#like girl why don't you go and find profitable job instead of putting so much time and energy on this topic

[victorxaxvale]

do people know that crying on twitter won't stop people from pirating stuff?

[6knotty6thotty6]

So a couple of months ago, I saw a YouTube video that was an audio recording of season 5, episode 6 of Bojack Horseman, “Free Churro.” In the episode, the main character, Bojack Horseman, spends 20 minutes giving a eulogy at his mother’s funeral. There’s one big problem though, his mother was an abusive bitch. His eulogy is him trying to contemplate what she meant by her drying words, “I see you,” and whether or not she loved him. As someone who has a dead parent who was abusive, this is probably my favorite episode of any show ever for how much it helped me understand my feelings. The comments section is filled with people sharing their pain with their abusive families, but one comment stood out to me above all the others by how raw and relatable it was. This comment was by a YouTuber named Moonstruck. At the bottom of this post is a link to her channel. Please support her. After reading this, she deserves a million subscribers. Also please watch Bojack Horseman. (I corrected some of the grammatical errors to make it easier to read)

Disclaimer: Child abuse, bullying, trauma, and mental health:

Moonstruck: 

This is a great monologue, but one part of it, in particular, really caught my attention was the 'grand gesture' bit.

When I was a kid, I read this book called "Chicken Soup for the Soul." There's a shitload of them. I don't remember which particular one it was. I hated the whole series because it's just someone profiting off a bunch of other people's stories rather than trying to write their own, in my opinion. 

Anyway.

This one story that I remember, the ONLY one I remembered,  was sent in by a little girl. She wrote about how her father never told her that he loved her. He never once, in her whole life, said the words "I love you." I don't remember her mom being mentioned, maybe she was dead; it doesn't matter. The point is her dad was basically an emotionless asshole. Well, one day, this girl gets sick. Really sick. Possibly on her deathbed sick. She wrote that one day she woke up to find a necklace sitting on her nightstand that had a pendant that looked like her dog. She said she held it to her heart and cried because that necklace said all the things her father never had.

I thought, "What a load of bullshit."

A cheap trinket doesn't make up for years and years of emotional neglect. Anyone can buy a thing and toss it your way. Hell, he didn't even hand it to her himself, just left it there for her to find if/when she woke up, then left her alone again to possibly die.

A lot of people say that actions speak louder than words, in cases like political protests and shit. While that's true, scenarios that this that girl are different. Gifts can never replace the words, "I love you."

When I was a kid, my father never told me he loved me. My mother didn't either, but she's a whole other kettle of fish. I would say 'my biological mother or father,' but I never got adopted ones, so who gives a shit. Anyway. My father was rarely around, and when he was, he just spent the entire time fighting with my mother and leaving again. He would do and say anything that could get him to spend less time in the house with her. With us. I can't blame him. If I could've left during those times, I would have. I tried more than once. I even earned the nickname 'runaway' from a family friend because of it. 

I was told that I was worthless as early as I could understand words. I don't know what it is about me that set my mother off, but she HATED me. I was always told how expensive I was to keep alive and how I wasn't worth it. If I dared ask for anything, she would remind me how much she spent just to keep me from starving to death and that it was too much already. On the rare occasion I was given something, it was so she could use it as a threat. She was like, "Sure, you can have that toy horse since we got your sister a real one, but you better behave or we'll give it to her and let her break it." Or "Oh, fine, we can keep this dog as a FAMILY pet (NOT YOURS), but if you do something we don't like, we'll take it away and kill it." 

Oh, yeah. I have a sister. She’s cut from the same cloth as our mother. I don't consider any of them family anymore. She was two years older than me. She was the "we should have stopped while we were ahead" kid. Anything she wanted, she got. 

"Mom, can I have an award-winning horse and expensive dressage lessons?"

"Sure!"

"Mom, can I have a car?"

"No problem!"

"Mom, can you pay for my ballet lessons?"

"Absolutely!"

She was the golden child. The one that could do no wrong and wasn't a mistake. Even after she totaled her car, got arrested for an underage DUI, and got pregnant three times in high school, she was still the good one. I never even asked to go to school dances, parties, or go out with the one friend I had. My sister liked to see me in pain. She'd tell our mom that I did things just to get me in trouble. Whether it involved blaming me for things she did or fabricating stuff, she'd say whatever it took to get my mother to beat me while she watched and laughed. Oh, yeah, our mom was BIG on physical punishment. I've been whipped with everything from a riding crop, a wooden paddle, spoons, and especially belts. Anything that was close at hand when my mother got irritated, I've been hit with it. 

