family or somebody that can recognise me.

I don't want upset anyone.

I know that everyone hope to meet or chat with her, and so you are probably wondering why you have to share this here.

You're totally right, maybe it's a stupid idea to ask you this, but I haven't anything left in my pocket to fight this situation, and you're my only hope right now.

Thank you.

#taylor #swift

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Dear Taylor,

I keep writing and deleting this, over and over again.

I feel so dumb to write my personal story here, but this truly is my last chance to feel better and try to overcome this giant monster called depression.

I genuinly don't know if I can make it through this year. It's the worst period of my entire life and i don't even know if it's worth living this hell anymore.

I know you have millions of supporters (that probably write you every single day, and they are all better fans than I am, that's for sure) but I know that you proved, time after time, to be so down to earth and to use your time to read your fans messages.. so, in this moment, I'm just trying to share a part of my story with you.

You are the one that make feel understood, since I was like 13teen.

I'm so sorry if my English isn't very good but I'll do my best.

I'm not very active on social media , because I'm very shy when I have to talk about myself.. but If this could work, I must do it.

I will try to send a letter, If I can find the strength to mark this feeling on paper.

**IF I'M WRITING TO SOMEBODY FROM HER STAFF, PLEASE JUST LET THIS MESSAGE REACH TAYLOR**

I'll try now to resume, because I don't want to bother you too much.

This has been a crazy year so far, and the all the time I spent by myself during the lockdown didn't help at all.

This situation brought me back to childhood.

I spent a lot of my days back and forth in hospitals, due to my allergies.

I had to wear a mask all the time I wanted to go outside to avoid severe allergic reaction (that's why this Covid thing awakened some hurting memories)

I didn't have real friends back then, 'cause I've spent most of the summers at home, watching other kids playing around, from my window, or from the windows of my classroom.

It was so hard to make new friends, because the only thing that other kids saw was my mask.

I was the masked kid.

I was the strange kid.

I couldn't play with them.

Everytime I tried to play with them, the only thing I heard was "oh you are ill , I don't wanna be like you so stay away".

This situation made me start to write things in my personal diary.

I wrote small sentences, as a kid, and that was the only thing I could do alone inside an empty classroom during all summer.

This situation continued  for many years.

I wasn't the cool kid before, I wasn't the cool guy after.

The only things that let me enjoy those days were writing and listening to your songs.

I started to listen to your music thanks to my English teacher. She was a fan of folk and country music and she gave me a pic in which you were singing near a lake (I still have that photo somewhere, I strongly remember the white banner with your name written in red on it) and told me to listen to the cd she gave me that day.

I immediately fell in love (I think I still have a crush on you, I'm sorry).

I loved your album. I loved your voice. I loved the lyrics.

I remember having a "test" in school: each one of the class had to write their favourite lyrics and let the others guess the song.

If the someone guessed It, We could play the cd.

I chose Love Story and I translated it in Italian.

The class guessed the song, and I played it.

After the lunch break I went back to my desk and I saw some bullies that were breaking my cd-album and they started to laugh at me because I loved your music an I loved writing poems.

I was a boy so I was a loser because I enjoyed those things.

That felt terrible, but I continued to love your songs even more .

Those were my inspiration to write and to study english.

I felt so good when I listened to your album and this still happens.

Then I went to a private high-school.

Nothing changed, I still was the nerd guy that always got good grades and I have to say that the first year was quite good, but the second year was the start of the apocalypse.

I choose that school because two girls that I knew from childhood went there.

One of the cool new guys started to spread a fake "news" about me.

He said to everyone that I was the boyfriend of one of the two girls that I mentioned before.

So he was the cool guy and one of the girls believed him and told me to f*** myself.

The other girl was her best friend, so you could imagine by what happened next.

After 14 year spent together, I was nobody.

I didn't have "friends" in that class anymore.

I didn't say hello to anybody for 4 years, and nobody would say anything to me.

Nobody to talked with me.

That's great when you're a teenager.

I hated to wake up every morning.

I had an eating disorder, I lost like 22pounds in less than a month. Got hospitalized twice. I kept vomiting for 3 years, every single morning before school.

During that time I only talked with one of my cousins, who lived like 2 hours by car from me.

He was older than me but he always tried to help.

He knew that I loved to write poems so he started to give me guitar lessons.

I made it through a lot of things thanks to him.

I'm sorry, It's hard for me to write this part of the story.

I still get emotional when I think about this.

On the 10TH of December 2013 (some days after his birthday) we received a phone call from his mother: She warned us that he didn't return home after the last working shift.

I wrote a message to him like 3 hours prior to that phone call.

Never had the opportunity to get a reply again.

This year is the seventh year that he is missing.

That destroyed me.

I felt empty.

I felt like nothing couldn't help me.

I still feel that everytime I care about someone in my life, it will disappear someday.

This have happened several other times.

You know when ignorants say that men don't cry, is real bullshit. Men cry. I cried a lot.

I wrote so many poems , lyrics, thoughts in that period of time, that I destroyed my hands.

That was the only way to close my eyes and let me reach another reality because the real one was way too much for me.

Be a sensible man in this world is somehow a curse.

All these things made me afraid  even to hug someone 'cause I feel I'm too ugly or just to scared to be refused.

I will stop here my story, but there's so much more to tell.

I make it through all of these things and memories because I keep dreaming that one day I could meet you and we could talk together.

Dreaming about the fact I could spend a day with you made me find the power to battle my depression.

I'm 25 now and this year I'm not dreaming anymore.

I was going to start again university, I wanted to get a degree in marketing and have the chance to live in the us.

For years I believed that I would make it and hopefully be part of your marketing team.

I'm so stupid. All these years I kept dreaming to avoid pain.

I wanted to pursue my passion and continue to write lyrics but all I was doing was putting myself in unrealistic realities.

This covid situation made everything clear.

When everyone had someone to facetime (or video call) I was alone.

When everyone had someone asking them "how are you?" I only had myself looking in the mirror saying: "Will I ever feel better?"

I've never been the one for anybody, and I think I'll never be.

I won't be the one among all your fans to realize his dream.

Nobody likes me, and I'm exposing myself once again just because I want the opportunity to smile at something that could happen to me.

I'm tired to smile only for others best moments.

I've always seen the sun through a window.

I want to feel happy.

I want to burn my face with the sun.

I'm so sick of hiding my pain,

sick to cry when I'm alone in my car before going to work,

sick to let my eyes rain on my pillow every night.

I'm sick to say to my mother that I'm fine, just because I don't want to make her feel bad.

It's not her fault.

She is battling with a degenerative autoimmune disease, why I should put other weight on her shoulders?

I didn't give up to my weakness before because I don't want to hurt her.

I always say to her that soon she will feel better, that's why your song It's stuck in my head.

But when she won't be here anymore, how I can go through all of that?

I don't even know if will ever get better for me.

Will this pain ever stop?

Sometimes it's so hard to live and so easy to die.

Hope that my dream to spend some time with you can become true.

Thank you for everything, you gave me the strength to go on for many years.. But this time is so hard to put on my armor and continue this battle.

But is this even worth if thy I try to surround myself with people and I always feel lonely?

D.

@taylorswift @taylornation @jackleopards-thedolphinclub

[animeraider]

I get a lot of flack from anti-vaxxers, anti-maskers, and other fuckwits about my words on the COVID-19 Pandemic and in particular the response to it in the US. I pull no punches about it, I believe firmly that the previous administration and ANYONE who enables them and their policies are complicit in the deaths of all of these people. They belong in prison.

I'm not going to fucking apologize for believing that. The fault for all of this belongs directly in the laps of the Republican Party. If you believe otherwise, you're WRONG. I can bring the receipts.

I've been pretty isolated during all of this. I went into lockdown on March 11, 2020 and I'm technically still there. I now work from home, and even though I've been fully vaccinated for two months now I still go out masked. I may never eat at a buffet again. Sorry Sizzler, but I've learned how to make your cheese bread.

I ripped a tendon in my left knee in May of 2020. I had to go to the hospital, but I was out in a few hours with crutches. I would joke with people that I'm now out of hinged joints to break.

But in July my cough returned with an attitude, and I picked up an infection. Not Covid, but it all made me pretty sick. So that you understand, I have what's called "Chronic Cough Syndrome". I've had it since I was 8. No one knows the cause or the cure. Believe me, we've looked. I just start coughing, and after a few months, I stop. It can be treated but I just have to live with it until someone comes up with something we haven't tried before.

Doctors have gotten into fistfights over whether or not I have Asthma. I don't, but sometimes Asthma medications work for a bit. To be honest, I've had this for so long that sometimes I don't even notice when I cough. It's just part of the wonder of being me.

I took the Pandemic seriously. I stayed home, I socially distanced, I got real familiar with teams, bluejeans, and zoom. I did a LOT of cooking. Started making bread. Watched the country fall apart at the seams and commented on it from my own little pocket of safety. I contributed a new song to a fund-raising effort for nurses. I did my part to stay safe, but my cough had other ideas.

Anyway, this time my coughing got pretty severe and I finally agreed to go to the hospital. As stated above, turns out I had picked up an infection. Combine that with my cough and I showed all of the symptoms of a severe case of COVID-19.

I'd been careful, but the hospital staff were all very cross with me. If I had COVID, I just exposed all of them, and the main nurse who tended to me had already been quarantined that same month for a different exposure. When the test came back negative the tension in the emergency ward calmed down immensely and everyone treated me kindly and professionally - I was a patient with something they knew what to do with and didn't bring plague into their house.

I spent 4 days in the hospital but the worst part, scariest part, was the wait to move from the Emergency Room to a private room. I came to the hospital in the late afternoon. I finally got my bed nearly 12 hours later, a good 8 hours after my test for COVID had come back negative.

I needed to be hospitalized, and needed a bed, and there weren't any. I had to wait for someone to either be discharged or to die.

I got my bed at 4 in the morning. Someone had died. Musical chairs was played and I was finally moved out of the Emergency Room.

It's really hard to understand how sobering that is without experiencing it. Many years ago, before we even knew about AIDS, I had the honor of donating blood and seeing it get used in a surgery mere minutes later. I became a regular blood donor at that moment - I felt so happy and alive that my blood had been used to save a life mere minutes after I had donated it (I'm O Negative) that I became a life-long believer. I donated every time I was eligible from that moment forward until a blood infection disqualified me from ever donating again 20 years later.

This was just the opposite. The guy with a cough and a treatable infection had to wait for someone on a ventilator to stop breathing. Someone with COVID died so that I could get a bed. They never knew this had happened, and I never learned who they were. Some random person died so that I could get better.

Try sleeping after that realization hits you. I couldn't. I barely slept the entire time I was there.

Despite the fact that I wasn't in the "COVID Ward" I got to see the effects first-hand. The newly disinfected bed and room I had was previously occupied by someone moved up to the Covid Ward. They in turn had moved up there after a ventilator was taken away from a patient who died. Staff rotated through different wards on different shifts. My first nurse was rotated into the Covid Ward. My next day nurse had just rotated out. I have never in my life seen a group of people look so haunted by their day to day lives.

A well-liked member of their staff was on a ventilator. So was a priest who worked in the hospital. I had never seen in person a "Code Blue". There were six of them my first day. There is also a "Code Black". It's much worse.

My wife and daughters weren't allowed to visit me. When your daily soundtrack is nothing but medical staff talking about the good and the bad, terrible television and the moaning/screaming of your new neighbors getting that visit from family is a huge stress relief. It wasn't available this time. I didn't see my family again until I was discharged. There was no outside world.

I admit that being in hospital during all of this, even though I myself didn't have COVID, shook me. When you're in hospital mostly what you deal with is yourself and your own condition, and getting the hell out of there as soon as you can. This time I was not only aware of the people around me, their conditions, their suffering and their recoveries, but I was also aware that a whole section of the building was dedicated to people who were going to die, and that the people who were treating me were also treating them.

This was as close as I got to the Pandemic. When I got home I fucking STAYED THERE. I went to the grocery store and the pharmacy and that was it. That was life for MONTHS.

Our grocery store was fantastic - they enforced social distancing and masks with gusto. They cleaned EVERYTHING. It had been a 24 hour store but converted to shorter hours so that the down time could be spent cleaning. Aisles were made one-way.

The first time I saw someone in the parking lot without a mask I have to admit that I lost it. I screamed at them (a white couple about my age), "PUT YOUR FUCKING MASKS ON YOU FUCKING MORONS!" Understand, I'm a fairly large man with a deep voice and have been a professional singer for decades and have played sax even longer. I'm loud and imposing. Everyone within 50 feet turned and stared at the couple. Okay, me first then the couple.

It's possible they didn't speak English. They exchanged a few words in Russian to each other and then masked up.

I've been known to let my temper show. I try not to because I know it's there and I know it's terrible. I've worked for decades to keep it in check and I just let it all out, screaming at a couple of rando Karens 20 feet away from anyone else who hadn't put their masks on yet. I had to acknowledge that this affected me profoundly. I'm dealing with that.

I've lost friends to COVID. One of my neighbors spent almost 3 months on a ventilator and survived it. Some of my friends have lost family. It hurts. It all hurts. It has changed me.

Some of you have noticed that I've been pretty productive in 2021 in terms of music, after not releasing material for over a decade. This whole experience has changed me, changed my perspective. I was already an angry liberal but I'm far angrier and much more liberal now than I was. The album I worked on forever essentially no longer exists. The person I am now couldn't make that album. I am excising demons and allowing the new to come in and take its place.

And you know what, so far, I'm okay. I'm still here. I intend to stay. In fact, what I intend to be the first song from my next album in its own way deals with the fact that I don't understand depression - I've never experienced it.

But I have to admit that I'm grateful to have family and friends in my life who accept me as I am, who provide unconditional love and support and I hope I do for them. I have the occasional doubt that I'm as good a friend/family member as I can be. I can be an ass sometimes.

(A couple of my long-time friends have just done spit-takes. "Sometimes????")

Because the scariest thing about what we've all been through - what I've been through - is that we have changed so much that I'm not sure that the people who know me best would be my friends if they met me as the person I am now. I am changed.

And the odds are pretty good that you have too. This is something we're all going to need to deal with, or we're lost.

Please, don't be lost.

And because it still needs doing, because the pandemic is still going strong as ever among the anti-vaxxers, the science deniers and the Republicans, please support our nurses. Here's the album I'm on that is still to this day, long after falling off the charts, raising money for them: