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morceauoleander · 3 years ago

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Min’s mind & DID

thinking of DID i have some notes i wrote a couple days ago regarding my OC min and how their mind works with their DID! remember this is based off me, and Min is also a polyfragmented system with many sub systems!

while i have a lot of this written down, even Min’s alters names dont really come up outside. they are just Min. they are affected by some fronting but they are also very far into therapy and have many coping mechanisms and skills to help them! theyre doing pretty well and no one really needs to be super aware of their DID on the outside at all, but a knowledgeable Psychic would recognize their disorder upon entering the mind.

its very hard to put together what min’s mind would be like, but i’d likely put it in “layers”

you have the “Front Room”. a small, and quite empty room in which most of the active alters of Min reside. Min is often co-fronting constantly as they’ve gone through therapy for years and have found ways to work together- that being they work together often and co front a lot due to their messy polyfragmented set up. this front room is the most “surface level” part of their mind, and you won’t reach the rest of it for a bit as you must navigate through a foggy black of nothing to get to the rest. this is a sort of dissociative barrier from everything else and you may not pop out the right end at first. it isnt supposed to be covered easily and most will not make it through without some kind of direction.

once through, you’ll tumble down a path and be opened up to a very undefined system of ‘bubbes’ and houses. called the “City Hub” this is the hub of everything else for Min’s system. in Min’s mind, it appears like a city walkway with buildings, houses, parks, etc in a sort of neon-like outline seen on figments but can flicker in and out of being full on 3D objects (they cannot be collected like figments btw) there are a few notable things: 1) ‘figment’-like outlined buildings and bubbles, bubbles that then lead to another “hub” like this - a sub system 2) many fragments... which are very much like ‘figments’ appearance wise but are sometimes capable of speech, fronting, and altering their in-mind appearance. 3) other defined alters, who may be dormant or are simply not at the Front- wandering around like any other person in a mind.

Min’s hub “flickers” into detail from time to time, as it kind of depends on how much mental energy they’re putting into being in the front. Its a lotta work keeping an eye on everyone back there and if they’re focused on the front they may not put a lotta that energy into the visual of their mind.

“sub systems” which appear as another hub like the main one, can be hard to reach sometimes as they can contain dormant alters or dissociative barriers that bar others from accessing it. it is NOT ever suggest one breaks through these barriers- while the Front’s barrier is trouble to get through, tougher barriers like ones blocking these sub systems can be like brick walls. Any psychic learning about dissociation will learn that dissociative barriers are not inherently bad, and that breaking them down can sometimes do more harm than good!

As Min is polyfragmented, their system is quite large, but it is hugely full of fragments. in-game i feel this kind of “messy” mind could be done with a sorta expanding path of the “main hub” being procedurally generated where it close gets less and less defined, maybe with some kinda forced perspective to make it seem never ending. No way would anyone get to explore all of Min’s mind, its too expansive and the further you go, the less defined stuff you’ll find and deal with.

Of course... there is the minds of Min’s alters. A sorta paradox situation, but the mind of the alters can be explored, but its just a smaller “room” inside what is already one person’s mind. its not another body or another brain. Most alter’s minds won’t be crazy big but they may look more akin to another non-dissociative person’s mind due to not being affected by the structure of the System and instead just displaying that one alter’s mind. im not even going to get into the concept of an alter having a system of alters, lets just stop there lol.

All in all, Min’s mind isnt too “weird”, just... expansive. and its almost like having your own massive team of psychics in your head, working as a group but also just living their lives. They have dissociative barriers held up in parts of their mind, and you’re unlikely to find a single memory vault of anything “traumatic” as those are safeguarded and kept far away. Min’s mind holds some typical things like doubt or bad moods, but censors do not work the same way! not in the same way. Min’s system does NOT hold typical roles like “gatekeeper” or whatever, as my system does not and i do not understand those concepts with my alters. here i will go into various Psychonauts’ world aspects that fit into min’s mind:

Alters & censors - Min’s mind does not have censors but rather alters who instruct censors. In a way one may think of panic attacks - not uncommon, but are usually tackled swiftly by alters who deal with them. if an alter who is fronting deals with them while fronting, usually when inside the mind it looks like the “time bubble” effect has been put over everything, but no one is slow. bad moods, bad ideas, doubts, judge - all work as they normally would. they may spawn because of another alter in the system too, as there are many who could get these thoughts. alters often work together to deal with them. baggage - there is a LOT of baggage but its greatly scattered around. when its found and dealt with, its gonna pop up again, somewhere else.

so who are Min’s alters...? well, thats big question considering their system size, and in actuality it doesnt really matter- my system is huge but we work collectively without much thought aside from some defined hosts. So, here are Min’s most defined hosts!

Koffee (he/they) - not unlike Min, and isn’t very old system wise, but he’s been co fronting since he formed and is almost never without Min. They and Min are often the ones to old the others together when fronting in more intense situations. Green (they/them) - quiet, a thinker. likes to be the logical one but can get consumed in things go wrong. they keep shit in line for sure, have been known to fall into panics if they arent fronting with a good partner. Sable (she/he/they) - a fun one no doubt. they’re the one who definitely falls into being a bit immature and overly friendly. people like her a lot no doubt, but she isnt the best judge in many situations. she gets shit done though, thats for sure. she enjoys company and she likes working. Root (he/him) - not unlike Sable, but not a fan of all the more social things they tend to lean into. they are casual, a bit humorous, and incredibly analytical. they are great at organizing things but can be a bit controlling about it.

all of them have varying skills they are good at psychic wise, but i dont have the energy to go into that now too.

so yeah. thats a lot of what goes on in min’s mind! if anyone has questions on things regarding it and DID let me know! pls remember this is MY experience with DID. this is not what it is for everyone else. other than the basic criteria, lots of this can vary!

#psychonauts #oc #pn oc #psychonauts oc #min

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between-two-fandoms · 3 years ago

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Ren Ranks Power Rangers Series (Ninja Storm - Dino Fury)

I am including Hyperforce in this and the 2017 movie but not the other side movies between seasons. Also it's been a solid 2 years since I've seen Power Rangers so my memory's a little foggy.

Dino Thunder - it was one of my first shows, I love it so much. Plus Tommy Oliver's comeback.

RPM - it was just really cool for me to see? I loved Summer and Ziggy.

Dino Charge/Super Dino Charge - Riley and Chase my beloved. Also ShelbyxTyler was adorable and Kendall was awesome! I didn't really like the way it ended with the time paradox stuff but oh well. It's still a good and heartwarming series to watch.

Dino Fury - the newest Hasbro season. I love the energy and the vibe from the show! The cast is talented and the writing actually doesnt suck! I hope they get picked up for more episodes.

Time Force - Jen Scotts, need I say more?

Hyperforce - I found Hyperforce right around when I was getting into RPG games so I loved it! I wished they sold the game in mass production.

Mystic Force - Vidya is a queen. Udonna is iconic.

Beast Morphers - awesome kickoff show for Hasbro. It was a great callback to RPM and a cool way to show what Hasbro had to offer for ranger fans, new and old alike. The multi show crossover was hype.

2017 Movie - a great big screen adaptation of the MMPR series. A lot went wrong but hey, power rangers on the big screen, it's so cool!

MMPR - I didn't grow up watching the OG stuff so it kind of just exsists for me? It's good but I'd take Dino Thunder over MMPR any day.

Jungle Fury - Casey's development was great. Jarrod's redemption arc was cool to watch! Camille was my biwakening.

Ninja Storm - I like Cam, Dustin had some funny lines here and there. Plus, Dino Thunder crossover!!!

Lightspeed Rescue - I loved the dynamic part of it! Dana & Ryan's sibling thing was interesting to watch!

Ninja Steel - I loved Calvin and they had a lot of promise. The writing kinda took a left turn into the trash can but it was enjoyable to watch.

Samurai/Super Samurai - it's eh? Jayden sucks but like, everything else was okay? Plus we got our first female red ranger out of it!

Megaforce - how to fuck up an anniversary season in 40 episodes. I actually liked it but it could've been way better.

Operation Overdrive - I just... what? I didn't really understand this show at all.

Zeo, Alien Rangers, Turbo, Wild Force, Rangers In Space, and SPD get chunked together cause tbh I dont remember anything from them.

#ren ranks #power rangers #saban #hasbro #how do i tag #ren rambles #anyways i guess im a power rangers blog now too

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kyanmaaaa · 6 years ago

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i told my bro abt this dream and hes just like why are your dreams so dark (so like, tw for this one)

but honestly i didnt really consider this dark it was oddly beautiful if scary. im going to fill in parts with what i think could have happened there but im also not going to include the details for what the room looked like in every scene besides whats neccassary, cause this was so vivid i could try to describe to you what each PERSON looked like and people usually dont even have faces in my dreams!

its still long so heres a read more

beginning of the dream im walking home at dusk and im coming from a direction i almost nvr walk, except for when its halloween. so it may have been halloween in my dream, the sunset is a beautiful BRIGHT orange and its on the side of my house rather than behind like it usually is but thats a minor detail.

cause around the house behind mine theres a very strange cloud formation, much lower than i usually see clouds and its not foggy but its just, theres clouds wrapped around the house except for the front and the wall just goes up and up and up to the top and slightly past the house. paired with the sunset i think thats really beautiful so i take some pics with my phone and go closer just to see how close i can get before the clouds disappear and then i’ll go home

i didnt get to go home, the clouds wrapped fully around the house and a strong, something, stopped me from leaving. also there was like an evil to/riel so she mighta been the one doing that

next part of the dream kinda jumps around so ill have to infer some parts but essentially the house changes from the building ive seen there for you know, my entire life, to a small dark wooden mansion. also muffet is there and guess what she ALSO sucks. and then theres this bitch blond haired human pony tail man and hes dumb and i dont like him. im not allowed to leave and im kinda enslaved i guess (my bro called me a prisoner with a job when i told him and it was stupid funny). muffets off on a job after i get settled in there and i dont know what happens to make me so submissive considering the next part of the dream focuses on another servant but whatever they did was REALLY REALLY BAD cause at every point after this im terrified of fucking up and ive pretty much given up on getting out.

this next part was more of a flashback sequance that happened later but for ease of reading im going to add it here instead. first other servant i meet is a beautiful large green shiny beetle man, seriously hes gorgeous and so well spoken and kind. when he was brought into the house he was introduced as just a regular human man, still as beautiful as ever tho, was hired to play piano for a party. as hes fiddling away with the keys though if you looked around you could see bright shiny green and gold strings just, laying flat against the wall, piano, his suit, etc. turns out those were his beetle wings but stretched out and distorted and at this point hes discovered cause to the untrained eye those look like decorations, but its how his kind disguises themselves. cause he can change his entire appearance except for his wings, so they have to try and hide their wings in the environment around them.

they didnt like him lying but it was calm at first. muffet invites him to a small welcoming dinner, just for a chat. they share a platter of food on one plate, partly meat, but most of whats facing him is just a lot of rice packed into a line. he slowly pecks away at that as he carries a polite conversation with muffet, but nvr touches the other side of the food. after hes abt halfway through it she asks “Why aren’t you trying the other food deary?” and he responds “I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to Miss.” and has a bite.

after whatevers in that food kicks in he keels over in pain and she makes it very clear how things go in this house. he listens, he does not act without being told to, and if he ever tries to pull a stunt like that again he’ll be dead. “Am I clear deary?”

since he was there before i was some times passed since that happened. hes currently being punished by mr asshole blond ponytail man and his punishment is all of his meals are very plain. just rice and unseasoned meat. the chef clearly put effort into each platter tho as theyve been shaped into increasingly elaborate shapes the longer the punishment lasts. im not quite sure why this is a punishment? maybe beetle man isnt getting all the nutrients he needs and thats harder for his kind, perhaps he has a taste for good food and this is just the most the ponytail dude can get away with as a punishment since muffets in charge of the house, or maybe its meant to bring up bad memories of when he first came here.

this next parts, really foggy

back to me and muffets talking to someone through a large portal in the room? plans are made abt making humans lose hope and wiping out humanity. the vegan next to me is very excited abt this and comments on it and im just like, bro, that would be super bad for the earth and also immoral? and shes like oh right. at some point i befriend a guy even tho we hated each other at first but he’s moved elsewhere after some time

time skip to muffet informing me that due to my most recent mistake my family is going to be killed. at this point im just sick of it i’ve been here for months im miserable im lonely, i miss my family im just kinda, unstable

really unstable

im shouting at her if shes going to off my family she has to kill me too cause i cant live knowing theyre dead because of me or live without them, just sobbing, kill me, please just kill me i cant stay here anymore she sends me to my room and i pass by my beetle friend but neither of us says anything, also passed by some buff monster but its irrelevant. i dont go to my room instead im just looking through hallway after hallway, opening a storage closet and just trying to find SOMETHING to work with because yeah im miserable, yeah this is probably going to backfire but you do NOT. FUCK. WITH MY FAMILY! so i have to leave. i dont care if this might kill me i have to get out of there with whatever the hell i can find. what i find is two deflated balloons with little plastic bits inside that when u press a button they light up and im like OKAY maybe i, maybe me and beetle man can use this to signal to each other! thats great i can do this i can. i think i may have been crying and laughing here after my exploring Im hiding behind a sofa in a room in the furthest corner of the house cradling my little weird balloon bundle, just trying to find space to think. im safe because u cant see me from the door and the blinds on the window are drawn already. it feels like i havent seen the outside in a while remember how i said i was really unstable? this felt completely real in the dream so maybe it was real due to dream logic, but it feels like desperation in hindsight. i clicked both of the balloon lights on and realized i could use it as a phone! i need to call mom i miss her so much. so i do and she goes honey where are you? and im just crying and saying i love you, i love you so much im okay mom, its okay, and shes like are you at school??? and i just turn into a mess. at this point i look through the sheer curtains on the window and notice my brother driving a really tall truck moving some construction supplies. it sucks that hes here too but im just so happy to see him even if i know i cant talk to him. maybe if they dont find out we’re related he’ll be okay and then i leave the mansion, and i run. nothing here is familiar. im somewhere in the woods. i try to run to the front and see all of the construction workers there making something, but besides all the people somehow the dirt is just, this sheer cliff up up and up in front of the place. so i run to the back and try to get through the barrier around the place. i think i do but its not exactly easy. i fought off a possessed wild boar, but it was the size you think a pig would be, so like a medium sized dog, it just tried to bite me and while it hurt i just hit it til it stayed down long enough for me to bolt after im some distance away, further into the forest on a wide path i meet a human whos instantly on guard to fight me. i spray paint in his eyes and then run on i meet a strange human on the same path and he smirks at me and puts paper in front of his eyes to stop my tactic. i go hey fuck it maybe the fumes will disorient him and spray and his magic stops the paint in mid air and im like dude that is SICK, before he flings it back at me

i dont know how but i beat him too but the next part of the dream im finally somewhere residential, houses along the water, its a warm but not too warm day, light breeze, so all in and beautiful. i feel like im seeing and breathing freely and clearly for the first time in, i dont even know how long. its bright and while i know i have to run im just going to keep running, im free for now.

i use my little balloon contraption and call up my mom again now that im somewhere im positive no one will hear me. i tell her im sorry but i cant go home, that this is likely goodbye, and i cant guarantee ill get out of this alive but it’s okay. i love you so much. and she has to leave too. i stress this. she has to leave, cut all ties, cut all things that could trace you and get out of there.

and then my alarm woke me up

its hard to explain why some sections of this dream were so scary, just the feeling of wrongness, isolation, powerlessness, and just some distant pain that i dont know what it was. it felt like the longer i was there the more my world was ending

#dream journal

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castlehead · 3 years ago

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: LITTLE MILE,

PART ONE : : [live for the weekend and buy grams of blow with your paycheck.

see section A. feel good about going for walks. work thru a long distance relationship and get through the suicidal shit okay. then

break promises but also keep a few, not to keep up appearances but you wish rather to keep the purity of your word, which is hard fucking work. wait till she comes for a visit after super long time

apart and spread some roses on the bed because she likes that sort of thing. leave oreos on the pillow as oreos are delicious. ride her later in the night about that time you smoked six cigarettes in five

minutes as she was blowing xanax to prove a point. go to sleep crying but remember a few special moments as well and base your memories around that. see GOD for awhile but then decide it was

bullshit and perhaps just your conscience given a literal voice. see section A. hear nobody text you for days and understand some weird nonsensical ehrebung at really enjoying a smoke for the first

time in the morning as you look out the window. it is brisk and sunny and the bricks of the buildings look beautiful. think what a day what a day etc. then actually try to accomplish something with friends in

PARK SLOPE. understand finally that the general agreement is you whack as shit. then find a letter from your girlfriend from awhile ago and feel uplifted all over again for some reason but as for positivity

you do not discriminate. drink horn of sun to fierce last dregs. think about whether you are actually thin or just think you get thinner when you are really just used to how fat you are. talk to your girlfriend at

a certain point mentioned in section A. while on break for way too long.

sweat out a cluttered subway ride every morning forever. decide to jump off the BROOKLYN BRIDGE then decide not to. look meaningfully at a

church because you are reading twilight of the idols. repeat a lot of different stuff at irregular intervals. repeat stuff at regular intervals. learn that those statements are an acceptable example of an irregular repetition: or is

irregular as regards time only, not difference: an irregular life has less to do with fiber than we think. an irregular life can be as varied as disposition to pate : : as feeling to brokenness, as alteration altered to fear of change

might comfort one back into the nest of ignorance : it doesn't have to mean as regards, well, anything : it itself can be fiber, a fibrous fiber: so: we scrounge for something burred underneath the soft netting: crack up: put way too much

weight in your presence at social events : leave social events early or go to sleep in front of everybody pretending to be passed out : see social events as a total stressor : don't kno what to do : never know what to do ever: social

events. assume yourself a negative, discomfited person thereby. lose all friends because you dig deep into stupidity to find a reason for it, think about it until you go blind, rectify and rectify till all's a mess: is that what you want: yes:

friends are lost based upon too many simpering blasted apologies. really wish that you will leave a good looking corpse and do leave a good looking corpse. wonder why you don’t think about childhood very often, as in the concept.

see section A. come to the conclusion that fuck yes it is too late to have a happy one but really come to understand that that doesn’t matter as all things are for a time anyway but then get pissed off about this because you then realize as well

that you are mere mortal and still fields of open grass and oak away from describing something beautiful or whatever but then also wonder that you are infinite wherein the moment is concerned: and then think about your ex

for some crazy reason because all that matters is the past as regards what you’d want to retain in some eternal rolodex of spite or some shit, or maybe it’s just you but you can’t reimburse your mom because of all the infinite

you’re feeling and tell her you can’t and she says that is okay but doesn’t mention that it is ok because the advent of your twenties was mainly depressing, and you there, in room, gnawing at psyche like some useless ape as usual say, WELL

OUT WITH IT, and there she goes finagling a fart out of her ass your mom we are speaking of your mom and her aggravation and her remnant pain from a lost job years ago because oh certainly to fail once is to fail forever

and then you as you are young realize the moment is forever and you can make it a failure and you can make it a wonderful revealing of some big thickened BLEAR asking for property, asking for sense to be given it but you

can’t you can’t justify the dread nay [beckett] nor the odd ghosts in your bathroom that time you spoke to yourself for days and and and so then so then the weekend promises at least an end to this damned ineradicable

gloom and empty state as in empty and taxing but no state of emptiness no state of gloom yet here is gloom here is the reflections of a man refusing too long to look in the damn mirror and see himself is it you or is it i or is it all

the damn farts from the woman who birthed you wanting to be the final whiffing sound as to all of your gutsy failures and drudges through fields of stone and grass and oak you paint out of a backpack and some green

carpet in your room that one time you tripped balls on a tuesday on mushrooms and the razor talked to you and proved by its unassuming nature a very grill to the face that damned long face of a son too burnt

into his own damned house and wired by the damned eternity that sounds like some resilient, grand tocsin, some priketh ye some don’t but ya know it’s all just plain forgotten and happy at that, I’d live in codes wordless

more than explain this meaninglessness and/or stain on the life of time, that is humanity: that is growth: that is the paradigm of something written, written, scratched along the judgments of your mom’s farting fucking

asshole, your grown ass self, so proud to put on pants, so good at that one joke made riskily at a party and relished ever afterwards, so good at failure, happy failure, happy, happy to enter that small crack in the sadness too, happy

to bloom out of dismissal, shunning, happy to mature past the point of needing a single reason for a fart, an end, or a waste of mind. turn 30.

repeat. [etc] see section A.] ?? . . . .

RAGE on rage on, collapse into morning day like something of a storm, at least Frightful mist, some thunder bloom / glass incipient of the troubling harrowing: Some awful precondition. Out its frightful bells: wetly dew paints grass lucent-

-And I rise away from all that in my small cave in my state an eye half open, My knuckles are red from cracking them on my own jaw very a lot that night And some banging head i.e. sleep deprivation considered itself and made it

Worse. I thwarted myself continually mind whanging useless and thickly, like Sometimes i feel like that hamster I had when I was in middle school, wasn't, That i never named - - - uh, worth, it, wasn't worth it . S'ok it's ok for things

To no be worth it. Don't cry well then here's a fucking cookie Tard. I literally Just spat up phlegm right on my computer / no joke / I am freakish, & loud Also re hamster-mortality: I kno it is tragic, my girlfriend lost HAMSTERR

Named peanut. An entire quadrant of space specking thru eyes of that thing All day . Dont think ive evr done this much speed in one night (lol) i dont think i should be able to backtalk : this quick speed = religious,

[chalk dust molars fanatical facial people crunch 'em with 'em to dust. be sure to drudge up spume in the foggy brume some master floater or for sake of interracial justice an inanimate image of justice untarnished by opinion

or blaspheme. vulgar just for sake of cashing in on the weird honey : dip in there : of big politics etc anticipatory raging, prolepsis, summoner say : ARiSE ! ! !! : my girlfriend: she is sleeping right next to the and oh like a lamb she is, right

next to the voodoo-man, shepherd, making us all fly thru the honey right into some strict objective eye, truly naked vision, making commune with image and self. - - ] She goes on dozing into me and snoring soft like a, like subtle universal truth, or

Somethin. My snot is stuck in the bakc of my skull, i feel, i feel like waking up my Girlfriend with my hands all over like tidal waves : : i know hamstermortality, to let The reader kno : it is the wave of arcanum 17 : it is, it is waft of hope, like random

Prescience. Iit is the great like space etc of all, or some completely lazy encompassing. Kewl things only exist cuz hm i guess they exist for — — time, like hamsterts, Hamsters = meaning of universe, it’s like classical semantics or fuzzy logic:

Supervaluationists predicting borderline cases!!! How many hairs must i lose before You can call me bald : for the hairs will exist alway / they will, they will scream out : They will be a thing that is they are the very fuxxx god calls logic

Slash these words apart, greet blame and slash that, grab the bags: Run from the rage then, drum up some possibility for fuel, beat legs For leagues. ‘Message’ after ye with a bat, won’t get a thing so. But

Kicked up dust he’ll cough on, sweat drooling, finally fatigued: marigolds Fooling in the wind around him, agh, long day: we run into the ‘Pome’ Later: find it sucking on a sugar lump in some coffeeshop, well, money:

Who knew, who but the pivot finally: as drain groans a fable like a job to Do. Shit twists with flood and the seagulls berating lend belief at it all with Solid statement, caw, caw, wishing, duh, To Be Done With Message

Of course, especially one that some brine of heart sloshed up: some Reticular wisdom like as hair, hateful : some weird gloss over shadow Dims the bald head, the bald ‘Message’ - the crested ol’ bigot furious

Yawp yapping damnable in that there roast for the father: big squeeze, Squeeze of animus. Finally, down the block of stillness, down dug into The brig, obstructed color, rigid air, manic doors, kids laughing at him:

Little Mile : : feel it all over again : what answers can we get to as regards You fully: an elliptical, maybe? Or trash, or earthy disarrangement, dirt, Particles resulting in flipflop, wages made but unfulfilled for good? Or

Maybe marigolds !! Breezes coming out of their loops into wiggling weight Themselves, hulking as cathedral tunes, heavy with ambiguous threadiness, And that holy torment of an ever-figuring progenitor, professor of the

'Message'—black & bleak—against the righteous curiosity, ol' puff-head, ol' Apoplectic, Sorry For The State Of - - and dese homeless parties of the Sad. The sad chase, the chase as I must do is still solo. But grand, the

Hemophilic fire, the rusty brigade o’ pleaches o’ daffy hair, dummy cunt To stake on cosmic sex, just a blowoff: still. Then. Little dragoons whiffed It up anyways and blessed the fakery past mythos into real, made a great,

Big sepulcher for all 'em fathers: all the risks at tacky jive: lagoon: great, Great swoon of fibrous living out the ducky’s little murmuring in the mud, Tump-a-tump with buckles o’ swash : #dgaf : yet is we da pirate , as in ,

We is , we ah make anything magnificent and say it is that and leave it So. We. Croon and wait for that swell damned music’s dish to punch big and soft into the pillow : we: meet poetry POETRY POETRY POUR IT ALL

And soft into th. pillow. We. Down a side-street : have a baffled-eye ‘a sec: Din in the den gets closed the sisters ears : think some nature-shit: stfu: Bucolic site there wispy girl : pencil neck : root , , , for Image-Pleasant:

For you that is : root for the Panjundrum not, in his anger-yells all daffy, Deadening reasons for the noise, amplified like a big [bracket] to the side Of something, past declaration, past the final honesty and towards some

New squeamish chuck of ew-grease out of my bad throat : 'Message' Attempts to toughen with - providence, it feels, it knows - of mere scraps Of itself, and then I emit new strings for my shoes, frayed knot, couple

Stoners ranting in a parking lot when one sees a human innim and flees, From eye of him : one states the [bracket] as annotation even though it Supplies nothing : mere notation is as much enclitic for an infidel sense

As rhyming to behead borders of rhythm with timing , adding meaning Like chaff at the end while a sprocket ebbs out then 'splodes at once, a Gathering of mite and fingernail and bedding shod in the cracks under

The bland couch then sets aflame, burning down the garbage, which is Everywhere : police police : fuck da : : whelp : lost musings only whelm As much as one is willing to go rapidly , that is, will be as quality as the

Quicken, enacting some different statement thru defensive natures of style Like Declension : Logoaedic : parse the thought, then let it run before the Jello melts, food gets cold: picnic raped by ants. Premise of the rule. So the:

Uh: bracketed, shuffling fragged things dole more out for the warmness, As in, have something mean what it means, leave it at notation , make the Final well and, "End like a spear, not like a broom" - - Well, who knows

About honor: maybe just to prove myself I will right something really for Awhile too messed for the husbandman to mould with his ass: drop the Incisive manacles, they get my wrist bit with copper: write to right a thing

You never mention: madden out copper tongues: make demands about Stuff you have no idea you are actually talking about: but that's not going To mention itself either and is perhaps what is missing for the right reasons:

So why yell out proper tongues if that is all tongues want is their own voice To hock a spray of legit logey sniffed up the nasal psg. and out into the World. Well. Garbage burns itself to slew. But you like that. You enjoy

The mesmerized epiphanic trumpeting, priketh, prike prike : nasty uncle, He was , and a bald head a sunshine away from DEATH-LAZER. Stun, But be stupid as brick. As was said, I speak to reflect mirrors in darkness.

Should be obvious. Maybe this inkling of finding a new way to speak'll Dart straight for the first reason to pant and wave commodities at the sullen Sucker-tourist upon losing his next day's provender at the hands of silly kids.

DeMand: Wring rungs out proper tongues, lick pompous, drone on in thatt Stat o’ thing: status of thing: state of things: rut t tt t t t tt t tt t t tttt tt t t t t tttt Guts me : feeling in’t I feel nothing but in hole: & & & & & & & & & & & & &

Still the great compilers edge more into the fantastic, learn to eat it along with The tragic as one happy meal. Eventual blossom, hoping Mary and Ed ride fine Off into the sunset, cans tied to the bumper clicking like cliché: Jesus is sick :

He tells me so much is at risk here : then again, who could harbor such a feel But Big J or Yeezy : : well he’s a prick : that’s why you shouldn't music so much: I don’t listen to music nomores: even you’re tarnished bc of all this harlot noise

Attempting heaven, & whatnot : WHAT? WHO THN ?? WHAT THEN ?? So Fortunately, I’m Done. Getting into ye head. I’m already there. Felt random & Also, tortuous pressure spread keen thru label after label, waiting for sustenance,

It was given, as if words could ugh the body with ugh : feed me with 'don't' is What the character 'Message' means. This sentence means it is myself declaring A sentence. That is what it means, and the Myself in it shines out of that part of

It like some beautiful renegade oxygen, a distillation more perverse, a naked way, A death of all that damnable stuff we got our heads warped around in like some Exquisite Fucking Turban [tho false] tho, maybe drunk off picked points smacking

Of defeat, well : : : such's to give up meaning at all - - MESSAGE _a t_ _a l l_ [?] As if words could damage the body : does language uh have one string it can plukk To stop the heart?[.] Or does it all. Well. Uh, lose weight: is it a fascinating receptacle,

Or mere extensiveeverything: ” Do You Believe In God.” – – – – – – I wouldn't be Able to give you anything for jesus, much less Jews. HAve little idea what I believe. Belief is odd. I think I believe in, just, being chased, you know, for thievery. It's a

Saturated L.A. sun like in this song by [The National] it is called "Pink Rabbits." it Is really damn good I remember feeling like the string to my heart almost cut that one Time. But I couldn't tell you anything a medium in some spooky curtained shop

Wouldn't be able to perform with a bit more erggh 'flair' well damn I despise flair write To construct a core or write to DeMand to write or write to right something wrong w. Your sister's [hairdo] or write about strings. Write about all the strings. What all of

Them would do if connected THE WORLD IS POME across the globe. Don't think There'd be much room else for people. Well no worries then, you’ll steal hunches till you Can’t even breathe a thinnest wisp of sister-air. Enjoy never figuring out anything. I

Like to tip-toe but that's no way to run , I gotta say the world is fucked w/o a point , , , The drain is really sick [!] w. all this flood it might as well be the guts of garbage And the rightness of wrong , of the failed and of lineage thru language do we bring

Our own booze do we sing some amped version of the obvious soullessness everybody Gets to grate all over everybody else like some annoying sadness too small for this World, too inscrutable to be anything bt what it is, what it is not anything, as POME

Is words, not ideas, get subjugated by need to buddy up with certainty by corroborating This or that line with another, breaking another, letting pennies go slipshod thru da Grate, while all the while mighty confusion rends a new surprise in plain polished sight,

But o the bees in my gut wig out more folly but as plain to live and hope by their ruin To bring the ties untangled, yes, state the statement-as-goal, martyr a few mirrors thru Indelible mistake, ending Kierkegaard at Democritus' river etc. NO WE NEVER

STEP THRU THE SAME RIVER TWICE NO NOR PERHAPS ONCE, anyways, The bees escape nathless from a pirson-prison. In spite of all this floppy flotsam, Like some weird torture. The stingings bless, the robust yellow flow mitred across

De backs uf'm. And I still considerable, a regular pill for the unagog men still seeing Me unsightly, some lack, some twit, some spook : er something as like, as what god Makes of his leftovers in the afternoon between jobs: but me young boss: HOSS:

What?, zooks, gain, what gain 'questionmark' nothing an adorable steeple could not Bring together as all us wonderful people together rise them, these middle fingers- -Pointing up UP UP, run with lacking, then, fuck, huh?, shut up, suited only to

Sslipped phrase, the bank account gets canceled & yr out on the streets with only Luck and Fucks to feed you. Wiring runoff, shattered, wrecked, fetid, but all of it So Human that nobody seems to mind: neither of those three words can understand

My theosophy, nor gainsay, I'm too cryptic: : fault fault, fault fault, thwartedness- -But still continuance, shorn but not straight dead. Lucky but suffering. What a bore, To get brought in by force, to the party, snatch a few lichen, press against petri dish

To make dialogue unheard of or no at the party what this is about, this sleight of hand, This emotional screening we seize up and clench our asshole to forget about, rot in it I Say, row those sewage tentacles, mandibles, new legs from the mess, new smack to

The veins, new shot, lessening as day and eyesight, NARCAMNARCAM. Ruin stake [valuesystem] bless me achoo gradient risen sceptic collide me w truth,

Ruin stake dress me up in my garters and delirious falbalas at table, valuesystem,

Run to the ruin: make stand up puppetry the rotary: vast tracts of time enable the- -Child to believe he is infinite. Child god goes wishing-wishing at peak, wishing To see: you flee from definition like that stoner guy from earlier all the time, you

You let the questions mysteries bleed out thru yr fanciful cufflinks: drat: quaint: Wanna bleed staid blood. Want to create the hurt that must hurt, that must come: Just to have some control, as elusive blood, got to pour lopsided from a precious

Wound : : we gaze into ourselves and do not speak, wondering what batty thing Happened back there: we go wishing to dash away performance with a little more Laze: 5-year-old Genius. But yea. But, with you I shuffle into someone free. You

You see the curtain and you know the pianist is behind it nodding off into overdose: You are knowing what curtains mean and that curtains rarely help to cover meanings: You realize there is nothing to peek at nothing to see so you shrug and go home to

Your death, ever-approaching some more-appropriate redness , , , but the redness in The West , tho. What's with that haze that looks like the hoarsest GLARE of all: It is the shot in the arm taken too breezy, brought you to the finale, the glimpse then

Recession into embedding blank blankets of so-and-so upon your life, weighty big Deaths greeting you with comfort, delicious sating of the lorn, and raggedy willful Bravery so long perceived like an animal, that is, now seen so much to salute. So I

Have access now into your maze : it is dangerous here : bees go grinding against the Gut. Entrails that trail haphazard underneath everything forever : the flighty frolic Of your hair, sister : good on you for nvr doing hoarse/horse. Your hair that speaks

In looks looks like the bigger maze, the bigger harder hug to give one day when just , When things get better: just so one don't get bitter, what from examining all sides of The same pipe dream. DeMand, and makes thus bigger dissonance w. me. Say me,

Of your aspect, at base, nothing less, your talent is my name and sister-curse, my uh My name is one to have in spades, you gotta have it so it radically disappears under A veil mentioned elsewhere in full wherein the chase is always and never the point

As your legs, extremities exist by the disappearance of a prior location, or some Name, some name called death we get into other ideas 'bout. But it is a lost name. Bu I cannot bless more than I bleed. Whatever that means. Perhaps I tell

This to others, they do not offer but stares and blinking : oh alienation : what an Easily dismissible thing : REAL PROBLEMS hah : in that case, those girls Kidnapped in Nigeria're having real problems : suffering is subjective & hell

We, as In I, Race Towards It as anything the wiser, wise as answer, jus cast answer, Jus cast ANSWER:- whatever happen to be, jus quake out a few inappropriate Inabilities in front of anyway, including meshing: hear aspersions there, here

And there: I say, if one feels pathos then uh you know the whitest lash fuck express it, fuck!, don’t you painful on your brow loose the snow came, bother with a perfect shape as the clad in crammed houses families shape you have is naturally a very frown at homies, themselves children, improvisation, imperfect as a sky made random and the same as all storm, asleep flakes or something, like, one sky, just made like me to feel like an actor one. i guess, uh. that is what i make like to me guess. that nothing happens if we within the thin walls, while bruised dads glimpse the hood are indifferent or something. give in rochester, barely guap to eat, to obsession, passion etc. then uh my father runs into a grand jizz what follows’s a thing the greater on the way back captures it and puts it in a safe . for therapy. write on for therapy? his father was a vato, well fuck yes. do it and do it and gift-wrapping raining down do it. i like channeling whitman , , on christmas, wanting to capture fame and getting the pink slip . cuz it’a means wealth, like, iduno it was majestic, slowly he i guess like, [vulgate,vulgate] it drowned in throat cancer, later. my dads hates is freewheeling all over the place christmas, but at least he caught a good fuck in childhood and without regards -blank- see yu kno, i cant write on tumblr atm bc something is wrong with my uhhhhhh

keyboard. it doesn’t allow me to , , delete the space between one anddd another line. so i am writing this

to you. it’s probably not really i guess to interesting just see that infinitesimal cube understood so , ,

uh, distantly, as me here, in this room, hanging out with whitman! as in i see ‘im, right here. he is in

the corner smiling to himself bout some private meditation, mostttttt likely. have you figured out this

is a msg in enjambments yet?, you are really cool and ring out , , , , , , despite, right?, whether or not or

maybe regardless. PART II : : : : ERHEM: fast sadness folds in a toilet like down it you know like those soothing squares, gulls take to the particles after response to command goes lagging, and the aqueduct explodes filter to filter after longing for more than garbage could recall, prideful trash–

garbage i done made myself blind blabhah i done made a bad hither, done dash right into the fount of degrading. i feel very such things as i feel and call them detritus still. i am monstrous i am - big eye, i can fuck myself without any charity-help from anybody.

i am to call myself things like topaz once the giddy girth sloshes within a pictureframe's modest dimensions, and the sharks while snapping snapped alive by the implied sort of movement given only to starkly imperishable images that lighten you up at the art

show. well its time t-to start from the start and start a movement founded on a ginger ignorance of other movements. is i-t: is time to start from the beginning of focus way past bemused glance, ripe glare, teeth beside themselves w cavities of roe and garlic:

it’s time to inaccurately anticipate something, like we knew it was coming and wanted our surprise to look nice. anticipate the perfect slur, find a wide audience for that: it is, uh, time to enact maelstrom considerably, like, lofted above the saddest cloud's

drenching of itself: clouds they are clowns : be sure to recognize the hidden voice, what rattles us is not the mystery of how and logical wherefore but in transmuting some odd warfare of a distant crud's finding, that is - - - it is not what links but what is explained,

which for me is the distance crud, or clod, i call planet : am i a part of it or do i depart from its frequent accusings, importances, rudeness, and flat commodity, material, or just shattered booms hailing the demise of precept got so infrequent that one, less

righteous, is more thru the confessional of the lessness, a lesson : us, , rule, , : the sea like an antelope’s stride is, that is, like the picture purely between man, shark, and sea, of slopping sides over the frames of the picture: something by movement not volume,

by not expanse but a few flits of eye - big eye, - regardless of bigness it is, is and will be there for when the ranting stays, crucial delectable bizarre 'mischance of machinery' while the self goes further out, taken by the turning tides, and then yet this is a bit more

than mangling the heart by placing it on sleeve; this will always be here, distant, or like, remote!, yeh, better word!, you will disassociate whatever

from whatever, [edittttttttttt ttt ] from your blinding clarity [edit] : : you will take an eye out for the bossman cannot : since

wills black as char make the crud, clod, dusty clod, a piece of crud: "shouldn't be so hard to have a nice day." Mutter and grimace. wake up to totally remove yourself in the only way possible, that is, from the world of dreamstate: and piss dole me a new

self of yuck and maelstrom. PART III : : drying the die out of to play craps . or somethings like pinochle of life itself, shouted madman. made anterior who wants the soul who wants it made outside of use I see. something— / something digs for a very hinting it goes like something as must to stop,

as much to save the world as self by saving declamatoriations [!!!!!] declarations yeas, declaiming . / well go ahead and rue the ensuing bratty corps of lifer’s whom stake much on image / nada -rtiet- [edit] editwrite made something is^^^ within that words

them words something letters inverted salamander-language seen spanking new by breaking every rule, ruling over breaks like you had more time. / discovering the body, etc. and it all makes you want to imprint on the wise world some attmept, to do more

by removal of sense if sense is not snuffed out already by now in this senseless world, just going on and on!!!! to the creakiest hints shuffling under floorboards like captives from the bad!! quite the soul search. make more inklings, don't harry yourself, I say,

to discover a bunch of cool shit, also, uh, master it. master thinking in language. maybe i always never did nitpick and nitpick only yeup that is me I knit together the nits the nits are scratchiness, a scratchiness. then I think about how nice honesty is as re the slow

deliverance or rather sparing of us all by the most high / as by and by,, we grope for some bigger socket to launch a sensitivity of me I we errybody into, and me and ha and ha. ALERT. cannot diverge ALERT ALERT ALERT!!! Whoop show./Whopp whoop

whoop, can’t but take it down I wsiwiwsh i wish i was blind, i wish the rails weren’t so sharky : : so bloome [!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] 5$%uh September 13, 2014. Leave a comment Edit POME34 there is language to report, a monster essence. hammer away

and believe till the growth gets funnier and then throw it away handsomely / feel it run like sand thurr rthru your thru thru you[edit]hrought your fineger.s ample tome, im ean time, to write, requite certain disposable nothings like a big random power/ mind goes

and glowers at itself again. ah you kno. broken triangle. anything broken becomes an angle or many. a ziggidy line or somesuch. / so break a whole, rift it to life as some ziggidy line. some sorta line that breathes with uncaring for anything like information

but retaineing formless form as if your occupation was with something else/ let relax the

strands in you ankel, let the angel fall my dear / dont deny it / yur a good person, dammit. all the se facile blunders. all this. these stupid years of making. in the making,

or just making, about too. etc. greqat. great magnificent quiet [edit] is that which i search for and make and build into the most complex geometric shape for good / only to rift it and - - make what people would holy-fy even more bettr than the more better it was /

bby oh how you go on concealing pleanty of plaintiveness. am i nice ?? so what if you are. youre a stara special star . . . yr starved, strande line you ssay you are a bulk of issues you say you dance like a man made

of things .. light as wing . dwindle. wind. light as wind. so much so much to destroy sitll. my eyes need more blurs t[edit] to in order make everything wrong rightwise. foreget aspbergers. or any label / speak pretty

mane’s ruffling sinousity in wind. / a bloke with flow / gnarly [edit] speak charlie stude the sirfur, charlie stud is he who rides the wave, rides wthe wave in /by just meeting

wit ha hello and a hahaha at ripe ombustive ripe combustiveness at / a large offense

#writing #poetry

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magical-agatha · 6 years ago

Text

i need to go to sleep but before i do i just wanna say a thing before i forget it.

i wish i could remember who it was that gave me the chance to realise who i am. a lot of other trans folk talk about having a role model who inspired them. but i dont remember having one of those. which kind of sucks. closest i had was like.. the mtf threads on 4chans lgbt board. and they basically traumatised me lol and instilled a tonne of internalised transphobia i still struggle with.

i have a lot of memory problems. so maybe i had a role model but i just forgot.

i dont even remember when or why i picked the name agatha. i dont really remember coming out. just that i was 16 at the time and my mother forced me back into the closet until i was 21/22.

at some point between 2012 and 2014 i started exploring my identity as a woman. at some point i picked the name agatha, and started making accounts with that name. but i cant remember that. i can only make inferences from the facts i have and the fragments of memories i have.

my memory is incredibly damaged. i only remember small fragments, and none of those have time attached. but i know certain things (which might be incorrect but close to the truth), such as that i was 16 when i came out to my mother as trans. i dont remember coming out. i just have the fact that i did it at 16 written down in my head. i remember one moment associated with that, which was my ignorant and transphobic psychologist when i was 16(?) telling me i wasnt transgender because she had conflated transgender with intersex. she also told me i was too young to know or to make that decision. she said i would regret it. that it was just a phase. but here i am still trans and still a woman despite what she said. i just had to live through the hell of T poisoning and suffer for 7 years being forced to present as male.

if id been allowed to transition when i first came out id be so much happier. i would be so much less dysphoric too. if id had a family that supported me and had helped me or a doctor who wasnt misinformed or gatekeeping i would be in my 7th or 8th year of hrt right now.

i just started to dissociate a bit so i need to stop thinking about this stuff.

i want to remember why i picked the name agatha. its my name but where did it come from.. was i always agatha? i cant remember anything before 2018 very well. even my memories of this year are super foggy. i barely remember anything.

#hashtag blogging with aggy

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nyanphobic-moving · 6 years ago

Note

i dont go on anon, but i’m doing the ask meme thing: sometimes i worry about if you two forgot a lot of things from before you didn’t have access to social media for a year, and it makes me kind of sad to think that, because then you’d barely remember stuff like how we became friends

i-ill be real i dont remember. then again i barely remember anything ever. im sorry, my memories super foggy from trauma and stuff. hide has a better memory than i do though

#nyan post #i miss remembering shit #o3ds

0 notes

artificialqueens · 8 years ago

Text

party chapter twelve - shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - here’s another pathetic apology. it’s been over a month. i am a mess and a ball of stress, and i’m very sorry. i hope you like this<3

btw, a man is mentioned in this. this man is not intended to be chad. i know who chad is. this is not chad. thank u

When Alaska woke up, the bed was empty. She could’ve lain there forever – would have if she hadn’t been alone – but her outstretched arms were grasping at nothing but cold pillows, and she wanted to be grasping at a warm body. She knew she’d fallen asleep encompassed in a warm body, one that was composed of familiar geometric shapes and sharp angles, but that body was gone now. Alaska blinked a few times and sat up, feeling groggy. She could hear voices. One sounded clear and high and female, the other low and rough and male. Part of her wanted to listen, but the other part begged her to lie back once more.

So she did, sinking back down into the pillow and closing her eyes as she listened to the voices grow louder and closer in proximity. The voices should have been instantly recognisable to her; she’d heard those two exact voices arguing and laughing many mornings when they were on tour, but fatigue made her mind foggy. All she could think about was the previous night.

Sharon had said that Alaska ‘didn’t deserve the bad publicity’ that was synonymous with her name. She’d said a lot of things, but that one stuck in her mind. It wasn’t like Alaska didn’t get bad publicity anyway, but she understood where Sharon was coming from. It was only recently that Alaska’s general public view had shifted from liked and loved to loved or hated, whereas Sharon had been a figure of strong controversy and adoration since her win, way back when. It must have been exhausting for her.

Almost absent-mindedly, Alaska reached for her phone to break the cardinal rule of reality TV superstardom. She was guilty of it, almost everyone she knew was guilty of it at some point, and even though it brought nothing but strife it was still an unshakeable urge. To know, to read, to acknowledge.

Anonymous: i know right… she used to be really sweet but then she let all the “fan favourite” fame get to her head and she’s a total snake now. I never understood why everyone loved her anyway, she was so fake on her season. And on as2 she clearly just wanted to keep detox and Roxxxy in the competition, and then she had a meltdown because she was about to be treated the way she treated everyone else. So then what does she do when everyone’s commenting snakes about her and her relevance is crashing down (because who cares about her when you could care about Katya)? She pulls out her last trick and does a show with sharon needles. Sad, really. Sad how she pretends they’re still super good friends and uses her to boost her fame and ego when she needs it. Besides the fact that sharon is a complete dick (look on reddit) it’s obvious that alaska only performs with her because it makes people excited and sharon seems to really like her… gross. Dont use another queen for your own good. Anyone else agree?

197 likes. 445 comments. 3 shares.

Honestly, that was mostly standard. Tons of people thought she was a snake for caring about her friends, and viciously defended Katya – the same Katya who would call her at midnight, giggling because a fly had landed on her baby hands and she’d managed to capture a few seconds of it on snapchat. Those were the deluded kind, and their words about being a snake or undeserving were ones she’d grown used to, and unaffected by.

Even so, the comment riled her up. She hated when fans assumed things about her life that they wouldn’t know. For one, she was friends with Katya. Secondly, how dare they assume she was just using Sharon? How dare they claim disgusting falsehoods from behind their keyboards, hidden warriors declaring that Alaska was using Sharon for her own benefit? They didn’t know that Alaska’s heart had been beating differently since they’d kissed, and how would they? They didn’t know Alaska had been falling hard for the past few months, and Sharon had fallen too, and how would they? They didn’t know that the overdose had shattered a gaping hole in her heart that bled with the worry that it would be too late for their love to survive, and how would they? How could they assume something so blatantly wrong? They knew nothing. Nothing at all.

“-irresponsible. But you already know, so I won’t keep going on. Morning, Lasky.”

Alaska sat up, forcing a smile onto her face to counteract the inevitable anger that came from reading comments about herself and the people she cared about. Michelle looked beautiful as always, her face creased with motherly concern, and Sharon’s pyjama top was undone all the way down, Alaska’s eyes instantly drawn to the sliver of exposed chest.

“I’m being lectured again about being irresponsible and taking drugs. It was an accident! But whatever.” Sharon informed her, and resumed her argument with Michelle.

The woman in question frowned. “How do you accidentally do drugs? You don’t just fall face-first into a pile of powders, Sharon.”

Sharon snorted. “No, you fall purse-first. I didn’t mean that it was an accident that I did coke. That was very much intentional.”

Even through the years of her sobriety, Alaska knew exactly what Sharon meant. It was never an accident. After so long, she still hadn’t forgotten. She never would. Memories like that just didn’t go away. It was seared into her mind forever, the way that the club lights would get brighter and the pounding of the music in her chest would spread to her head, her arms and fingertips, all through her body until she felt nothing and everything at the same time. The way she felt numb yet hyper-sensitive, seeing everything in vivid technicolour that made her ache in a painful but good way.

“She means how much she took.” Alaska said quietly. The memories flashing through her mind were scattered, frayed at the edges and missing chunks, and it made her feel sick. “It’s so stupidly easy to overdose, Michelle. You have no idea.”

Immediately, Sharon’s gaze lowered to her feet. The older queen knew exactly what Alaska was remembering, knew she was reflecting on their old club days.

“You just… you have a little and it’s fun, it feels good, it lowers your inhibitions, and then it wears off after like ten minutes. Ten minutes, that’s it. So you go get more, because you can’t feel it anymore and you want to feel it again. And then you keep doing it, because it lasts a little longer each time and you lose a little more sense every time but it still wears off. You forget that it builds up in your system and… and…”

Alaska couldn’t finish. The image of Sharon, with her dilated pupils and her quivering hands, leaning over the mattress to vomit on the carpet before falling back onto the bed, it was far too raw. Far too real. No matter what happened, no matter how she recovered or how many jokes would be made about it, that moment would never leave her. It had chilled her to the bone.

“You take too much. You overdose. You nearly die and ruin the tour and Christmas and any chance you had at redeeming your fucked-up reputation.” Sharon finished bitterly. “You worry your friends, you worry your mom, you worry anyone who bothered to care for you. It’s so easy, Michelle. It shouldn’t be, but it is.”

Michelle’s brow creased further, warmth and concern evident in her eyes. “Thank god you’re okay now. Why did you in the first place? I know you’re… partial to your illegal substances.”

Sharon bit her plumped lip and fidgeted. “Well, there is the fact that I like it, but… I don’t know. Is there ever a reason? I wanted to go out and party after stressing about the tour and arguments and all of that, and I happen to be a Ru Girl. People will give you anything when you’re a Ru Girl. Of course I said no the way a drag queen does, which sounds like ‘Sure!’ and the rest is drag. History. Her-story. Whatever. I’m alive, at least.”

Her attempt at lightening the mood, tossing in a few jokes to elicit a laugh, didn’t really work. Alaska smiled weakly, mainly out of tact, her emotions mirrored in Michelle’s face. The older woman looked as if she might tear up and hug the life out of Sharon in an instant.

“Right. Is the next rehab session soon?”

Sharon cut in before Alaska could drop a spiel that would keep Michelle happy. “Yeah, but I’m not going.”

“Oh shit,” Alaska muttered under her breath as Michelle’s face went from concerned to angered.

“Let me talk, first. Don’t look at me like that,” Sharon murmured. “I’ll go every now and then, but it’s not necessary. I know why I did it and what led me to that environment – I’m a fucking drag queen. Do I get urges? Yes, but I have Alaska by my side 24/7 to guilt me into being a good girl. I don’t need their goddamn group therapy where John the divorced father of three kids and heroin addict tells us he used to work in a bank. I can make this change on my own.”

Michelle didn’t look convinced, but she nodded. “If you think so. I’m gonna call or visit regularly, to check in. In the meantime, I know you’ve updated your social media, but I think you should speak to your friends who spent Christmas fretting about you.”

Alaska winced, knowing that the worries of their friends was one of Sharon’s biggest guilt-trippers, guaranteed to cause her mood to change. She’d already learnt how to tiptoe delicate around things that could trigger mood swings, but Michelle hadn’t been around to notice.

“Don’t fucking remind me.” Sharon grunted, but Alaska noticed that she reached for her phone from her pocket as Michelle walked out of the house. Her own phone began to buzz as Sharon typed.

-BOTS Ladies ❤-

Sharon: i’m an asshole. Sorry i ruined the tour and xmas.. cunt wait to see you all again when im allowed to be around people again

Phi Phi: jesus i thought you’d never text us

Detox: BITCH!! We were terrified!!

Courtney: don’t ever do that again, shags. I cried when i found out u were ok. Even willam bellend did

Sharon: not really planning on doing it again..

Jinkx: get better soon

Alaska: am i not a person??

Sharon: ur an alien..

Fame: are u two hanging out rn?

Katya: because what u see isn’t always a person

Jinkx: alaska are you with Sharon omg?

Jinkx: michelle told me nothing after u got out of the ER and ICU

Sharon: boo

At the same time that Sharon looked down at Alaska in the bed, Alaska shot her a sheepish smile. Her mind raced, but she really had no idea how else to relax.

Sharon vocalized Alaska’s thoughts. “You just told our friends that we’re currently in the same place, which can literally only be my home.”

Thankfully, the only undertones in her voice were ones of amusement. Sharon collapsed onto the bed next to her, a wide grin spreading onto her face as she watched Alaska try and figure out a response.

“Uh… I guess I did. Oops.” She managed.

Sharon cracked up. “You’re so stupid!” She laughed, shifting under the covers to where Alaska was still sat up. She pushed Alaska so she was also lying down and held both of her hands. “I wanna kiss your idiot face. You mind?”

Alaska chuckled, freeing her hands so she could tug Sharon closer. “My idiot face wants to be kissed.”

In an instant, Alaska completely forgot that she’d slipped up to their friends, because Sharon’s lips were connected with hers. The older queen’s teeth bit into Alaska’s bottom lip, sucking it gently as her hands roamed in her short dark curls. Her touch was soft but insistent, wantonly asking for more whilst keeping the boundaries between them. Flush against her, Sharon was cold from walking around the house, and she curled her body into Alaska’s for warmth and closeness as their tongues entered each other’s mouths. After a few seconds they pulled apart, needing air, and pressed their sweating foreheads against one another. When Alaska opened her eyes, she saw thick dark lashes and bright blue eyes watching her, the tiniest of smiles accompanying their loving gaze.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She panted, breathless. She couldn’t control the smile that made its way onto her face as she took in Sharon’s expression.

Sharon smiled wider. “Looking at you like what?”

“Like you love me.”

The blonde kissed her again, languid and luxurious, as if she had all the time in the world. A quiet gasp escaped from Alaska’s lips, but she was in too much bliss to care.

“Because I do, pumpkin. Every moment I get to kiss you is every kiss I missed out on in four years of fucking up. That’s a lot of lost time to make up for.” Sharon breathed, her gaze never once leaving Alaska’s face. Her skin was flushed red, her lips slightly swollen from kissing, her hair mussed from Alaska’s hands – in short, she’d never looked so beautiful. Alaska’s heart beat faster at the sight of her.

“Four years is a lot of time to make up for.” Alaska repeated, arching her neck as Sharon began to plant kisses along the bottom of her jaw. “Four long years.”

Sharon started concentrating on a spot just underneath the curve of her jawline, sucking at the sensitive skin there. When she was done, she kissed the red mark she’d left.

“I can handle that.” Sharon took a moment to breathe and speak, before instantly getting back to work at Alaska’s jaw and neck. Her facial hair was growing through again, the short, dark stubble, and Alaska knew Sharon had a thing for it. Back when they had been together before, although she had never admitted it out loud, Alaska always noticed the slight increase in affection – mainly kisses on her jawline – when she had facial hair.

“We should do something today.” Sharon said suddenly, nipping at Alaska’s ear.

Alaska laughed at Sharon’s imitation of what she herself used to do when they originally dated. “Like what? Isn’t the next rehab session later today?”

A hint of teasing laced Alaska’s words. She knew there was no way in hell she was going to get Sharon to go another time – at least not in the same week. Just as she expected, Sharon let out a loud whine.

“It’s Thursday! We agreed that I wasn’t gonna go today, don’t make me go back to that suicide-inducing church. They’ll make me speak to the fucking priest, I’ll burst into flames. I mean something fun! Just us.” Sharon’s plea was almost childlike, her feverish touch and hungry lips making way for wide blue eyes and a hopeful expression.

Alaska hummed, deliberately dragging her decision out. “Hmm… all I remember is you saying you’d cook if I didn’t make you go… I don’t know, Noodles.”

“Please!” Sharon begged. “Come on, I never use proper manners. Indulge me.”

“I’m gonna need some more persuasion than that. Indulge me, what? I’m missing some manners there.” Alaska taunted further.

Sharon sighed. “Can you pass me my glasses? I can’t see a goddamn thing.”

Alaska bit back a comment about Sharon’s age, choosing the path to a quiet life. Shifting over, she reached for the table where the blonde’s glasses were sat and managed to hook them onto her finger, practically flinging them at Sharon’s face. Sharon wrinkled her nose, filling Alaska with the uncontrollable urge to kiss it, and put the glasses on.