At one point, my sister had three tall, beautiful show-worthy horses. I was allowed to keep a sickly old pony for all of a week before she was taken away, then I'd get called ungrateful for asking why we had to get rid of HER instead of one of the horses. Even though my mother said it cost too much to keep them all. With horses being obviously too rich for my blood, I asked for something cheaper, and for once, I got it. I was given a baby goat that one of our neighbors' goats had abandoned for being too weak, and they didn't have time to raise. I loved that goat. I bottle raised him, and named him Ben. He was my best friend for a while. When he grew up, he got so big that I was able to stand on his back to grab tree branches and pull them down so he could eat the leaves. I walked him on a leash like a dog every day. I loved him so much. My mother had me enter him in a show, and we won ninth place! I was thrilled to have something to show against my sister's collection of dressage show ribbons. I finally had proof that I could do something right! Sure, the prize money was taken away from me, but I still had Ben.

But Ben didn't come home with me after the show. It turns out he was sold to a slaughterhouse because that show was for meat goats. I didn't know until he was already gone. Of course, my mother punished me for being upset and even forced me to write a thank-you card to the people who bought his meat. 

My mother was always like that. Anything I loved was used as a threat. I eventually accepted that loving anything was a waste of time. I learned to detach myself from my feelings, and I got really good at it. I can completely turn off my emotional reaction to anything. One time I had to put down one of the egg-laying hens at work that got too sick to save, and I felt nothing while bringing down the ax. When I lost out on a job that could have changed my life, I told myself how stupid it was to hope for anything good. Any positive emotion I felt got me punished, so I learned to feel nothing at all. To this day, I still have trouble feeling things, even when I want to. I'm taking pills now, and they help, sometimes. 

I've had several suicide attempts. I keep a box of razor blades in my desk just to have them close. I got a tattoo of a heart with rainbows on my wrist. Partially for LGBT solidarity, but mostly to remind myself that there is still beauty in the world. I still struggle with wonder if I actually believe it or not. 

I've tried so hard to be a good kid. I never partied, never drank, never smoked even when the chances were there, and I would have greatly loved anything to make the pain stop or even just dull it a little bit. I was in the gifted and talented program at school and was able to graduate at fifteen. For a while, I was sent to a children's home where I was passed around to many people I didn't know, including a clown who I may or may not have actually been related to, until I eventually wound up out here where I am now. It's all pretty hazy, and the details get scrambled. 

It's been 10 years since I've had contact with my mother and sister. I can't even keep in touch with the one friend I had, even after I lived with her. She's tried to reach out to me, but I just… can't. I try, but I can't. Sometimes, I can almost pretend that my past wasn't real. It's just a hazy fog that isn't really there. I want to believe that if I don't allow something, or someone, who was part of that past, someone tangible and real, into my life again, then the fog will go away. This is why I can't do it. I know I'm a terrible friend. Ariel, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. You're better off without me in your life anyway. 

I typed all of this out because sometimes, about fifty dollars or so shows up in my PayPal from my father's email address. I don't know if it's from him or from her using his email, but it doesn't matter either way. The point is I know my mother is the one sending the money.

I know my mother likes to think she's a good person. She went to church every Sunday, and probably still does. She organized a lot of church events and participated in every church function. I had to be an altar server for several years until I aged out of it and was in the choir. She kept going to that church even after the priest got drunk, called me many horrible names in front of everyone, and was revealed to be a pedophile that raped a little boy at gunpoint. She probably still goes to that same church and organizes things. She likes being in charge. She likes having people look at her and say, "That there is a good person."

But are you, though, Mom? Are you really a good person? Were you a good person when you hit me? When you lied to me? When you laughed with my sister about how much I got hurt for things I didn't do? Were you a good person every time you told me you'd kill my cat or leave my dog at the pound? Were you a good person when you sold Ben to be eaten, knowing that I loved him? Were you a good person when you made me read "A child called It" and told me that you'd start doing the things in that book to me if I didn't behave? Were you a good person every time you told my father I was a liar whenever I tried to tell him what you were doing to me? Were you a good person when you told me I wasn't worth the cost of being alive? Were you? 

Fuck you, Mom! Keep your fucking money! A necklace on the nightstand isn't enough. A trinket can't heal years and years and years of abuse and hurt. You can't hide these scars under dollar bills. I hope you die alone. I know I probably will, but I don't even care anymore. I lost the ability to care thanks to you. You can't make up for the things you did and the things you didn't say now. Too little, too late! 

