#no i wont kill myself but im so incredibly tired

[likeadog]

making a copy of this bc op disabled reblogs and i just got reminded it existed and would like to not lose it

ok so . im outing myself to the world but thats fine this is too funny to not share

so. ive run a roleplay blog for a few years. i keep it separate from my main, yknow, its just a side hobby and ive been doing it since i was like, 12. its cringe but hey yknow at least im not 30 and writing ya novels

now its pretty common for rp blogs these days to have rules. right? you dont want to just bag any weirdo on this website, and as you can imagine bnha roleplayers are batshit crazy (see: conversion therapy todoroki) so mine are pretty strict and detailed. because ive been doing it long enough to be exposed to what counts as carbon monoxide poison from a screen. one of those rules is "if youre mutuals with people who write porn of the kids even aged up im blocking you we're keeping a ten foot pole on this". because as a 20 year old man i have a healthy disinterest in seeing paragraphs of teenagers fucking

so the dash is astir with talk of a guy writing age up bakugou porn and im like ok whatever. make a post bitching about it . mutual likes those posts but then the mutual is turning around and being buddy buddy with this guy so i dm the mutual like hey whats going on here . mutual is like "well why dont you talk it out with him hes not as mean as he seems i prommy" and im like sure whatever i can have civil conversation and if it ends with One Less Person writing weirdo porn then i might be able to get into heaven

so i dm him and he loses his fucking mind. it lasted all of 10 minutes because he was sending paragraphs like this and i was too tired to give a shit

(take note of my icon thats a special tool thatll help us later)

(also he goes by the name rxgelord. WITH the x. thats also important just because its funny as fuck)

so the guys clearly bothered by the idea that people might possibly talk about him without his permission and im a little miffed after being misgendered (which hed do again later) so i just post our dms. swing first and hey batter batter lets play ball i dont give a shit this is bnha roleplay

once again: loses his damn mind. he makes a psa post about me talking about how im just some pussy infant and hes too HARD for me and shit and also they do bakudeku muffin roleplay in the comments of that post which is fucking insane

anyway. at one point while joking about the whole thing i called him a "wannabe bakugou kinnie" as a joke and apparently he felt a very serious need to address this

and im like holllllllllllllly fucking shit

you may have noticed that his posts are incredibly over-formatted. this goes for everything he does he is pouring a LOT of time and energy into typing his 9 paragraphs about how im an insane bitch or whatever. (if theres literally one thing i can give him credit on its that his graphic editing skills are kinda good. i will be honest) his rules document is also just as insane and features gems such as:

(this dude thinks hes pulling bitches on a bnha roleplay blog)

so we're just full on ragging on him at this point and hes getting MADDDDDDD MAD. he misgenders me again and when i point it out he has the following excuse:

(art by @/pcktknife. anyways)

after a certain point i get dmd an old copy of a 130+ page callout he had a year prior and im like WHAT and it included his yugioh rp blog career and various allegations like having been involved in gang violence, doxxing, etc. also a picture of the hickies he bragged about leaving on his uwu pink glitter gf which looked more like he was trying to go for the killing bite but hey. yknow. apparently im a toddler idk how that works

along in this we also find his twitch account, which was under the name rxgelord, and it featured edited graphics of his real life face with bakugou. he posts selfies a lot too i wont share them even if theyre public but he has knuckle tats and a goatee and uses the greyscale filter. if this gives you an idea. he also had 5 twitch followers and detailed his desire to be a rapper/dj and im like holllllly fucking shit this guy cant be a real person. holy fuck.

anyways. skipping a lot of unnecessary bullshit and paragraphs of text with gifs from 2013 attached hes constantly going on about how we wont just "say it to his face" which i think is hilarious bc i was, the entire time. but im like ok fine you want me so bad

so i send him this. he posts about how "he won when he got all might" (for some reason hes calling my ex mutual by the character name. i dont know) and then hasnt posted in 4 days. he deleted his twitch. im a little worried bakugou. dont say that. may have actually chased this man off the internet . to go have real life sex with his real life girlfriend so he isnt so mad

anyway we ended up turning one of his posts into an eminem uberduck

im honestly probably forgetting something this was so much and it was so fucking funny and honestly im glad to have been there

update: he has not in fact posted since last summer. god bless.

[fuck-customers]

two things:

- i have just called out for the second time ever because of my anxiety making me incredibly sick, knowing im probably going to get a talking to about it on sunday morning

and

- im genuinely tired of the passive aggressive bullshit in the area i work in by people who are almost triple my age. like my god, i made one teensy mistake. please dont yell at me or act like youre annoyed at me for it, its genuinely the thing killing my anxiety AND my stomach as a whole because i genuinely beat myself up over those tiny mistakes for days and weeks and months thinking that if i could do this thing differently, it wont happen again. but i do it again. i cry so hard because of it.

[earlymorningdevil]

im struggling so hard right now, i feel like im living a loop of stress and anxiety and sleepless nights.

im so tired of being alive and having to get up and go to work and trying to sleep on time, eat on time, be awake on time.

i really wish i could just take an extended break, just let myself exist as a person rather than working myself to death, because im reverting to 15yr old me - nauseously depressed with little care for myself and a roaring anger that follows my every move.

im punching walls after simple incidents, dropping a plate and resisting the urge to immediately off myself. slicing my wrists open with more frequency in the past two months than in the past two years.

and im too afraid to say anything. i never really got “better”, just learned to hide my flaws better, created a false sense of honesty for myself to build a facade of being better. but im probably worse. worse off now than before because at least then i had someone to tell. now all ive got is strangers on the internet telling me not kill myself - something im actively trying to avoid doing anyway. i dont want to kill myself over some fickle mishap. ive built an idea of a life i could live if i can just survive long enough to get to it.

not that my brain agrees, more than happy to plan my death on the daily. one little thing builds up, one little thing on another, every day, every week, every month, every year until it all crushes me under that one little thing.

im tired.

im so incredibly tired. i want to lay on the beach and soak in the sun. i want to lay in the grass with my dog and watch movies with my brothers. i want to go to college and follow my interests, explore the world and learn new languages.

i want to live - i want to be alive, free to want things and chase them without the imminent fear that one day that want wont be enough and ill dig my own grave without any warning.

how do i do it ? how do i get past this and live ?

hopefully ill live long enough to learn. if i do, ill tell you. one day, maybe.

[jerkz]

day 1 of not killing myself

april 14th

i will keep this journal for one month. at least

i think he's a fucking bastard. i'm just angry and upset and tired of this happening to me. i really thought it was my turn to like. be happy? for once?

he's lost all credibility to me but i still wish he'd call. i want to know he's doing alright. i don't think picking up the phone will set a good precedent. so i wont. etc. i just miss my friend. i feel so incredibly lonely. i dont know if he was "the one" (i dont believe in such a thing regardless) but i think we could have been really good together. he ended it so badly that i know im better in the long run. these just feel like mantras to repeat now - i'm better off, i don't need him, lost all respect for him, what's for me won't pass me by. i wish things were different. i wish he didn't bullshit about coming to perth. i wish he had a conversation with me.

i quit smoking pot. let's see if i can go a whole month. maybe a whole while. dirty habit. maybe it's time i broke it. the eveninsg are dragging on now. i forgot that part of it. the evenings just go on and on.

my wrists ache. i want to slash them.

every song i write sounds pretty shit. will i actually even write this EP? or is it doomed to die in fantasyland, like all of my other half baked ideas?

[deaughh]

:/

I feel like I’m at my wit’s end.

I’m trying incredibly hard to “get back into the rhythm” of things. I keep telling myself “i just need to get organized” have a schedule and I’ll be okay. I can’t do it.

I have no work life balance.

I quit my main job at the lab and am close to quitting my other lab position. Even with work out of the way, I feel like I’m being consumed by my schoolwork. (I dont even want to start thinking about how I’m going to make ends meet).

A fucking endless cycle of assignments that wont go away. The canvas notifications are starting to drive me insane. I get paralysis and cannot for the life of me complete simple assignments. And when I do miss them or small points it kills me a little inside since I’m a perfectionist (bullshit, I’m a fucken mess). I’m just tired of my one class because of all busy work and I cannot focus on my other more demanding class (ochem2).

My brain is trying so hard to conserve energy and stop me from what it thinks is a waste of time. I feel so exhausted all the time because of it.

I’m most likely overthinking but I’m just so sleep deprived I can barely function. My GI issues started up again too, woo! So that’s always fun to add to the mix.

I get sick, my stomach cannot hold down food, i eat very little. I have no appetite but i have to eat something. I wake up in the middle of the night with hunger pains and refuse to eat because I want to go back to sleep but can’t because of the pain.

I probably get 4 hours of sleep a night. I’ve been dying to have 6-7. i usually manage 5, if im lucky 6hrs, but it’s never full sleep. I always wake up in the middle.

I’ve stopped smoking to clear my head a bit but it’s not enough. I feel like a fucking nervous chihuahua. I feel like a leaf, shaking and about to fall off a tree. I hate feeling like this. This isnt me.

I hate what all of this does to me. I feel horrible. I dont wash my hair. My eye bags are as big as my eyes. There’s nothing I want more than to heal my body and feel better but I cannot take care of myself. I want to exercise but I have to stay in and do assignments. fml.

I don’t want my mental or physical health to get worse but I really feel like I’m slipping. I’m trying so hard, but it feels like I’m barely doing one thing a day. I feel insane.

But ya. It just feels like an endless cycle of trying to catch up.

My menthal health affects my physical and vice versa. I get mentally ill, i become physically ill as a response and it just makes me feel mentally worse and it spirals. Awesomesauce!

[blackvail22]

10/4/23

11:51pm - im living a lie. im not honest to my doctors about how im feeling. i tell half of the truth, but i never tell them i think about death. im not going to do it, or at least i dont have a plan or anything. im just not happy. i think the only thing that will make me happy if loving to a different city/state/country... somewhere that my mom wont follow. how im living is so incredibly boring. i want to move already. im tired of feeling this way! im tired of it

im tired of my mom not truly taking accountability for what she says to me. she says its hard for her to deal with how i have a cold tone sometimes, and i told her its hard for me to deal with her saying she'll help me kill myself. she says its fine because she didnt mean it, and she didnt tell me it out of nowhere. ??????

girl, i know that its not all ur fault, but DAMN a huge part is

u say i cant be irritated, but u can be irritated with me

im so tired of talking about my mom. im sosososo tirdd of it. im tired of all of this. i am, i really am

[lucaswarmhotchocolate]

I dont think I'm 'mature for my age', in the sense that I feel like I'm better than other 16 year olds or more capable of doing 'adult' things, or anything like that. But I do think I'm mature for my age in the sense that I am so incredibly old, and tired, and yet still naive and generally unaware of most things an actual adult is aware of.

I have 16 years of life experience, just barely, and I spent a few years of it maturing rapidly and impressively. I learned to cook when I was quite young to feed me and my little brother, and I was being taken advantage of, used as a servant, almost, by my father. I have an emotionally immature mother who manipulates me the best she can, and then tells me I'm manipulating her the second I shed a tear or whine or complain or try to tell her about something she doesnt want to hear. And she is trying to be better, and to a degree she is succeeding, though I think, personally, it's too little too late.

My therapist cried a few times listening to me talk about my childhood, but she's gotten used to it now and she's very helpful, and she knows I'm mature and immature at the same time and I appreciate that more than she will ever know. But I dont think most people get it.

I have some level of emotional awareness that is beyond the scope of my classmates, but it doesnt prevent me from feeling things that I know are illogical. I know I'm not a failure as a human being for failing my classes, and I know I'm not entirely stupid, even if I am an idiot sometimes. I know these things, and I know more, and I try to help myself but I am still vulnerable, and weak and squishy and soft like any 16 year old is.

And though I have these same illogical thoughts as many other 16 year olds, I cant seem to connect with anyone. Everyone seems to have worries so incredibly different from mine.

Everyone is either relatively normal, unharmed, suffering from recently divorced parents or pressure to get into a good college or weird drama in their cute little cliques, or still in a state of being abused or neglected or starving and it's a bit odd. I refuse to be dragged into some melodramatic gossip that, quite honestly, wouldn't even interest me if it were in a tv show. And I refuse to get attached to someone who will make me worse and suffer and expect me to fix them or otherwise suffer with them. I cant do either of those things, though I suppose the latter is incredibly uncommon in my area.

So, here i am, mature for my age and unable to make appropriate friends or go longer than 3 months without imploding and thinking of dying, or discovering some new horrible memory from my childhood, and yet still being so incredibly immature and childish.

I'm not a kid, or an adult, and you would think that would make me just a regular teenager, but I dont feel like one in any sense other than technicalities.

And this post is filled with childish nonsense, you can see me being judgey, and I come off a bit annoyingly I think. A bit "I'm not like other girls," but I can assure you I would love to be like other girls, I would love to have stupid things to worry about, low stakes adventures. I used to be able to do that, to find a few other traumatized kids and hang out and hop fences and read in the dugout and yell and laugh but something in me changed and I cant anymore.

Anyways, this is just a very long way to say, "hey I might panic everytime I think of what to do after high school, and i might be a shameful relative to have, but at least I dont smoke."

[stoner-shark-boy]

what about bob with a hippie stoner reader?

LISTEN ive had this in my inbox for a while because i wANTED to be high while i wrote it but i kept forgetting 😭 anyway as a stoner myself i LOVE this idea

Bob x Stoner Reader

~ Bob was a smoker but then he quit. He didn’t smoke weed tho he smoked actual cigarettes. Your the first time he smoked weed

~Probably a paranoid high. He’s lookin around while goin “Punkin, they’re all lookin at me….. all the people i’ve killed…. THEY WONT GO AWAY GETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEAD-“

~Please take care of him he canNOT control himself.

~If you distract Bob from his paranoia, he’s actually pretty chill. He definitely moves a LOT slower and has a slower reaction time.

~Bob’s also incredibly honest when he’s high, ask him anything and he will answer you in extreme detail.

~LOVES to wake and bake with you, best part of his day

~Bob loves a good ol' joint, you gotta teach him how to use bongs and pipes :/

~Can't roll lolz

~Bob loves it when you inhale, kiss him, and then release the smoke into his mouth mid-kiss he thinks its so hot (i THINK its called shotgunning but im not sure)

~If Bob's high enough, he'll get tired and force you to cuddle him to sleep. Oh your not tired at all?? Too bad it's bed time.

[saturnsstufff]

please can we get some angsty techno please? like the voices are acting up and you’re just kinda comforting him after an accident idm - also ur series is incredible and one of my favourites already!!!!!! very talented yes thank you

One agnsty techno comin right up!! And thank you hon!! I accidentally went off side ways in the first draft, so I will post that separate mostly because I think it went away from agnsty.

Warnings: none that I can think of

This is seprate from my "The Empress" series as well!

It was a colder night in the tundra, steve was well asleep curled up by the fire. Him and techo having played 'fetch' hours ago to tire him out. You could tell techno wasnt feeling well, not so much physically, but mentally somthing was weighing down on him.

The walls, and floor boards of the usal warm cottage were now ice to your hand due to the low temperatures that have crossed unannounced. Techno had retired to a bath about a hour ago, explaining of his rather pounding headace. Your heart weighed heavy for your lover. You knew he perfered to keep his problems to himself as to not worry you. But you worried about him regardless. You knew enough to not to pressure him into telling you what was wrong, but you also wanted to know how to help him. He was a strong man, but even the strong need to admit when they need assistance.

Your light pitter patter of your bare feet was herd as you went up the stairs. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, showing techno laying in the bath, his long hair draped out of the tub well his head rested back. A cloth was placed on his head, you assumed for his headace. His proflie was one to be envious of, he looked just like the painting of a god.

When you had nudged the door open slightly more his tender voice responced, the voice that he only used on you. "Sorry to keep you waiting princess... i'll be out momentarily..." You walked closer and set a stool by the side of the tub. Gently placing a cup full of tea with honey on it.

"Dont hurry yourself... I know your not feeling ok" you said gently. Carefully you took the cloth off his head. Kneeling down so your head was becide his. "Please my love" you breifly paused your tone ever so gentle and loving. "Tell me whats wrong... I want to help you..." His eyes fallowed you breifly, they were filled with swirling emotions, ranging from love, sadness and admiration. Your lips brushed his cheek. Placing gentle kisses up to his forhead well your hands gently cupped his face. Rubbing his cheek bones well you peppered kisses.

"S'nothing to worry about" he said slowly. His eyes looking up at you. The water was long cooled off now. He only sat in the tub for the light feeling of floating. But now that he could look up at you, he longed to stay just to see you like this.

"You say that ever time, im not a fool" Your eyes gazed down into his. In this moment knew he should tell you. But he was also hesatant, what would you say? What if you decided to leave him?

"Its the voices..." He muttered. Looking up to you, he didnt look menacing. He looked defeated.

"What about them troubles you?" He could have melted under your touch, you were so gentle with him. Yet he knew deep down he was a blood thirsty monster. He let out a shakey sigh, you knew it bother him deeply now.

"They wont quiet down... They want blood, volience, skulls... princess, I dont want to kill. I want to settle down. I like life with you and steve. I want a family. I.." His tone was pained and his eyes shown his sadness "I'm a person.. and their.. their painting me a monster" He took a deep breath. Forcing his tears back. You felt horrible. You knew he wasnt a monster. You saw beyond that, you knew he was a kind soul, but you weren't sure how to convince him. "I.. I want a family.. but what if.. what if I kill it.. what if its scared of me?.." You could only rub his cheek. Looking down into his soft saddened eyes, you shown you were listening intently.

"Technoblade.. your not a monster... If you want a family, I would love to give you one. I know you wouldn't harm them... And they would love you endlessly. Just as I do" His hand came up and ran his finger over your cheek ever so delicately. Amost as if you were glass.

"Princess if I hurt my kin, I wouldn't forgive myself... but Phil has told me of what im like when angered... what if I-" You pressed a finger to his lips gently.

"I know you techno, you wouldn't let anything hurt your family. Your worry on it speaks volumes. Yes, the voices demand blood. I can't tell you thats ok because I don't live with them.. But, I promise I'll stay with you until they ease on you. I wont leave your side" You reassured him with a soft tone.

"...Could you join me?" He asked quietly, you were comfort to him. He just wanted to burrow his head into your neck and listen to your heart. He knew the voices wouldn't stop anytime soon. But with you next to him he knew he could lessen them. You always calmed his blood thirst.

You nodded and stood, taking your sleep attire off. Letting them fall next to his pile. Well you stepped in the tub he watched you. Wrapping his arms around you firmly when you laied on him. The warmth from his body was A warm welcome to you, To him your presence was so comforting. He wordlessly nuzzled into your neck. Keeping you close, almost afraid you would leave instantly. "Thank you princess..." he muttered into your neck.

"Anything for you my love... anything."

[lovefromabullet]

Im torn between lying to people and being honest. With honesty comes a double sided coin. Its a 50/50 chance of people being understanding and me having a shoulder to cry on or me being carted forcibly to a padded room. Which if we are being honest may not be the worst thing in the world. Ive been told so many times over that people are worried about me. And good they probably should be because hell Im worried about me. Im trying to do the right thing and get better but I dont think that I want to. Thats so much fucking work Im tired of hearing you got this your strong. But god damn even strong things have a breaking point and Fuck Im done man. One is not simply made strong. Strong comes from struggle from trauma from life and fuck life just keeps on hurling them bullshits right at me. I cant keep dodging man,I am not even running on fumes anymore that tank is empty.I havent had a solid free day in weeks. 3 kids will kick your ass so hard. Ive had to figure all of that out with my own shit and to say that i am drowning is an understatement. Im not sleeping and noone seems to be taking me seriously when i say its not for lack of tryind and literally exhausting all of my other resources to try. Melatonin, tylenol pm, increased psych meds, dr gave me a sleep med, pot, sex, anxiety meds... hell even fucking yoga and meditation. I cant sleep and even if I fall asleep its shitty sleep or doesnt last nearly long enough... Ive been honest about that. Like hey Ive literally yelled from the rooftops I cant sleep. Im not doing good. I told my drs my therapists all of this. that my depression is worsening they called it grief. I said yeah well Im pretty sure this is the same thing that killed my person so how about we try and help me fix this before you have to give your condolences to my family.But no matter how much I begged or plead or truthed myself out its like it fell on deaf ears... So I went with lying. Or at least half truths the no Im not great but thats to be expected because as long as i keep doing the right things then noone worries... Ive never believed more than I do now that human beings on a mass scale are fucking trash. Not all of them but here lately its been a majority rules. I also learned how incredibly lonely that I am. And that I promise I am not as important to my friends as they WERE to me. I told my therapist that I gave it honestly 5 days before people started to even worry. She said no that cant be. Til I tested it. One of my best friends Didnt notice for almost 3 weeks that I had unfriended her and disappeared. 2 weeks 5 days to be exact... And this was my ride or die since i was 15 like we spoke everyday... and it took her 2 weeks 5 days. to miss me. Let me tell you about getting kicked in the dick by life... Hell some people that claimed to be friends havent checked in in over a month....  so when i say i believe whole heartedly that i wont be missed and that my deaths impact in peoples lives would be minimal.. i mean it

[blurays]

.

if i could be sure id die then i really would kill myself lol

with my luck though i'd survive and it'd just ruin my life a bit more

im really tired no one cares about what i go through anymore im tired of feeling like i have so bad but feeling like its not bad enough for anyone to really care lol

i was like doctors are ruining my life n my mom rolls her eyes and says its only six weeks like yeah its six weeks of nothing but pain and depression and isolation so on and then it still hurts and the next thing starts

no one gets or cares how sad i am lmao i wouldnt wanna deal w sad bitter unpleasant glass bones paper skin terminally ill girl either probably so i cant blame anyone but here we are. i am living for literally no other reason than that i am Supposed To

ppl claim they care but everyone has their own problems. and lies when they say they understand or empathize w mine. and the couple people who do care abt me my mentally ill brain wont let me process it and i feel vaguely bad for them and they live like several thousand miles away. and theres always the distant thought that theyll probably hate me eventually too

everything feels rlly insurmountable lmao every time i have a little bit of hope things just get worse. and again no one even cares like. sorry that my slow death and near constamt physical misery that makes me wanna fully give up seems to really inconvenience everyone else

also really fucking mad abt the fact that if anyone should be in the experimental no sling is better than keeping u immobilized for 6 weeks category it should be me someone who doesnt do sports shit and is incredibly young for a replacement but doctors suck lmao im going to try at my next appointment but i rly might just be like u can put me into physical therapy rn or dont but im not ruining my own quality of life so that u can be lazy and prescribe everyone the same type of recovery 

[a-method-in-it]

Trans(masculine) former Potterhead here! I still own the books, were a gift, a hardcover set from my mom from years ago. I even made a parody of Im a Lumberjack and I'm OK from Monty Python as I'm a Hufflepuff and I'm OK and helped found a Dumbledore's Army club at my High School I loved HP so much, I was obsessed, but now I have so many mixed emotions about the franchise I don't really know what to do.

I cannot speak for trans women, but as a queer trans person, if I see someone reading the books or watching the movies or wearing merch its like. Ok. I know I might get along with this person, they like the same stuff I (used to) like....BUT do they know how the werewolf thing is about AIDS, implying gay people are out of control monsters, and how the only villain with werewolfism specifically targets minors, implying pedophilia is a trait inherent in gay people? Do they know that when a trans woman reads the books they worry they wont be "woman enough" to keep the stairs in the girls dorm from turning into a slide, because they know that the author specifically thinks they don't deserve to sleep in the girl's dorm because of their gentials? Do they understand that JK Rowling's opinions are there, insidiously rooting into young minds? Are they reading this critically? Or do they support what JK is saying? Do they know all of these things and not care about it, dismiss it out of hand?

Does this person want me dead?

It boils down to a Feeling of Unease. Is this person safe for me to be around? There is a Very Real Danger that the person in the Ravenclaw Shirt and Golden Snitch Earrings is going to call the police on a trans woman going to the bathroom, or beat her, or even kill her, because the author of their favorite series has convinced them trans women are men in dresses and that men in women's bathrooms are dangerous. That person could also be a nice genuine nerd, queer themselves, even potentially a friend, but now I am Suspicious of that person. I am suspicious of anyone who openly enjoys it (unless they are children, kids don't know better, or if they have a tattoo, idk how old that tat is). They want to read it at home and want a discussion on new themes and how to make it better/less gross? Fine by me.

But if someone is publicaly supportting her, staying extremely active in the fandom defending the books or movies or JK herself, having and wearing merch which could direct new people (probably kids! Who will get Obsessed! And don't know better!) into buying things from her and giving her money? After all that she's done? After she literally helped create legislation against being trans?? Not cool.

The series is just simply tainted for a lot of trans folk like me. I still hold it dear foe what it did for me as a child, and I know if I read the series again I would still love it, but I would also HATE myself for enjoying it, knowing that the person who wrote this, the bit of her soul which she has given me, wants me dead. Wants my friends dead.

So I'm not really saying if you support HP publicaly people will see you as a TERF but I am also absolutely saying that people will see you as a TERF if you publicaly support the HP franchise. Death of the author is well and good when the author is dead and/or their estate doesn't get any money for new books or merch purchased, but she is alive and actively trying to kill trans folks, so literally anything that could be seen as support of her, or get others to support her even accidentally, can make trans folk uncomfortable and feel unsafe.

Hope this helped? I know I'm not the original asker, this is just my two cents.

Hi there! Thank you for posting this lengthy and very thoughtful response (and I hope you don’t mind my answering publicly -- if so, let me know and I’ll delete). There is one (admittedly very long) thing I’d like to say in response, but if you’re not looking for that, just know that I really value hearing your perspective and you can feel free to skip all of this and carry on your way. 

---

You say that you would probably enjoy the books if you reread them, but would hate yourself for doing so -- and I just want to say that what you like does not make you a bad person or act as any valid basis for deserving hate, from yourself or anyone else. 

Like, for instance, I’m a person who cannot stand horror movies and I am genuinely confused that anyone would enjoy watching terrible things happen to people for 90+ minutes. But I would never say that people who like horror movies are bad people just because they do enjoy that. The same goes for violent video games -- I don’t like them, but I don’t think the people who do are bad.

Because what media you personally enjoy has really no bearing on whether you are a good person. Being a good person is about how you treat others, whether you are kind, whether you are patient, whether you are understanding, whether you help people when you can and show up for the people in your life when they need you. It has nothing to do with whether you like a particular book or movie or videogame. 

So if you do want to reread those books because you think they would bring you joy, I hope that you do. 

Long before she became a TERF -- (and for the record, I don’t think that she was actively and consciously transphobic at the time when she was writing the books, for the simple reason that most of the people who are TERFs today weren’t at that point) -- I had already gotten used to tuning out Rowling and her fondness for Word of God pronouncements. 

Like, Dumbledore being gay actually fit into the canon very well, but others? They just felt tired and not thought-out and her whole short history of American magic was incredibly lazy. The werewolfism=AIDS thing was offensive in very real ways--and also it should be noted just does not make sense as a metaphor. Not just because AIDS will kill you and being a werewolf will not and there’s no way to bridge that fundamental disconnect -- but also because the way people talk about being a werewolf in the damn books doesn’t resemble at all the way people talk about AIDS patients in real life. Which makes me think she didn’t actually mean for it to be a metaphor when she wrote it and then years later threw it out there because it sounded good to her in the moment because she hadn’t thought it through.

By the time we got to wizards shitting on the floor because she very clearly forgot that she had already had chamber pots referenced in the text, I was long-since tapped out. 

Which is all just to say that it is beyond fair for you to use being a fan of Harry Potter as a data point in gauging your safety as a trans person -- but if we’re talking just about you enjoying the books?

Well, in that case, fuck Rowling and her weird post-canon comments that half the time don’t even make sense. If she wanted trans girls to not be allowed up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory, she should have put it in the damn text. As far as I’m concerned, trans girls and trans boys are allowed up whichever staircase matches their sense of themselves (and, I like to think, nonbinary kids get the run of the whole tower). 

In fact, as far as I’m concerned, she lost the right to have me care what she says about the Harry Potter universe when all of her comments started being unbearably lazy, asinine, and/or nonsensical. If she’d been half this uninspired and careless when writing the actual books, I would have stopped reading them. 

This has been a very long reply on that single point, but I want to end by saying that the point is, even if I accepted the premise that liking the Harry Potter books is in and of itself wrong -- and I hope I’ve made something of a case that it’s not -- it still shouldn’t be something you hate yourself over. Short of actually murdering people, I’m not sure there’s anything that’s grounds to outright hate yourself, honestly, but liking a book is definitely not on the list. 

Either way, you seem like a lovely person, one who is very thoughtful and has been very patient and generous with your time in writing all of that out. I hope that you find ways to also be a little more patient and generous with yourself -- about Harry Potter or any other topic -- because you deserve that and you do not deserve to be hated by anyone, least of all yourself. And I also hope you have a good rest of your night. 

[figuringouthowtobehere]

please dont reblog this

i dont have many ppl to talk to. so here i am, screaming into the void that is my tumblr again.

im mostly posting this because im alone. im really really fucking alone. and im hoping i might, idfk, make a solid, trustable connection from tumblr??? idfk. im alone in the world.

please dont reblog this

cw family issues, su*cidality, abandonment, abuse, childhood abuse, trauma, being alone in the world

i have no one to go to. my entire life since i was a baby all ive ever been able to do is survive at the skin of my teeth. and here i am, 20, breathing, trying so fucking hard to live and, idk if im succeeding. im doing my film shit which is cool but. im alone. im on my own. im alone in the world. i never had parents. like, obviously i had parents, but they were never parents, dyou know what i mean? like the people who genetically made me were around but they were abusing me or just being awful or refusing to listen to me about what i needed from them, from their parenthood. 

i had a conversation with my mom yesterday (after two days of not being able to get a hold of her and really really needing to) and i was basically just like ‘why cant you be my mom’ and she was like ‘i am your mom’ and i was like ‘well, yeah, but youre not--you cant--you dont mother me. and you dont mother me in the ways i need you to.’ and she was like ‘what does that look like to you?’ and i said ‘someone who i can turn to, always, someone who has my back no matter what, someone who respects me and what i need and who listens to me and trusts my experience and, yeah, someone who i can turn to always’ and she said ‘i mean i can talk with you on the phone, i can tell you what i think you should do, i can try to give you advice from my experience, but as far as someone having your back 24/7 always, i cant do that’ and we ended up talking about how im an adult now - and she was talking about it in the sense of ‘youre a grown man now, you dont need your mom like that anymore’ - and im like ‘ya, i am basically a grown man but i still need my mom. i still need parents.’ and i think im gonna end up cutting contact with her again because its too hard to simultaneously grieve her not being the mom i need and also talk to her. if im not talking to her then i can deal with the idea that i dont have a mother, that i dont have parents and i probably never will.

ive never really had people. i never really had friends when i was a child and i dont really have friends now. maybe its cause im trans, maybe its cause im autistic, maybe its cause im mixed, i dont know, but generally people in the world dont like me or it takes them a long time to not hate me. it doesnt matter why right now the point is i never had people (like, a support system) and i dont now. 

so yeah im pretty seriously thinking about killing myself (or, trying to anyway). i dont wanna die but ive spent my whole life trying to just. be a person. and find contentment. and everything in my life ends up going awful or causing me a lot of trouble at some point or another. ive come to expect it. whenever anything happens in my life im just like ‘when will this go wrong. how long will it take this time.’ and im alone. im just fucking on my own. and i know theres lots of people who are and have been more alone than i am/have been and i admire these people so fucking much like GO YOU!! YOUFUCKING DID IT!!! HELL YEAH! im so proud of u. for real, i have so much respect for all yall reading this who have made it through shit and made it through being alone in the world. you fucking got this. youre doing it. good fucking job!!!!! ✨ but then. idk ig it doesnt take away from this being incredibly fucking difficult for me. pretty much everything in my life was fucked from birth to age 18 and now over half of everything in my life is fucked. which is better, for sure, but its still. ive never had a chance. idk it just seems to me like it doesnt matter. i can try and try and do all the therapies and take all the psych meds a psychiatrist might give me and i can meditate all the time. it just seems like im Doomed. (WOW i sound dumb and childish) like ik logically this is probably incorrect, that im not actually just.. doomed but thats how it feels. whenever a good thing happens im just waiting for it to collapse on me. and usually it does in way or another. generally not because of anything ive done or havent done, it just ends up being shit.

and then. ive never had anyone. i dont have anyone. im alone in the world. like its not that im ignoring people i do have or choosing to omit them from my mind right now. i have a singular friend in the place where i live; my other two friends both live in the states. i live with someone who was a support for me until like last ... july or so, i think, who now makes me feel like shit (they arent being malicious its just a bunch of issues in our relationship. theres more on that in stuff ive posted before, if you feel like digging through my posts for a while go ahead and youll find more on that) and i have like 5% (out of 100%) trust for them. i have a therapist who i see once a week and ik shes invested in me, but thats her job. and i cant just call her whenever i want. i have several people for film stuff but theyre either just casual pals and then colleagues or just colleagues. i know a lot of people, who dont really show any investment in me as a person or their relationship with me and who i dont really click well with. and thats it. 

and im so. im so in love with Film. all of it. (not The Film Industry obviously.) im so fucking in love with it. the only real concrete reason that i wont end up killing myself in the next like month or two is because Film. and i just. need. people. i need parents. or something. fuck.

i think part of this is probably the long-term ramifications of ongoing childhood sexual, physical, and psychological abuse and never really having good, consistent support cause id be surprised if that didnt fuck with my brain (and, yk, untreated severe childhood brain damage from tbis beginning at less than a year old). but it doesnt really matter does it. ive been through the shit time and again and its not like anyone has appeared and been like ‘hello, i see you never had parents, this is who i am, would you like to get to know each other for a while and maybe i could be your mom?’ cause thats literally what i need. i need parents. like i know theres a thing of ‘if you didnt have parents then you cant undo that damage’ but like idk. if someone has a bunch of unhealed broken bones that got broken years ago that are now causing them a lot of pain you wouldnt just be like ‘sorry, i see youre in trouble from this shit, but because it happened years ago theres nothing we can do’ cause there is??? i forget how i was gonna say this before but like. i didnt have parents. with the ‘parents’ i had its a scientific anomaly i lived past age three. i refuse to believe that having Good Parents and a Good Support System now would do nothing for me. cause it would. 

im also facing impending homelessness due to a) welfare/disability programs not giving you enough to live off and b) not having a roommate/not having support systems/not having people. so that doesnt help.

i dont know how to do this. im on my own. im doing all i can. ive reached out to everyone i feel like i could reach out to and. im on my own.

help. i guess. idk what that means but im, once again, at an incredibly fucking AWFUL point in my life and i need help. i doubt anyone will be able to but. if youre able to then. idk. do something. ik that i sound desperate and pitiful and i literally dont care at all because i literally am desperate for support and i literally am at - ANOTHER - extremely low point in my life and its pitiful. im cringing at myself actually posting this because its like ‘you think youre actually find what you need via a tumblr post? where are you? cause thats not real life dude’ but i dont fucking have people to talk to (as you have already understood 🙃) and im tired and tired and tired and tired.

if you took the time to read this i thank you and i hope ur day is going vvv well

please dont reblog this!!

[wyrddog]

if you want to know what my sister is like, read below

tw; transphobia, emotional abuse, borderline torture? lying, manipulation, gaslighting, rape mention, she’s just an all around trash person. i also call her a bitch a lot.

she does not care. she just thinks shes entitled that all that i have because she’s never been taught to fucking respect me. whenever i confront her about anything she brings up that she was raped as if i have some shit to do with it (which she thinks everyone around her has some shit to do with it) she’s so fucking manipulative and makes me believe shes changed and i can trust her and then i ask her as nicely as i can for her not to use my shit and she fucking explodes. it’s fucking ridiculous. she’s such a fucking abusive ass bitch. and she gets off so much on pissing me off too. she knows i hate when the tv is on and that i can hear it so clearly through the floor boards whereas when shes upstairs i cant hear anything so-- why dont you go upstairs? because you want to piss me off. shes so fucking sadistic. she’s always been like this. she gets mad at me because i hold over her head that she LIED to me MANY times growing up and made me believe things that were not factual to reality. she never wants to own up to it, has never formally apologized or recognized that its necessary to and im pretty sure has even told me she doesn’t think she needs to all because of her “prefrontal cortex not being developed at that age blah blah blah” bitch i do not g i v e a f r e s h f u c k . if a baby accidently cut my hand off, fuck, i’m gonna be pissed at the baby. is it the babys fault? no, BUT THATS MY FUCKING HAND. GET IT? YOU FUCKING BITCH? THATS MY FUCKING BRAIN YOU DESTROYED YOU FUCKING BITCH. she has done things like lock me and my friend in a fucking cage in the basement and turned the lights off, she drowned a fucking squirrel once that was trapped in a possum trap, i’d go to her really trusting and happily to dress me up and do my make up and shit and she did things like paint me as a clown or dress me as a “nerd” and take pictures of me with. shes tied me up with a leash before, shes stolen things from me before, there was a time she came home tripping on acid and kept begging me like desperately to give her this fucking perfume and saying “please” and “its her favorite scent” and all this shit and when i said no she got so fucking pissed at me. whenever i accuse her of taking something from me she gets so FUCKING MAD and tries SO FUCKING HARD to switch it around on to me. i’m so fucking done with it. also, this is most definitely NOT the first time she’s done this, i found these emails while looking for something one day and to my surprise yeah its LITERALLY nothing new;

yeah maybe i shouldn’t have told her to die by snorting ketamine but tbh shes said worse shit and has told me to kill myself many times. she also seems to think me being trans is effecting her and other people so much but tbh i think its just effecting her bc her ass wont stop fucking thinking about me, she’s fucking obsessed and i’m so fucking tired about it. 

this is fucking with my mental health so much. i was doing SO much better before i decided to move in with her. she really had me convinced that we could leave neutrally together and not fight but not. she is just so accustomed to using me as a punching bag and doesn’t feel any urgent need to change at all about it. i dont know if she’ll ever feel regret about it. i dont even know if she feels regret for the way she treats me, im in fact positive she thinks i deserve everything she fucking does to me. she makes me feel so insecure about just *being* and existing as myself. shes always shamed me for liking whatever i like, and if i like something she likes she tries to take entire credit over it and praises herself for getting me into it. i’m never a person in her eyes. i’m like a fucking npc to her basically. anything i do thats original is weird to her and anything she likes she says she got me into. i’m literally nothing outside her narration of me essentially. her abuse has effected me my entire life and has destroyed my ability to trust and socialize with other people.also her weird behavior about “owning” interests has fucked with my ability to socialize with people as well, because now i get defensive about the things i identify with and try to claim it as my own and i feel like i cant id with things other people id with. which is so fucking stupid. logically, i know that, but emotional kid me doesn’t and that person has never been healed from my sisters fucking abuse. no one has come up to me an consoled me, there was never any clear yelling or punishment towards her as far as im aware of unless they do it behind closed doors or some shit- this vile, compulsive lying, thieving, intolerant ass bitch has caused so much fucking chaos in my life and it took re living with her to finally fucking realize that again. i have even more receipts on facebook im sure but writing all of this is draining. i need to move out as soon as possible because living with her is making me incredibly suicidal.

[littlebitoffanfic]

Silent Confessions part 2

Fandom: Texas Chainsaw Massacre Characters: Bubba, Drayton Relationship: Bubba/reader Request: Would you write a part two for the silent confession where the reader gets found by drayton AN: http://littlebitoffanfic.tumblr.com/post/175620949144/silent-confession You woke with a loud clatter as a voice screamed in anger only a few feet in front of you. “Hes kept un! God-damn it, I’ll kill ‘im.” You sat bolt up right in your bed, your eyes immediately finding the source of the noise and your blood ran cold. Drayton. He was pacing the floor in front of you, his hands on his hips as he almost let off steam from his anger. You had seen him briefly through some holes in the walls when he had come into the basement to speak to Bubba so you knew what he looked like. When he saw you sit up, he froze. “God-damn it.” He cursed again. You had been caught. Nearly a year you had stayed hidden down here, but he had finally caught Bubba and you. But Bubba wasn’t here right now. He and Chop Top had had stuff to do, so he had left first thing. You had been tired so stayed in your bed until you were rudely awakened. “and he didn’t even tie her down!” he snarled as he saw your free wrists and ankles. “He doesn’t have to. I wont run.” You said in a soft voice, taking Dayton by surprise. He twisted to look at you. You knew you had to be incredibly carful right now. If you were able to say the right things and do the right things, you might be able to keep yourself alive as well as save Bubba from punishment. “Oh yeah? You wont run?” Drayton scolded at you, mimicking your voice a little. “No, I don’t want to.” You keep yourself calm, knowing that any hint of weakness might be a loophole for Drayton to exploited. “eh?” He stopped pacing to look back at you. “Ive been here for a while. If I wanted to run, I would have. But I don’t.” You explain a little more. “How did yah get here, then?” He was carful and kept a little distance between the two of you. You knew he didn’t do any of the killing, so probably wouldn’t do anything to you until the twins got back. So you had a little time to persuade him. you told him of how you had been kidnapped and held hostage. About how you didn’t have a family so the ransom they asked for was never paid. About how they beat you and then brought you out here to be killed. But Bubba had saved you. You were very carful to say that Bubba had been carful at first and had kept you in ropes, but you never ran so they became forgotten. During your tale, Drayton retreated away from your bed to sit on the chair in the corner, watching you carefully for any signs of deception. “So how long have you been down here?” He finally asks when he sensed your story was coming to a close. “About a year.” You knew it was dangerous and leaving it to chance about how he would react, but you couldn’t lie. “Are you insane or something?” Drayton shoots at you, but you could only laugh. “Maybe.” You shrug, a soft giggle falling from your lips. “You got any idea what we-“ he started to ask but you knew where he was going with the question. “That you kill people? Yeah, I know. Ive helped.” You smile proudly, catching Drayton off guard as he frowns and asks how. “Bubba showed me. Ive been skinning some of the people when they come down here.” “you… I wondered why it was lookin’ a lot cleaner.” Drayton sat back in his chair, his eyes trained on you. “Why’d yah stay?” “Because…” you trail off, dropping your eyes a little, asking yourself that question. But the answer was so obvious to you. “Because I wanted to.” there was a pause between you two as Drayton thought through everything he had just heard. “Well, Bubba wont be back for another hour. You best come up with me. Help with some stuff.” He stood up, his sudden offer making you smile and bounce out of your bed. You moved quickly to his side before following him up the stairs. He kept a very close eyes on you as he told you to start by cleaning up the blood left over from the night before. You got right to it, scrubbing at the blood on the main dinning table. You were able to lift it rather easily because it hadn’t completely dried into the woodwork. Next, he took you into the kitchen. “Are you going to make chilli?” You asked, right by his side. You knew the close proximity had him on edge but you needed him to trust you and maybe you could force that trust a little. Plus, it was nice being able to speak to someone and get a verbal response. You were glad it was Drayton who found you first, because it meant you had a good shot at getting on his good side, whereas Chop top and nubbins were completely crazy. “yeah, making a new batch.” He nods. “you sell it, don’t you?” You ask, excited that you might learn the receipt. Drayton nods as he turns on the hob and grabs a pan from the side. “You should enter those competitions, you know. The ones where you get judged. I saw a guy go on there once and his profit went through the roof when he won.” You told Drayton. for the next hour, you helped the eldest brother with the cooking. He was carful to keep knifes away from you but did tell you to do some peeling. “Do you mind if I make myself a cup of tea?” You ask, looking at the kettle. Drayton glances at you. He was about to nod when he realised that giving you boiling water might not be such a good idea, so he tells you to sit at the table and he’d make it. You were surprised by how well Drayton seemed to be taking this all. Maybe he was just hiding it but at least you might get to stay. Once he had made you a cup, he made himself one. Drayton sat at the opposite end of the table from you as you drank. He had left the chilli to stew for a while so you were sitting at the main dining room table. He asked you a few questions about your previous life and if there was anyone who might come looking for you, to which you laughed but answer no, nonetheless. Bubbas the first to return. You knew from the heavy footsteps when you recognised as his own. Sitting up straight in your chair, you looked at the door excitingly. you hadn’t seen him all day because he had had to leave before you were up properly. “Bubba!” Drayton called his name, making Bubbas footsteps stop. You thought you might be able to place them as heading for the basement first, to where he thought you were. But he then followed his brother voice. Drayton stood up and walked over to the stew, stirring it. When he entered the room, his eyes found you and he froze. You swear you could see fear in his eyes as he quickly made his way towards you. Bubba seemed not to have noticed that Drayton was in the room as he grabbed your hand, trying to drag you back to the basement. But you dug your heels into the ground and grabbed onto the table, stopping him to leading you anywhere. He gave a disgruntled growl as he tried again. “Aint no point in doing that, I already met the girl.” Drayton called over his shoulder before turning to look at his younger brother. Bubba had froze the second he had heard his brother speak. You looked over at Drayton who started to walk towards you both. Bubba hauled you from your chair and basically threw you behind him as he turned to Drayton, as if Drayton might forget you if he couldn’t see you. You couldn’t help but smile a little at this, but only for a moment. You leaned against his back, desperate for the contact you had lacked all day and also wanting to help his worry. “Damn it, I aint gonna do anything with her! Yer just lucky Ive been needing someone to help me.” Drayton chastised Bubba, batting the air in front of him before turning back to the chili which was bubbling a little. “But shes your responsibility. If she runs or trys to cause trouble, I aint-“ Drayton couldn’t finish his statement as Bubba frantically shook his head, silently promising Drayton that you wouldn’t run or cause trouble. “right then.” Drayton nods more to himself than you both. You stepped out from behind Bubba, running your hand up and down his arm to sooth him a little more as he kept a tight hold of your wrist. “Take her downstairs before the others get back. I’ll deal with them for now.” Bubba wasted no time in dragging you out of the kitchen and towards the basement. You couldn’t help but giggle a little until you realised he was genuinely scared he might lose you. Once in the safety of the basement, he turned to you, letting go of your wrist. You wasted no time in throwing your arms around him and pressing a kiss to his lips through his mask. his arms locked around you tightly and he held you against his chest. You could hear how his heart hammered in his chest. You felt slightly guilty for making him worry so, but it couldn’t be helped. Pulling back from the kiss, you decided to explain everything. “Im sorry. He came down here earlier and found me.” You told him, nodding to the area that lead to your bed. Bubba grunted, partly out of annoyance. He wanted to keep you safe and all to himself. Now he would have to share you with his brothers. He loved them and they were family, but he couldn’t help but feel a hint of fear. They weren’t the most careful people and always broke things. Even when he was little, they would break his toys or mess up his things. Bubba didn’t want that to happen to you. He just wanted to keep you down here and safe. you could see he was deep in thought as he gazed down at you. You reached up and slowly undid his mask, pulling it away from his face while he was thinking. “Bubba?” You called his name softly, drawing him out of his thoughts. His eyes focused on your own and softened. “At least there’s no more hiding or being scared about them finding out.” This was true, and even Bubba was relieved. He always had a heart attack when his brothers went into the basement. Only the day before, you had been straddling him in a hot and heavy make out session when Chop Top came bounding down the stairs, calling out for Bubba. He hated having to leave you after getting each other riled up. You heard the front door open and Chop Top and Nubbins came stumbling in, screaming at each other. Drayton’s heavy footsteps came running as he ordered them both into the kitchen. You knew what he would be talking about. Or who. Bubba had tensed up at the noises, listening closely even though it was impossible to hear what was being said. You took him by the hand and lead him into the back towards your little bedroom. He followed you in a dreamlike state. When inside, you pull him down to sit on your bed with you. his arms wrapped around you and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You looked up before retrieving a kiss from his lips. As normal, he sighed and let out a soft groan at the feeling before you moved to straddle his hips. You couldn’t stop whatever Drayton was saying to the others, but you could distract each other, if only for a little while.

[tobacconist]

i had some psychic conversations with the rats last night. not very pleasant ones.

i was laying on the sofa, drunk as hell trying to rest and not throw up (this was ~4am/5am). i was on a low vibrational plane, because of being absolutely wankered (which i think is what allowed me to enter into fairly direct communication with them) but i was still very conscious and aware. like when your body is so drunk but your mind is still essentially sober

it started when i heard them rustling around inside the walls/behind the sofa/etc and got pissed. i thought something along the lines of ‘you little bastards. so fucking rude’ and i heard a definite reaction from them. somewhat startled, i guess they didnt know i was there. i began to try and feel what they were thinking (animals dont think in language of course) i could sense their general presence (they have a presence of, like, a gang of sneaky scumbags. in part hostile towards me but also in part afraid of me) and i could tell that a large part of their focus was on me. i began to try and open dialog with them, ‘speaking’ mostly through emotion but also ‘saying’ my piece mentally. (i was silent and my eyes were closed throughout all of this. i was in a meditative state. to an outside observer it would appear i was sleeping) i was saying ‘you little bastards, being so bold and disrespectful. we are tired of you staying here; you are a nuisance, you cause a mess, you chew things. we tolerated you for a long time, but youve outstayed your welcome. you cannot stay here for much longer’ i could feel the whole time they were listening to me, and also i could sense some kind of discord or argument amongst themselves. i continued ‘just you wait till tuesday, you little bastards. we’ve got the rat man coming to assess the house, and you wont be here very long after that’ this, they took offence to. as soon as i said this, i heard a very loud rustling, and also squeals and yelps like they were fighting. seemed to come from inside the other sofa but my eyes were closed. this shocked me, and i realised then that they really were listening i softened my tone, and continued ‘if you were respectful, kept to yourselves, didnt steal from us, werent so dirty, didnt shit and piss everywhere and die inside the walls and cause a stink, if you didnt chew things (especially wires, you little cunts) we wouldnt even mind your presence! we tolerated you for a long time because you didnt bother us so much, but now you are getting bold and disrespectful. you cannot stay any longer’ i carried on for a long time, occasionally they would take offense to something i said and there would be another skirmish or skittering. i reminded them of the fact that i did save one of them once, from a mousetrap. (a cheap mousetrap which didnt kill it instantly but just left it choking until i saved it. god, i remember it screaming.) and that i had told my dog to leave them alone many times. i went on for a long time. telling them i knew they were just trying to live and get by, but that this was our house and that they were causing problems for them. they still did not seem happy. i could sense some anger towards me, sort of childish anger. put me in mind of a group of unruly criminal children sneering together at a teacher and plotting some scheme amongst themselves. i still carried on saying my piece, trying to get them to listen. this whole time, i was also trying to focus on the fact that i was incredibly drunk and likely to throw up at any moment. i was fighting back the urge to vomit using meditative techniques. i was thinking id jus lay where i was until i felt better then go to bed, and it was only by happenstance that i came into communion with the rats. eventually, i said something they really must not have liked because all of a sudden, i hear a rustling on the table next to where i was sleeping and suddenly feel something brush past my head.

immediately my trance was broken, i leapt up, brushing myself all over and patting myself down and shouting at the fucking bastarding little shites the fucking rude little pricks. i got the feeling that they thought this was funny. i was fuckin dizzy and bleary eyed and feeling just generally quite unwell (all my own doing of course) i resolved to go and have a bath and then go to bed, which i did. after gulping down a load of water and then spewing it up to try and clear my stomach and my head. it was acidic and burned my throat. actually i decided to make some eggs and toast first, because i felt a lot better after spewin my guts up and then bathing. weird that, how much better you feel after being sick. its nausea i hate, not knowing whether im going to be sick or not.  i dont even mind vomiting that much (damn knows i do it often enough) its the nausea i cant stand. when i went to bed it was around 6am. i had a few dreams, quite vivid ones, but i dont remember much. i remember my auntie denise singing ‘il etait un petit navire’ in perfectly fluent french, and i was amazed that she knew the song, and sang along with her as well as i could. and also something about walking my dog. i remember walking with him and having to suddenly put him on his lead because i saw someone in the distance.

understandably, i felt like absolute shit when i woke up today. i think it was like, 9 beers i had last night. thats fucking ridiculous. basically on an empty stomach as well. fuck, id dread to see the state of my liver. i really do have a problem. its ruining my health, its wasting all my money. tonight i am going to have 3, and no more. and only after ive eaten something atleast somewhat substantial.

the whole rat fiasco last night, really reminded me of that rat dream i had years ago, before we even had any rats in the house. i think ive written it up here before. i cant call it dejavu because the setting and vibe was too different, but the similarities were crazy. the psychic communication, the intermittent rustling, the rats suddenly coming out of their hiding place and scaring me.