“There we are.” She said, satisfied, and pulled herself up. She positioned her hands either side of Alaska’s head, moving so her body hovered over hers. Alaska was essentially pinned into place.

“You look prettier when I’m wearing glasses.” Sharon stated, lowering herself down.

Her lips kissed Alaska’s gently, teasing her. She knew the light touch wouldn’t be enough, and Alaska would crave more as she always did. When Alaska tried to lift her head to intensify the kiss, Sharon drew back ever so slightly, so the pressure stayed tantalisingly soft. The ball was in her court.

“Are you persuaded yet?” Sharon breathed, not giving Alaska the chance to respond before resuming her unbearably gentle kiss. Alaska found herself shaking her head.

“You’re not? Okay, what about this?”

Sharon withdrew suddenly, and Alaska moaned at the loss of her warmth above her. She waited desperately for something else, something more, allowing her to get her own way and enjoy her time with Sharon.

What she received instead was entirely unexpected; a pair of strong red hands scrabbling at her sides, her stomach, under her arms, tickling her. Alaska shrieked and flailed, uncontrollable laughter escaping from her as she writhed about. Sharon knew all of her weak spots – a four year relationship had ensured that – and she abused them all, delighting in the squeals of laughter she was causing and joining in with a few joyful chuckles of her own.

“FINE! FINE! FINE! WE CAN DO S-S-SOMETHING! YOU DON’T HA-HAVE TO GO!” Alaska giggled, practically yelling the words. “FREE ME! L-LET ME GO!”

Instantly upon her surrender, Sharon laughed and leaned down again to kiss her, this time properly. Her weight on top of Alaska – lighter due to her stay in hospital – was comforting, and when they pulled apart, Alaska grinned dumbly.

“Your glasses bumped my nose.” She complained, rubbing the little red mark they’d left. “Have you got any ideas of what you want to do today?”

Sharon smiled, pushing them up with her middle finger. “Your nose bumped my glasses. I actually don’t know. We could just see if there’s anything to do and make something out of the day.”

“I like that.”

Appearing in public with Sharon wasn’t new to Alaska, especially not when they were in drag. Appearing with public in Sharon out of drag happened a few times, generally during BOTS or with friends, never really alone. Appearing with Sharon out of drag, in public, in Pittsburgh, with the knowledge that there was some kind of relationship-but-not-relationship happening behind the scenes? Alaska didn’t really know how to act.

The city had practically become a hive for fans of strange, weird, underground drag to flock to, or just fans of Sharon, Alaska and the Haus of Haunt. The two didn’t dare to hold hands or come across as too affectionate, because they just never knew who was going to see them. Not all drag race fans were skinny white twinks obsessing over Jeffree Starr, and all it would take was a single sneaky picture from a fan of the two acting differently to spark even more online drama. Alaska wanted to avoid as much of the drama as possible, even if Sharon had already added to it,

Thankfully, their walk down the streets of Pittsburgh had been fairly uneventful. No one really gave them a second look, not caring or not knowing who they were. Alaska knew the city had a great sense of pride for the two of them, but in the daytime they weren’t really stars. The true reverence was at night, in full paint, under the sweltering lights of a club. As two fairly ordinary looking guys, minus a little bit of Botox, there was no point in staring. Unlike when they were in drag, there was really nothing to see.

“This feels so weird. We worked so hard to never be seen with each other.” Sharon mused. “I spent ages wanting to be with you and now it’s happened, it feels strange. Get what I mean?”

Alaska nodded. “Completely. I was just in denial, and now-”

“We’re here.” Sharon finished.

There was something symbolic about it, simply walking through the city. It was pleasant enough to walk around, enjoying the peace, but there was more to it. Every step felt like retracing an old memory – drunkenly stumbling down the road after a long show, kissing for the first time in the shelter of the bus stop when it rained, dates back when no one cared to learn their names. They’d come full circle, in a way. They were back where it had all started.

As they walked into the lesser-populated parts of the city, the amount of people thinned. The occasional group of kids skated past, but other than that, it was mostly empty. A few people walked past, but not enough for Alaska to feel too exposed. She slipped her hand into Sharon’s, smiling bashfully as Sharon gave hers a squeeze and didn’t object. For some reason, Alaska felt her heart swell. Sharon didn’t mind her showing a little bit of affection in public. Maybe things were changing.

Caught up in conversation, Alaska didn’t even notice the man walking in their direction until they collided, momentarily leaving Alaska dizzy. She opened her mouth, ready to apologise, and stopped when she saw Sharon’s expression.

The blonde looked shell-shocked, her lips parted slightly as she and the stranger stared each other down. Alaska tried to search for something familiar about him, but found nothing in his brown eyes, ruffled black hair, and lean build.

“Aaron. Good to see you.” He said, his voice expressionless.

Alaska frowned. Hardly anyone called Sharon Aaron. In fact, Alaska had only heard Michelle call her Aaron once, and that was in the hospital after just over half a decade of knowing her. Even Alaska herself usually called her Sharon. It was strange hearing her referred to as Aaron.

“You too, Mark.” Sharon replied, her voice even. Mark turned to Alaska, and Sharon quickly filled her in. “Alaska, this is Mark… my ex-fiancé. Mark, you know Alaska.”

Mark pursed his lips, his eyes cold. His gaze fell onto their entwined fingers. “I do know Alaska. You’ve reunited?”

Sharon coughed. “Let’s not do this, Mark. I really don’t want to do this.”

A sense of protectiveness welled up inside Alaska. Sharon’s voice was quiet, totally unlike herself. She seemed stripped of her confidence, something Alaska had been trying her best to preserve and build up since the overdose.

“Funny, I recognise those words from the night you told me I wasn’t good enough. He’ll get cold feet and leave you, the way he left me.”

Mark directed the last part towards Alaska, who glared at him. How dare he?

“You know it wasn’t like that.” Sharon sighed. “Things weren’t working. I was unhappy.”

Involuntarily, her grip on Alaska’s hand tightened. Alaska had had enough.

“Back the fuck up, Mark. It’s not your place to tell Sharon what makes her happy or criticise her for pursuing her own happiness. The last thing she needs right now is you stressing her out by being an asshole.” She spat.

Mark narrowed his eyes. “Oh? You care about her wellbeing? Again, funny how we broke up, you started talking again and then she took an overdose. I’m not saying it was intentional, but I’m saying that she’s always been good at lying.”

“That’s not true!” Sharon insisted, fiercely defending Alaska more than herself. “Don’t listen to him. Come on, let’s just get out of here.”

Mark scowled. “You’re good at brainwashing people, Aaron. I never knew you could do it to the same person twice. Thank god I got free from it.”

Without another word, Mark continued walking down the street, and Alaska tugged Sharon along, desperate to distract her from what had just happened. Sharon had told her back in the hotel room months ago that she’d had a fiancé she couldn’t bring herself to marry. No doubt Alaska had been mentioned, judging by Mark’s hostility towards the pair. Alaska recalled Sharon admitting that she couldn’t bring herself to say she loved him.

“Sharon?”

“Yeah?”

Alaska hesitated, but pushed on. “I love you.”

There was a long pause. Oh, shit, Alaska thought. I’ve gone and fucked it up now. This was going to be the part when Sharon couldn’t say it back, was just enjoying their hands-free, no stress thing they had going on. Perhaps Alaska had it twisted. But no, she was overreacting. Or was she? Sharon didn’t love her. But she did! She’d spent so long saying so. What if things had changed? Alaska was freaking out. The silence dragged on for what feel like hours, each second that ticked past stabbing into Alaska like a knife.

“I love you too.” Sharon responded. “I like saying that as long as I’m saying it to you.”

Alaska pulled the shorter queen into a whirlwind kiss, wrapping her arms around her and tilting her face upwards before letting her go and smiling.

“Shall we just go home? I can call a cab if you’re gonna find it hard to walk all the way back.”

Sharon brought Alaska’s hand to her lips and kissed it. “Whatever you want. I need to start thinking about you more.” Alaska’s insides felt warm, but something wasn’t right. A gust of cold wind on the back of her neck, a mosaic out of place in a beautiful picture. Everything was perfect but something just didn’t feel right. A feeling of foreboding began to encroach.

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