[yuichi-ro]

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─────── ʜᴀɴᴍᴀ x ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ x ʙᴀᴊɪ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ disclaimer: rambling thoughts, incoherent ideas, heavily canon divergent but I don't care this is mostly just me jotting down notes pls do not reblog

─» diverging from my #hanmee ship only once they reach Toman vs Valhalla fight

─» Baji doesn't die (obviously) but he ends up too out of it to actually kill Kisaki at the fight like he intended ─» Things go south when Hanma can't get out of there quick enough when the cops are called, resulting in his arrest along with Kazutora and a few others from Valhalla ─» Baji is of course taken to the hospital and Hanma is detained. No ones able to go speak to Baji on behalf of Hanma (slightly Kisaki bc of Valhalla) so that's when I end up visiting Baji in the hospital ─» He has no idea who I'm friends with but just figures I'm close to someone that got hurt during the fight ─» We chat, he's writing a letter (poorly) to Kazutora and I off handedly mention I need to write a letter to someone also. But have no idea who to give it to to assure they get it ─» I end up helping Baji with spelling (of course) and Baji helps me write my first letter to Hanma in prison ─» That's kind of where our friendship takes off but Baji has that puppy vibe of "a slightly older smart girl is talking to me, help what do I do" ─» Once again the "he won't leave me alone" saga continues ─» Our friendship kind of continues like that for the duration of Hanma's incarceration. We bond over writing letters together, morphing into me helping him in school and so forth ─» Yes he shows up to my house multiple times unprompted and in that fucking stupid looking suit with his hair tied back and his glasses ─» Hanma and I never loose contact and I tell him all about Baji and how I think they'd enjoy each other so Hanma gets like a third persons view of meeting Baji more intimately than just Valhalla meeting ─» Two of them still really have no idea who the other is but stupid is hot so ─» When they finally meet its a little awkward if not for a very brief moment in time ─» They share the same braincell I cannot emphasis this enough ─» Toman continues in the direction of the perfect timeline where everyone's still alive but Mikey fucked off ─» Kisaki didn't find Hanma useful anymore so he dropped him back in my lap and did the rest of his evil shit with Izana (resulting in Emma's death and so forth + Kisaki still ends up dead but without Hanma by his side) ─» Baji never got over the puppy dog crush he had on me when he was younger so he kind of just tagged along and befriended Hanma just a little too much ─» We decided to try out a "three way" thing about a year after Baji graduated. He was spending nearly every waking moment with us anyways and Hanma thought it would be fun ─» And thus Baji never left ─» Baji runs his pet store with Chifuyu as his main manger ─» Hanma does a few jobs here and there, some with Baji but ultimately ends up working in a restaurant (fast paced, doesn't bitch too much about it ironically) ─» With myself still going to cosmetology school (me and Akkun are slated to be hair besties no matter what ship) ─» Marriage doesn't really come up for awhile because Hanma and Baji think its funny when people think they're "roommates" and then proceed to make out in front of people. That joke never gets old 🙄 ─» When it does finally happen, we actually opt for a hand binding ceremony when "marriage" comes up because (as Hanma puts it) why not take advantage of the profits of being unwed and still do a wedding ceremony ─» Baji thinks he's a genius and now you see why they share a braincell ─» All three of us have wedding band tattooed on our ring finger instead of any actual wedding (Baji and Hanma picked out the artist and I chose the design) ─» We're married for a little bit before kids come up. And honestly it's Baji who brings it up first. But I end up with Hanma's kid first. It wasn't really a "who goes first, try" kind of thing it just happened roughly around the time we're all 25/26 ─» One kid in and Baji is having a hard time waiting for his turn and honestly we make it to about a year post partum before he's really insistent on another one ─» Both end up as boys but jokes on them the kids look identical to me. So it really doesn't matter what dad takes them out, they basically look like two mini me's even though

Hanma and Baji nit pick about

the very small details they swear resemble themselves ─» They look eerily similar for two different sperms. And often joked about by strangers how they're irish twins. Then I make people real uncomfortable by saying the only thing they share is the same oven they baked in + the same last name ─» Speaking of last names, still they both take my last name. Baji has a little push back from his mom at first but the second grandkids are mentioned she gives zero fucks about last names and only when the babies are gonna come ─» Surprisingly (ok not so much on Baji's part) both of them are very in tune with their kids. The boys are higher energy and well so are Baji and Hanma so they tire themselves out regularly ─» Aside from the two kids, Baji manages to talk me into two dogs. Specifically black labs for some weird reason. And then somehow three cats as well (the cats predate the dogs 'n kids ngl they were test babies) ─» We fostered exactly once for the pet shop and it was too hard on Baji and the kids so never again ─» The chaos seems to balance itself out. Hanma doesn't bitch about being bored around Baji. Baji has a firm safety net of people who'll knock sense into him for doing stupid shit. And I have two idiots who commit with every fiber of their being ─» And we all share one bed and I barely get any sleep. RIP to me ────────────────────

ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀꜱᴋ ᴍᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱʜɪᴘ!