#perhaps i'm thinking too deeply on this but i DO think religion has a place in this universe

[thebirdandhersong]

It's interesting to think about how the Problem might unite the different Christian denominations. I don't know if it would erase all the problems/conflicts/arguments on doctrine and so on and so forth, but I'd like to think that different churches would come together to help the larger community against this new supernatural threat. It would be interesting to see new collects for child agents in the Prayers of the People in Anglican liturgy, cross-denominational fundraisers for orphans and widows, new systems for adopting or taking in those who've lost parents/spouses/siblings/caretakers, church basements turned into shelters, the way priests might bless houses, how the exorcists might function within the agency frame, Catechism classes adapted for the young agents' schedules, adjustments and changes to prayer books, the added weight of mourning during Lent and Advent, what services during Holy Week and Hallowtide would look like...

[peargor]

Not quite sure if sent the message cause bad internet connection so i'll just paste the whole thing here again incase:

Hey peargor!(donno if you're still using tumblr bt whatever) Let me Congrats ya for your coming completion on Touhou project first (yay恭喜)

Here's the wandering dude from mainland china(typical netizen lol)and randomly clicked into ya website while visiting webrings & link collections.Lotta ideas jump through my head and letme say a few words below: BoTWR's really a good series from my perspective,like,Dispite having gaps when understanding the lore,i still can kinda understand the characters,from core to spirit(Cantonese's partly cognizable for mandarin viewers so it kinda fun when lookin' zoey swearing lol)I guess a variety of mainland audience would like it too.Like,it even inspired me to have a look back into the history and mess 'n hongkong on the "great firewall" and made me sorta think deeply about all these mess……but anyways,here's imaginary non medal stickers：

"Mandarin approved"and

"i concerned for la nation"(just kidding),

and i'll keep focusing on the series(actually the others' quite adorable too,sure it took me a while to realize that you actually deeply involve in internet meme culture,after the shock when i found you do made the pogchamp meme gosh)

Btw Just wondering,did the reading disorder cause you to use more english in written form stuff?

Looking forward for the upcoming new chapters yet a few more words:

1:LIT ' O TOMMIE DESERVES ＢＥＴＴＥＲ Yo

Poor tommy,hope he 'll get a chance to be a man

2:mmm how and what would zoey's dad be…… He's sorta a villain for now but i hope he's just a dude who failed to correct his own fault by force or "internal error"?

3:that color can be some exposure of one's emotion thing.yeah classic "into head" thingy but perhaps it means more deep than what it seems?Maybe Blue represents the sadness,niche thoughts,hopeless rational thinking,Yellow's cheerfully craziness,Red's cruelly dialectical greedin' justice,and BLACK's something unresist-able unless you learn some real floyd's philosophy thing?

You can get some new referencing idea from the old HK's TVB show like "大时代"(The Greed of a man),also some new from mainland that accidentally have more coverage report on hk which apple dailys' doesn't(?),Trust me,gotta be good for setting both character and lore

Whatever,Best wishes on not getting perished by cops!(pretty sure you won't be cause you probably haven't spoke something politically for at least 2 years on the public internet and you won't be caught for drawing "china virus girl?" and political comments too early haha)

PS:Try to get yourself a fan-base besides the old social meida the X,patron,like a mewe,discord group somethin' alike for a better place for talks 'n discussion i suppose?

Hi fellow netizen! I'm sure the mainland would like to read the comics but that really opens up a can of worms that I'm not prepared to deal with yet, so for now I'll refrain from translating the comics.

1: Tommy has the happiest life compared to the rest of the main cast I wouldn't worry too much about him lol

2: mm it's much more complicated, I also think my audience expects a political opinion from me. It ties to my own experiences with asian culture in general. I am very critical, but I think the public expectation to what I'm critical of is kinda skewed at the moment. There's so much nuance to this story I hope people have a healthy discussion over the conclusion of Zoey's arc in the future.

3: Yellow, Blue and Red are the key colours. What they represent is up to your own interpretation. To me yellow is the self/your values, blue is career/ambition, and red is religion/community/family. There's more colours down the road but these are the most important ones. If there's going to be discussions over the story please feel free to create those spaces! I haven't done so because I am the main writer and I would like these things to happen naturally in the future. It feels wrong for me to create a space as someone with complete authority over the story.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts on IWBTWR! Sorry it took so long to respond, I've been trying to find the words to convery my thoughts properly.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

THE CROWSHIPPING TALK HAS SUMMONED ME!!!

the question of how dust would worship death has been in my mind forever and i still haven't decided how to go with it. i understand reaper and grim are based on greek mythology, so maybe a practice resembling ancient greek worship rituals? there are also modern pagan practices for greek gods as well.

though, i do think of murder's creator being korean, so maybe there should be some cultural references to that? i'm not korean, but i believe that chrysanthemums are closely related to death and rebirth in some korean regions. in east asian cultures, marigolds are often used for funerals/shrines/tombstones because they take a long time to wither away. korea also has a lot of different belief systems/religions, so that might prove a bit tricky as well.

however, since murder is a monster living in the underground, his beliefs regarding death and religion are not the same as humans. monsters might have their own belief system (the prophecy is one). so it just turns into a mushy pile of "how the hell is murder going to perform rituals" to me lol

~ crowshipping anon

I suppose it can be a mixture of all three; monster influenced, Greek, and Korean. He can scatter the monster dust on the things that were important to them, and perhaps he leaves them some gold or coin for the equivalent of the ferryman, and and perhaps he can place marigolds and chrysanthemums near, on, or around their important item or otherwise on their dust.

I suppose it’s important to consider just how much time he will reasonably have to dedicate to Death, and how often, and what he could be willing to do that is small, less time and energy consuming, but no less important or valued. (Murder not realizing just so much and truly and deeply loved he is by Death 💕).

And of course, how much he will be able to get away with and hide in Bad Sanses AU, considering he is under the care and protection of basically something like a God of Negativity—at least in comparison to Murder himself.

Not only do we all know that Nightmare is possessive, it might just frankly be insulting or offensive to do worship other God(s) or Goddesses while in the service of another, involuntary or not. Murder likely wouldn’t know for sure, but insulting Nightmare even unknowingly could be dangerous.

Elaborate rituals don’t have to be a frequent thing, considering how Dust is in a little war with the human and will likely be very busy in Bad Sanses AUs—taking into account things like his mental health and physical health, just how much energy he’ll be able to offer and do reasonably on a regular or even non regular basis.

Even as something as sharing a meal with Death—or inviting one or both of them to join him with his meal—can be enough, and could possibly even encourage him to drink and eat more frequently if he is sharing with or offering to his Gods.

The worship and devotional acts doesn’t have to be entirely death or underworld or afterlife related—the simple, mundane things would likely be appreciated, especially if they’re done by Death’s priest(ess).

Even dedicating time to learning more about Death and Their mythology, Their lore, Their history—Them—can be an act of devotion. Any specific self care ritual could possibly be as well—such as washing with a specific scent.

This may actually even be a common worry for Murder. That he isn’t doing enough, worry that having to hide it can be taken as being ashamed or embarrassed, that he isn’t able to do something for Them on a daily basis. Either because of “work” and having to survive such a hostile environment, or simply because Dust is too exhausted to even get out of bed.

Perhaps this is something Death will often try to reassure Their Priest(ess) about frequently, reassuring him that even silent prayer is more than enough for Them—and They are not going to get mad at him, or leave him, or otherwise punish him. They are not Nightmare, and They understand that mortals have limits and lives they must attend to.

I can imagine that being able to perform one of the big rituals is pretty exciting for Murder though. Especially if it comes on the heels of having finally found freedom and enough stability and energy to do it with a bounce in his step and a bright smile on his face.

[innerteenager]

Oh my God, after many years of googling "am I autistic" every month I am realizing I am maybe/probably autistic. I mean, my friend who is a therapist, specializing in autism and ADHD, has told me she thinks I'm autistic for years. I guess this is also a common thing autistic people do. But, here are some revelations from today:

- I love learning about culture, cultural trends, sociology, psychology, and the history of religion. This could be a special interest, according to my friend, these kinds of interests are more common with femmes.

- also, obviously obsessed with my little blorbos, which is why I have this Tumblr

- I have worn the same bra for about two years. And I've bought the same one over and over for like 15 years.

- Having to pick out clothes stresses me out, I tend to wear the same outfits every week

- I do eat the same foods over and over

- clutter stresses me out

- recently, the sound of a single cricket at night in a quiet place stresses me out

- descriptions of autistic burnout accurately describe my experience. Boo! Change, having to do a ton of logistical stuff and socializing short circuits my brain. If it goes on too long I stop talking, dissociate and have trouble formulating something to say. I feel like a snow globe that's been shaken up. 

- the list of ways to recover from autistic burnout is literally exactly what I do every day. After work, I lay in bed and stare at the ceiling or scroll on my phone for several hours.I have to be alone. I stop emoting for other people. Making art and music feels restorative. A lot of online lists specifically talked about taking baths, showering, listening to audiobooks and going for a walk. Everything I like to do in my spare time seems to be listed. ☠️

- I feel emotions through making art, playing music and listening to music

- i'm constantly monitoring how other people might be perceiving me

- I really hate opening letters without a letter opener, the sound of tearing paper or tearing cardboard

- Talking to multiple people on dating sites short circuits my brain when it comes to actually scheduling a date

- i'm extremely overstimulated in stores like Costco

- nothing feels better than riding the high of a good fanfic

- I guess I like heavy things on me and using fidget toys

- an interesting article I read states that autistic people respond to other people's "fear chemicals" with calm, and respond to other people's "calm chemicals" with fear. I'm extremely anxious. I've found it mysterious that I become extremely focused and caring when I encounter other people having panic attacks or feeling overwhelming emotions (I work in a helping profession). Perhaps this is part of the reason why.

- sigh - I feel deeply lonely and long to be loved by someone who understands my mind and loves me for it. I feel like this will solve all my problems.

[danosrosegarden]

if you feel comfortable could you do something nsfw for eli sunday? („• ᴗ •„) with a reader who rejects religion but at the same time wants Eli (I just want Eli to be a chaotic bunch desperate for attention) (; ω ; )

Lamb of the Lord - Eli Sunday x GN!Reader (NSFW)

Contains: sacrilege content, praise/degradation kink mixture, oral (reader receiving), switchy Eli.

Note: Oh, how I have been waiting for an excuse to write Eli smut. Thank you, darling anon.

The man sitting beside you in the pew truly could've been from heaven. He had plump, carnation pink cheeks like a youth-flushed angel and a bright, glossy aura which surrounded his figure. It looked like bleeding beams of sunshine. It smelled like hints of hope.

Father Eli Sunday had been called upon by your parents; they were sick of your rebellion. The devil coursed through your veins like boiling blood. The screeching of sin rang in your ears like the tinny buzz of a fly. You lived for the fast, the fun...whatever felt good. They thought you were wicked to your core, your blood cells coated with a putrid, gray grit. Perhaps you truly were beyond saving...but a private session with the young pastor was sure worth a try, wasn't it?

"You clasp your hands together and bow your head," he instructed.

You giggled at his earnestness. "You look stupid like that."

"I look stupid when I'm speaking to my savior?"

"With your hands like that? And that serious look on your face? Yes, you look like a poor beggar," you laughed cruelly. "Begging for Papa to come rescue you. How pathetic. I don't need saving."

Eli scoffed at your words. "This is exactly why I've brought you alone to my church today. The devil has grabbed ahold of your precious heart and twisted it about. He's spit in your mouth and you've swallowed his unholiness." He took a deep breath, shaking his head. "It makes me sad."

You toyed with your fingers, avoiding his eyes. They burned into you with a sizzling stare of shame. "I don't mean to upset you, Father. I just don't think God is for me."

He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see him gazing deeply into you, a faint smile spread across his face. "God is for everybody, dearest." He leaned into you, speaking quietly. "That's His beauty. He sent His son just for you." His whisper was harsh and hot against the shell of your ear, and a shiver raced through your body. He snaked his hand up towards your head and pet your hair.

"The Lord loves you, little angel..."

A deafening crack pierced through the air. Eli jerked to the side as his cheek prickled with popping streaks of red from your slap.

"I know what you want and I know what you're doing," you hissed.

"What the hell ails you?!"

"If you want me, Father, we're going to be doing things my way."

Eli rubbed his cheek and gaped at you with wide eyes. "What are you implying I'm trying to do here?"

How delicious his fake innocence tasted between the grooves of your teeth. How you wished to bite and pop his skin beneath your fangs. Who's your God, Eli? Be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour. I wish to unhinge my jaw and swallow you whole, Eli Sunday, and I get what I want.

"I bet if I kissed you right now, you wouldn't be able to resist me."

Eli's cheeks burned a sour burgundy as he sputtered for a reply. "Why...I-I'd never..."

You ran your finger around the edges of the silver cross dangling from his neck. "Have a little fun, Father. We're alone, after all. What, do you think me too hideous to touch?"

Eli shook his head. "You're beautiful." Your heart tingled with pride. "But this is the house of the Lord. How dare you even suggest such a flesh-fueled thing. I'm trying to help you!"

You rolled your eyes and grabbed him by his collar. "For Christ's sake," you muttered before capturing his lips with your own. Startled, Eli broke the kiss.

"You're evil," he growled. He grabbed your face and kissed you again. "Evil, wicked, sinful little thing." He fumbled with the buttons of your shirt. "I hate you," he said, rubbing his hands along the bare skin of your chest. "I hate you, I hate you."

"You love me, Eli," you groaned, shimmying your shirt off and unbuttoning his.

Eli dropped to his knees in front of you and tugged at your trousers. "You are rotten at your core and I..."

You reached out and rubbed him through his pants. He moaned softly.

"I hate you. I hate you. I need you so bad," he whimpered.

"There we go," you whispered with a grin.

You continued to rub him back and forth as he squirmed underneath your touch. "You know, I've been to some of your sermons before, Father. You're amazing, you know that?"

He groaned at the praise. "Keep going, keep going."

"You're a blessing," you cooed. "You're a star, Father. A shining, sparkling star in this dark, ugly world."

Eli squeezed his eyes shut tight as he bucked against your hand.

Flip the switch.

"How God would weep at you now, unfurling under my touch. Unequally yoked with somebody like me? Your Lord would be so disappointed."

Eli froze, and you halted your rubbing.

"Father, you are a dirty sinner."

You watched as his cobalt eyes became full and glossy with tears. "No, no, I'm a prophet, Y/N," he said, his voice laced with a pathetic whine. "You have no idea how strong my relationship with God is."

"How curious," you said. "Your relationship with God is so strong, you claim...yet you crumble the second my hand meets your cock."

He rolled his hips around your hand, desperate for more of your touch. "Just one time," he muttered towards the ceiling. "Just one time, and I'll spend the rest of my Earthly life making it up to you, Lord."

You unbuttoned your trousers and kicked them off. "Come get a taste of the devil, Eli. You'll never want to run back to God again."

He dived forward and wrapped his lips around you. His tongue swirled about in silky circles, and you sighed as it darted around.

"Sinful," you seethed. "Abomination before the eyes of God. So, so good for me." Your fingers laced themselves in between tufts of his hair. You pet his head gently as he continued to suck around you. You let his tongue flick against you for another moment before you pulled him away. A glassy string of salvia connected his lips to you.

"Clothing off," you demanded. Eli nodded and stripped. You took a moment to admire his body before your eyes trailed downwards.

"You've got such a beautiful cock," you whispered. "You want it inside of me?"

Eli mewled and nodded furiously. "Yes, God, please."

You bent over the pew. "Come and do it, then."

He wasted no time lining himself up against you and pushing in. You groaned at the burning stretch as Eli whimpered against you.

"Oh, yes, that's it," he moaned next to your ear. His cries were pathetic. You gobbled them up with a proud smirk and pushed back against him.

"See? Doesn't that feel so good, Father?"

His mouth hung wide open as he thrusted into you. "You feel so, so good," he wept.

"Oh, Father, isn't it nice?" You squeezed around him. His hips stuttered. "Don't I feel like heaven?"

"I can feel you throbbing," he said. "Dirty. Ch-chock-full of grimy sin. Have you no shame?"

"I'm not the one pretending here," you replied, rocking back so he was sheathed even deeper inside of you. "You act all high and mighty. I bet you've wanted to fuck me ever since you heard about me. I bet you dreamed about filling me up, filthy little whore."

Eli gripped your hips and growled as he thrusted into you harder. "If you keep talking like that, I'm gonna...gonna..."

You cackled, tightening your grasp on the pew. "Hilarious. I just feel too good, hmm? You get inside that hot, wet, slick, throbbing hole and can barely last a minute."

God is weeping in a dazed fit of sorrow. Satan is laughing in a twirling tumble of happy hysteria. You've got them both right where you want them.

"P...please!" he whined, the sound of skin slapping together ringing against the walls of the church. "Let me bury my seed inside of you. I know you want it, too. Let me fill you up."

You grinned. "Under one condition. Admit it, Father...I'm your god now."

His thrusts slowed to a halt as he rubbed the curves of your waist. "Darling, I...I can't do that, honey, I just can't..."

"Do you want to climax, or don't you?"

"I need to," he pleaded. "I need it more than anything."

You clenched around him again and felt the thick of his thighs tremble. "Say it."

He grabbed ahold of your hair and tugged, your head snapping back. "You are a demon made of filthy sin and mildewed blood and Christ, do I need you. You are my god."

He pounded into you rough and fast, the bitter burn of his fingernails digging into your sides.

"Good boy," you moaned. "That's my good boy."

Eli Sunday was no angel. His skin didn't glitter in the light of sunshine and no halo dazzled above his head. No wings like creamy cumulonimbuses spread across his back. He was deliciously human, and you drank in his body and blood like it was your last supper.

Prophet. Preacher. Lamb of the Lord. You grinned with devilish delight as you felt his milky seed drip from you.

Mine now.

[tw1stedthicket]

Dear Heavenly ADHD gods,

Thank you for your low-grade methamphetamines.

Thank you so much for that hard pill to swallow that maybe I'm not somebody that needed to be quiet.

Thank you for transforming mania into momentum.

Thank you for helping me laugh more, and see that so much anxiety relief is in laughter, and so much of a deep breath comes less from checking over my shoulder every.single.time, and crippling self-doubt. It comes more from having fun and trusting my brain to run, as it always does. It may freeze, it may want to flee, it may want to fix, but I will keep going and be happy in doing so with your guidance by my side. My brain will keep me trekking onward and letting me know what is really up (the sky duh), and know when to sleep, and when to think, and when to do neither - but to be engulfed in a moment.

Thank you for helping me be in the moment and yet unserious. Thank you for asking me whether unserious does not mean dispassionate or uncaring.

Please revere the many offerings I have made of lost art and hobbies, and know that I cared so much. Let their spirits guide me to seek the hobbies I have craved that will spark new life in me, on whichever speck of this earth I may find them. Please let me even resurrect a few I really hoped to love, and do love still.

Please guide me to see in others the connections possible when I trust myself more to surrender to The Feral. Please guide me to see as you do that the people that keep making life worth living for me are the people like me, and holy ADHD gods, forgive my words as I know no other comparison, but I mean sinners like me who are saints in their own. I mean people who are cracked but not broken, people who flinch but protect, people who create in the most sacred of ways, from photography to crochet to musical edits to tiktok skits to poetry, and the hundred million times over love keeps revolving the world and revolving my life like a cool arts and craft macaroni kaleidoscope project made by yours truly, the glowing eel of the human brain.

Thank you for bringing to remembrance the tiny gestures that are important, like bravery in making other people laugh in the hallway, and how focus is letting other things go.

Thank you for making me *feel* things, like I am flesh and blood again. Like I am sadness and I am also happiness, and I live somewhere deeper inside than the incessant engines of nerves and tension, void space of distraction or seconds sweating by of screaming silently, but untethered, and perhaps maybe, unhinged. Let me let the scream out.

Please allow me to continue standing on the solid ground of The Bit, and that insecurity is no reason to take things personally or not be assertive. Instead, there lies in me, a bit of a trickster, that façades my way through the deeply unsatisfying disconnection in the ways life has required us to become boring and bureaucratic. Please help me find the whimsy, and use it in the ways I intend to do good in the ways I am passionate about. Our brains are remarkable at appreciating the silly and whimsy, and thank you for that blessing.

Please help me lower my threshold of interest in accepting what isn't my problem, and niceness and universal likeability is not the benchmark for righteousness. Please help me increase my tolerance every passing day for withstanding misunderstanding, even when that means I no longer place my worth as a person in a category of "smart" that I once believed made me worthy.

Grant me your wisdom to know that I am, and have always been, a smart and deeply intelligent and bright person; but I am also a person that struggles mentally every single day. This struggle is both wings and wax.

Please gravitate me toward others that are smart themselves - not in an education or profession or religion or expert kind of way - but smart in the way to know that intelligence doesn't mean much most of the time if you're simply kind and being yourself; and there's an intelligence in that, too. In knowing when not to be "smart" but how to be kind, and nothing more or less than you, and you who can have fun today, in spite of it all. In knowing how to be "dumb", and "lazy", and "unserious", and not required to live up to other people's ideas of what they want your "potential" to be, or what your "achievement" to be, and all the things I've believed that what is quite possibly now untreated ADHD, made me.

Please allow me to forget unevenly loaded ways of measuring integrity when integrity is more than obedience and people-pleasing and being right. Please, meds, let me displeasure the right people on this planet and have integrity to those who I want to. Please let me uncover more of your truth that I hold myself and everyone else on earth to standards that are useless and impossible sometimes to measure, that endless judging or evaluating is misery at the end of the day, and that vigilance and righteousness never gave me the strength to fight my brain or the heart to be a good person, but perhaps it was the help I had. The hands lifting up the earth beside me that allowed me to be, showed me what to do, how to learn to hold, and to help carry that weight with me. That we are all holding up each other, but we don't do it alone. Perhaps that life is one of those great big rainbow tents in elementary school gym class.

Thank you for showing me meaning in who I do know I can be, the person that matured quickly but is still learning to be a person and reconcile adult me and kid me under the rainbow tent. All of my brain's "giftedness's" existentiality and poetry and meaning, and the blessed and cursed forgetting of it, too. The meaning in grappling pressure, perfectionism, concentration, anxiety, overwhelm, tension, inattentiveness, "too much" and "not enough". As though holding this and being able to breathe while keeping the flame lit in-between endless burning out was Atlas holding up my life, and to accept now that maybe there is an unappreciated art of holding yourself together by letting your hands go a little bit. Letting your will be done, holy ADHD meds. Let thy will be done, in my brain as it is in my soul. Amen.

[dynal]

Can I cheat and tell you to answer ALL OF THEM... i love hearing about altai.

this is DEFINITELY a big cheat but you know what i love you and any opportunity to talk about my ffxiv guys i will take. so as a bonus you'll also get gaius.

HERE COME THE BOYS! i'm putting it below a readmore since it will probably. get long.

🪷 what gives this character inner peace?

For Altai, prayer, definitely. At least at the beginning. As the story continues he feels he can't connect with his god as well and thinks he's losing his mind. That's when sticking around the Scions helps him feel a little better.

For Gaius, staying close to his personal hero (Altai). And reminiscing on the few happy memories he has. But reminiscing on those memories can also bring melancholy or could send him spiraling so it's a difficult balance.

🪰 what is the worst thing this character has witnessed but not experienced?

For Altai: Ugh. Look at the MSQ. Every time one of his allies dies he grieves. Even when strangers die he grieves, whether they're meant to be the "good guys" or the "bad guys" because he's not really sure where they "go" when they die. In his religion they would at least find some semblance of peace, but what about here, in this world he's hardly known?

For Gaius: Basically anything he may have heard/seen while he was trapped in the stone. Without the power to physically influence the outside world he was helpless.

🐁 how are this characters ethics?

You know Altai, he's a pretty typical "good guy" but there's a lot of extra quirks that separate him from a typical hero. Being an older man and being a follower of religion will do that to you. He deeply dislikes prejudice and reductive thinking, and believes in the freedom of all, regardless of who they follow. So whenever some kind of subjugation is happening, his brow furrows a little further and his speech gets a little more sharp--a little more old world one could say.

Gaius will just start eating people if someone doesn't stop him. He's seen the horrors of the world, witnessed the uprising of Garlemald. He's done with the bullshit and done with being trapped and unable to help.

🚬 smoking/drinking habits? signature brand or drink?

For all the jokes I've made about Altai rolling cigars I'm not sure if he genuinely smokes. It may be a more spiritual, every-once-in-a-while-for-a-ritual thing. He did often imbibe in the Utter Poison that was the centuries-aged liquor in the temple's cellar.

Gaius doesn't really get any bodily effects from drinking or smoking, but he does enjoy a good ale with friends. It's a social thing.

🌫️ how does this character feel about lying?

Altai doesn't like to lie. He'd rather be honest about a situation than have to keep up a lie. He's not the kind to think some topics are "off-limits" (like talking to a child about death) because everyone has to learn at some point (and perhaps subconsciously, knowing that he was essentially orphaned and was relentlessly bullied by his peers probably makes him think "hatred can be taught at any age, so can any other topic").

Gaius will skirt around the truth or keep quiet about something. He doesn't like to reveal his own cards (especially regarding his whole shapeshifter "I dunno if I can actually die" situation).

🐦‍⬛ fursona?

Altai is a Takin, a sort of goat-like creature that is more closely related to sheep.

Saying Gaius would be a wolf would be a copout, and he's a shapeshifter, so I guess he could be whatever. Maybe a wolverine.

♟️describe how they would play chess, if they would.

Altai would know how to play chess, but it may be a regional variant. Gaius would know too many regional variants, and would know a variant that would make a historian go "hang on a second, nobody's used this variant for over 500 years".

🎲 are they lucky?

Neither of them really believe in luck.

🐌 do they carry their home with them or is it a place?

they carry their homes with them(they carry it in their hearts)they are never without it(anywhere they go,home goes,they fear;and whatever is done by them is their home's doing,such tragedy)

🦤 are they particularly smart in any way? how so, or not?

Altai is a religious scholar--at least for his religion! He's pretty logical though so he figures out situations well.

Gaius was a scholar of astrology when he was alive, and learned a lot of stuff while he was stuck in the stone. He ends up using a lot of historical evidence to navigate situations.

🪽does this character believe in a higher power?

Altai: Yes, he follows the god Lupus (and by extension, his three blood-bound consorts).

Gaius: Can't remember that which he worshiped in the past but I've been toying with the idea of him following Thanatos. Something about following the embodiment of death but being unable to die.

🦪 how would this character describe their gender, if asked?

Altai: I suppose I'm a man. Have I experimented beyond that? Hmm, well, my god, Lupus Therion Alsaab Kekkuon, praise his name--he had invented himself into the form of man and was punished for it, but lived out his future immortal life as a man. So I suppose it would take some self-invention to make myself a man... But in a way, I've done that... Hmm... Though there was that one time I was transformed into a female succubus. It was interesting.

Gaius: When my body erupted into this world, it may have been deemed of another sex, but I am all man! After all, that's what I've carved this body into. I have the scars to prove it. I don't believe I was disgraced for this choice in my mortal life. At the very least, the people who mattered most to me, they knew I was a man. Well, that doesn't mean I can't shapeshift into something else if I feel the urge. I've been known to turn into women--actually, let's end the conversation here.

🫁 yuri or yaoi?

Altai has the big-hands-big-guy nature of yaoi but Gaius has the inherent tragedy of yuri.

👛 what is always with this character?

Altai: Basically always seen with his satchel (tome, inks, pigments, brushes, pens). Gaius also hangs around with him often enough to count. Also keeps wearing the stone as a memento.

Gaius: After the woman he fell in love with disappears, he keeps her bandana with him, always.

🦇 biggest material fear (ie heights, bugs etc)

Altai doesn't like it when things pop up out of nowhere and scare him. He's got a bit of a weak heart for that. Gaius has a dual fear/attraction to long, golden hair. It makes him think of his old best friend, who he loves, but he also misses dearly. Fear and desire are intertwined you know.

🪱 would this character move a worm off the pavement or save it?

Yes. Altai would feel bad for it if it was drying up, and would try to saturate it with some of his water before finding a suitable mud patch for it to burrow in. Gaius would briefly consider eating it but then would choose to save it.

🐞 does this character have any notable accent or dialect? what about other languages?

Altai: He's from the Isle of Raum in the New World. He has a deep accent that isn't really similar to any found in the other continents (I'd equate it to a Slavic accent). He knows an ancient language that was used in his tomes and can speak it fluently. This also means he can understand old-speak characters like Urianger very well.

Gaius: He's from an unknown place. His accent is a bit of a neutral mish-mash of all the places he's been (ending up with a vague, rough-American equivalent).

🦑 any pets?

Altai has Edme, his personal Chocobo. He makes good friends with all sorts of critters and is sometimes secretly spotted taking care of strays.

Gaius doesn't have any pets. He is the pet.

🛡️how does this character protect themself and others?

Altai is mainly a tank. You already know how this goes.

Gaius will sacrifice his own mutated flesh for others. He can't die.

🪓 would they make it to the end in a horror movie?

Altai would hopefully survive. If not, he'd die protecting others. Gaius would be genre-aware and become a bigger threat.

⚖️ how do they seek justice?

Altai will try his best to go the reasonable route. Gaius is the one who takes Altai's true heart and will forcibly rend justice from the hands of the oppressors if he has to.

[jajukhayekaju]

Mind is still and clear, for now.

It appears as if I make a trip to this secluded spot, that only I know of, once every two years. This blog of my is more than a decade old. I don't really recall very well what I was going through every time I have posted something here. As I try to re-read the posts and make sense of my mental state, I can capture some of it.

I'm a good place in my life right now. The last time I was here, I wrote about being in love or thinking that I was in love. Well, I have been living with that girl for the past 2 years. I may end up marrying her. I have been working at a really humane organisation, in a role, that I absolutely love. I got promoted. I underwent an amazing leadership training that I think has changed me quite a lot.

My girlfriend has gone back to her parent's home for a month. My dear school friend who is also a drummer has moved abroad. Slowly and slowly our house has shrunk in size. Therefore, in the last couple of days, I have had a bit of solitude. I quite like it.

I always struggled how to deal with people. The first time I consciously thought about this was around the time I was 22. At that point, I don't think I had sufficiently developed a theory of mind.I don't think I could have imagined what other people felt when I spoke to them or how my behaviour came across to them. I was definitely not a patient person. I still interrupt people a lot. I was certainly very disrespectful. I can imagine how difficult it must have been to be a friend of mine. I am grateful for those who stuck with me.

My relationship of the past two years has in many ways helped me, to learn how to speak. I now wait for people to complete their point when they're speaking. I obviously try to speak a lot less than I used to. Still speak a lot but I'm trying to reduce the amount of time that I hog the microphone. I am 31 as of writing this and it's hard to make sense where my 20s have gone. but I'm happy how my 20s have turned out, based on the outcomes of today. I got 40 years of working ahead of me and I'm excited how they’re gonna shape up, because I'm quite happy with the speed of my learning.

I never want to stop learning. I never want to stop growing. I never want to feel that I can't change anymore. I never want to feel that I am right the way I am. There’s always much to improve. Only tired, old mind would feel exhausted at the thought of learning something new and changing themselves.

The two things that I need to learn in order to achieve the life of my dreams are time management and social skills. Recently, I had an epiphany in which I realised that the reason I suck at time management is because of perfectionism and compulsion. I have been trying to develop the muscle to overcome the mental resistance to initiate a task and overcome the temptation to procrastinate. I think I'm getting better. Hopefully I get much better by the end of the year.

As always, I think deeply about how I should be spending my life. Deep down, I know that a goal of mine is to change the mindset of the people of my country and perhaps even the world. I deeply desire that my country becomes the most developed one. I think I have the answer to what holds it back from becoming one. Another goal of mine is to become rich, successful, to lead an interesting life, to meet interesting people, to get wide spread and recognition. At the heart of both of these goals: a desire to be great.

It’s just one life, and I don't want to settle. I don't want life to pass by me. You know, Sam Altman, is just 38 years old. He is living the life that I wish I was living. I don't want to turn 50 and look at people 10 years younger to me doing far more interesting things that I am at that point and wonder if that could have been me.

I obviously want to be realistic in terms of what I can achieve or not achieve. But I'm often way too ambitious. For example, I would love to see the decline and extinction of religion. I would love to see the US citizens abandon their love of guns. I would love to see a world where is no violence. a world where men, women and children are equal. I don't think I will be able to achieve such huge changes in the mindset of people as I know that I am no modern day Jesus.

If I were to start my work today, I would get to see two generations in action. I don't think so many changes happen over 40 years, but who knows. But surely we would make a quite a bit of progress in the direction that I want the world to move. I get excited at the thought of how the world would look like 1000 years from now, what amazing technology we would have and whether we would have a social utopia.

What does all of this mean for me? I know I need to learn to manage my time better and learn how to influence people before I can achieve any of my goals. Instead of being fixated on the outcome, I should try to be the best version of myself and put efforts towards achieving my goal, irrespective of whether I achieve them or not in my lifetime.

Also, did I mention I traveled to Europe a few months back? Yep, I went there for three weeks.

[mbti-notes]

I'm Chinese diaspora and your typing of Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon really impressed me. I had also though YSL was an introvert but I'm convinced by your reasoning. It led me to rethink what I thought of extroversion in Chinese culture. My question is, how did you understand the effect that Chinese society has on an individual's function expression? I sometimes like to type characters from Japanese anime and I'm wondering if I've made the same typing error there too

I enjoy watching foreign language films for the window that they provide into different cultures. One of the benefits of having friends from different cultural backgrounds is that they are usually willing to help me get more insight into the films, so I must give credit where credit is due. Through them, I’m aware that the popular foreign films here in the west are not necessarily representative of the cultures they’re from, rather, they are perhaps more likely to appeal to western perceptions of those cultures. A great example is the movie CTHD. My general impression is that westerners liked the movie a lot more than the Chinese. It seemed nothing special to them, just another martial arts film among many.

I am by no means any sort of “cultural expert”, though I’d refer to myself as culturally sensitive due to having been exposed to many cultures throughout life. I grew up in a very cosmopolitan place, so I naturally watch out for cultural differences and make a point to investigate them whenever appropriate. I know some general facts from taking courses in cross-cultural psychology, race relations, eastern philosophy, history, and world religions. I used to work as a teacher with adults from a variety of backgrounds. I have to keep up with geopolitics as part of my job. I’ve traveled a lot. One of the reasons I emphasize the difference between cognition and behavior all the time is because I have had enough experience with people to see the influence and impact of cultural forces.

One interesting way to learn about culture is through noting cultural tensions. Even within a culture, there are subcultures that are constantly wrestling with each other. Culture clash is basically the experience of most first and second generation immigrants. You don’t have to talk to them for very long to hear their inner conflicts. For example, you mention Chinese diaspora, so maybe you are familiar with the idea that Chinese-Americans are stereotyped as the “model minority” and often ignored because of it. Historically, the Chinese have had hundreds of years of practice with bringing out people’s sense of duty and obligation to each other, for better and for worse (deeply ingrained Confucian traditions). However, this “positive” stereotype of being conscientious and dutiful only serves to hide the true extent of their struggles. Doing well financially is very important in Chinese culture, but this should not be used as the measure of mental health and well-being. Many Chinese-Americans really struggle with integrating into American culture and what it means for their familial/filial duties. They often struggle in silence with physical and mental health problems because asking for help for yourself (and “wasting money” on it) seems frowned upon. It’s striking to hear someone say that their own well-being is unimportant or less important than their loved ones’.

East Asian cultures (Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese) share certain broad commonalities due to their strong historical connections, one of them being less emphasis on the individual, and, thus, less public freedom to express oneself as an individual (be it expression of will, thoughts, ideas, opinions, beliefs, or feelings). According to some scholars, the repressive nature of Japanese culture is actually what allows the anime and porn industries to thrive (i.e. subversive exploration/expression of self through fantasy or deviancy). In theory, if you are discouraged from honoring or expressing your feelings, it will be difficult to develop a healthy F function. In theory, if you are actively/forcefully discouraged from thinking outside what is considered mainstream, it will be difficult to develop a healthy N function. I see evidence of this all the time from the problems that East Asian readers bring to my inbox.

[urfavmurtad]

I'm the same anon from before. I should probably just make a tumblr at this point. I promise I won't bug you after this. When I lived in Saudi Arabia (as a teenage girl) the religion teacher said that famous hadith about the prophet telling his niece to cover up was actually weak. She was saying this to convince us that the only true way was to cover our faces and hands as well. I said, if it's weak, why should we even cover our hair and arms? She wasn't happy about that.

You’re not bugging me at all anon, I enjoy it when people give me the opportunity to rant. And hijab/niqab rants are always fun. But feel free to make an account and commiserate with the rest of us!

Much like ARTPOP, your hijab can mean anything. Many Saudi ladies wear niqab in the belief that that was the original intent behind the hijab commandment. Though there are always weird-ass niqab revivalist movements, full-body coverings were more common in the past than the present. It’s not too hard to see why. I mean… look at this thing.

Jesus. Regardless, you are correct that what Allah actually wants women to cover is very… vague in the Quran itself. Your head and chest, yes, that seems obvious enough… but what else? (Arms aren’t even specifically mentioned tbh.)

The specific wording of the ayat have been debated for centuries because many of the terms used are just really unclear, and terms used in the ahadith on this topic are also unclear. Khimar in pre-Islamic Arabia appears to have just been a loose head covering worn to shelter people from the sun; the ayah in An-Nur seems to tell women to drape their khimar across their necks and collarbone area instead of just letting it hang down their backs, which sounds very much like the modern conception of hijab. That ayah’s other demand, to conceal one’s “adornments” (zinatan), has a broad range of interpretations ranging from jewelry to beauty in general. The other one, in Al-Ahzab, uses the word jilbab (big loose robe type thing) and it’s a tricky one, because no one knows exactly what Mohammed meant by it. Were women supposed to just drape a large, shapeless robe over themselves, somewhat like an abaya (which is how most people think of “jilbab” now), or were they supposed to completely cover themselves with it, like a niqab?

Your teacher may have had a point in saying that Mohammed meant for women to fully cover themselves, even if the Quran doesn’t explicitly say that. But to figure this out we must dive into the hive of villainy and scum that is the ahadith.

First of all, we have this old classic, the one you’re talking about which defines the aurah as everything but the face and hands, meaning that niqab is not necessary.

Asma, daughter of Abu Bakr, entered upon the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) wearing thin clothes. The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) turned his attention from her. He said: O Asma, when a woman reaches the age of menstruation, it does not suit her that she displays her parts of body except this and this, and he pointed to his face and hands.

It’s not actually weak, it’s sahih. It’s mursal… but that doesn’t impact whether it is strong or weak as long as all the narrators are reliable.

But we can ignore that and dive into the rest of the ahadith, since that’s what your teacher said to do.

There are ahadith like this one from Bukhari and this one from Abu Dawud that suggest that women actually made new garments upon “Allah” commanding them to cover up (in ayah 31 of An-Nur), instead of just using their existing scarves to cover more of themselves. The word in question in both ahadith,فاختمرن ‏ , is unclear. Many scholars believe it means they made face veils for themselves. Others say they just made khimars (headscarves).

But the pro-niqab interpretation is that it doesn’t make sense to believe that it “only” means that they made khimars to cover their hair, neck, and chest, because women would’ve just draped their scarves differently rather than made entirely new garments if that were the case.

As for the other ayah, about “lowering the jilbab”, we have this hadith saying that women looked like they had “crows on their heads” after it was revealed, and good lucking figuring out what the hell that’s supposed to mean. Does it just mean they were wearing black? Was it covering the top part of their face? We just don’t know.

There’s this other hadith about the jilbab in which Mohammed says that if you don’t have one handy, you have to share one with a friend of yours. Again, what does that mean? What does it look like to share a jilbab? Pulling a big cloth thing over your head, or both of you huddling under something that hides your whole body? We don’t know!

That’s why there is so much confusion over this topic. No one bothered to clarify a damn thing and talked in idioms whose meanings have long been forgotten, to the point that it’s hard to tell what the average women in Mohammed’s era actually dressed like. There are ahadith that make it seem like many women left their faces uncovered while perhaps only the upper-class women (like Mo’s wives) covered their faces. So maybe it was just a small minority thing, right? But then we know that Mohammed specifically said that women can’t fully cover themselves while in ihram, meaning a fair number did at other times!! Aaaaaa! Do you see what I mean about this being absurdly complicated?

I guess the best we can say here is that some women interpreted the command as “cover your faces”, while others did not, and Mohammed didn’t seem to say anything to either of them. He demanded women cover their head, neck, and chest, in addition to wearing a baggy outer robe that they pulled over their heads. And it seems many women went beyond that and covered their faces too, at least that’s the best I can do in interpreting the weird-ass ahadith about “crows on their heads” and shit. But we can’t say anything else for certain.

So I would personally say that while wearing hijab and a jilbab-style garment, something loose and flowy, is necessary, niqab is not obligatory. If Mohammed had wanted it to be obligatory, he should’ve clarified it. But it has still been one interpretation of the command to cover for a very, very long time. We know that many, and possibly the majority of early Muslims (at least in some places) interpreted as requiring niqab because it’s mentioned in historical sources, including the 801 AD Tongdian  by Du You of China, which states it’s from a Chinese captive from the Battle of Talas who lived in the Middle East around the 750s AD:

When a woman goes out in public, she must cover her face irrespective of her lofty or lowly social position. They perform ritual prayers five times a day. They eat meat, fast, and they regard the butchering of an animal as meritorious. 

To cap this off, I’d like to add that we know the specific occasion that made “Allah” demand women cover themselves. It’s…………. a lot.

As with many terrible things about Islam, the story of the clothing hijab (vs the whole curtain thing which is a separate tale) begins with everyone’s favorite sycophant, our friend the future Caliph Umar. Umar wants women, especially Mohammed’s wives, to be covered. He is practically obsessed with the idea, really. But Mohammed–I mean, “Allah”–is not demanding that the women cover themselves. Umar is very sad. And Umar has a plan to make Mohammed–I mean “Allah”–recognize the fact that the women really must be covered up. The story is recounted several places by Anas ibn Malik and Aisha, such as here and here in Bukhari:

Narrated `Aisha: The wives of the Prophet (ﷺ) used to go to Al-Manasi, a vast open place (near Baqi` at Medina) to answer the call of nature at night. `Umar used to say to the Prophet (ﷺ) “Let your wives be veiled,” but Allah’s Apostle did not do so. One night Sauda bint Zam`a the wife of the Prophet (ﷺ) went out at `Isha’ time and she was a tall lady. `Umar addressed her and said, “I have recognized you, O Sauda.” He said so, as he desired eagerly that the verses of Al-Hijab (the observing of veils by the Muslim women) may be revealed. So Allah revealed the verses of “Al-Hijab”

Sauda, who is large and tall, goes out to go to the bathroom. Umar is goddamn spying on her and calls out to her to embarrass her, saying “Hey! I see you taking a piss!!!”. She runs home, mortified, and tells Mohammed. The intended message to Mohammed was: “Hey Mohammed, I saw your giant wife pissing tonight. If only she were covered up from head to toe, maybe I wouldn’t have recognized her because she’d just, like, be a hunched-over anonymous blob. But I did see her, sorry bro.”

Mohammed is deeply concerned by this and accordingly Allah reveals the command for women to cover themselves around unrelated men. That means either niqab or something so baggy and shapeless that your body becomes impossible to see, depending on the interpretation.

I hate Umar so much. I should do a post about his dumb ass sometime.

Moral of the story, one of the initial interpretations of it was as a full covering but it was only because Umar was a dick. Don’t pay attention to Umar. Ameen.

[queen-pens-her-memoir]

Nothing earthshaking with regards to my existence and life story. Everything about me is simple, average, mediocre. I don't drink, I don't smoke, I can't bring myself to lie or commit any type of fraud. Maybe I'm basically a good girl because of my decent upbringing -- but, mind you, I am no angel. Am I a disciplined person? I can consider myself so -- because undisciplined is someone I'm definitely not. My rebel character, however, springs up every now and then as I am moderately notorious for being a nonconformist.

I got married to a master electrician a couple of decades ago, a union which lasted on and off for unbelievably ten long years. We had a son whom I raised singlehandedly until he reached the age of 22. When this only child of mine got a job five years ago, he left home and never came back. We haven't reconnected eversince.

How do I describe myself? Painfully shy and quiet, honest, sentimental, loyal, sensible, skeptical, stubborn, thrifty, broken and, imo, deeply flawed. Also sometimes cold-hearted with people (by reason of blistering life events) but, most of the time, I'm truly soft, sensitive, vulnerable. I used to be so self-conscious of my bashfulness and whatever eccentricity I've had. I wish somebody had told me it's okay to be different. That you can conduct your oddness with grace and pride.

There's a tendency for my written expressions to become melodramatic especially when they touch on matters of the heart. Even so, my belief remains that exceptional poems and prose have stood out for the justifiable degree of drama they exhibit.

Many people have deemed me a strong woman. Deep down, I'm not. I'm a baby in the middle of physical pain -- and I'm bloody fearful of losing my independence and financial self-reliance. How I wish I were tougher like the handful of women I have admired.

You think I'm a cynic? Perhaps so. A famous author, nonetheless, asserted people who have been cited for their cynicism are actually deep thinkers who possess razor-sharp observation when assessing situations. Isn't that a bit encouraging? :-)

A small number of things I believe in: Romance-wise, I hold faith in the existence or reality of soulmates, in love that lasts till the end of time, in faithfulness, storms of passion, kindred spirits. The younger me had consistently nurtured a few ideals about love; yet the older me today doubts her capacity for this four-lettered word. What do I really know? All I can say is that I sure have suffered from feeling too much and allowing my heart to rule over my sensibilities.

Aging has been a painful phase for the eternal girl in me. How can I feel old when my heart keeps failing to recognize the march of time?

Religion is also a never-ending thorny issue in lieu of my need to believe in a Higher Power so it can help me endure life's hard knocks as well as ease my sense of isolation. Lamentably, atheism seems more suited to my way of thinking.

That both my parents played favoritism among us siblings scarred me for life. I was the quintessential daughter who couldn’t measure up to her beautiful elder sister.

In school, I had been fond of the subjects Art, History, Astronomy, Law, Philosophy, P. E., and of course, Literature. The following, btw, were the awards and recognitions I received during gradeschool years: Best in Reading and Writing, Best in Language, Most Polite (my mother taught us her children to always greet our teachers), Most Industrious (I regularly stayed after class to arrange back the chairs and put things in order around the classroom -- something I enjoyed doing).

My loves: reading, writing, traveling; dogs and cats and indiscriminately, all animals; dancing, rainy days, breathtaking scenery of landscape and nature, pretty malls. I love looking up at the sky morning, afternoon and night. The moon in whatever shape and shade has found a fervent lover in me.

My likes and interests: exercise, hard-action flicks (minus any revolting graphics), milk tea, Coca Cola, food and drinks that have chocolate in them, pasta, funny guys who make me laugh, humor among plentiful things and situations, clouds, libraries, bookstores, alleys and balconies, elevated trains running across the sky, mountains, snow, falling rain; the colors pure white, light brown, soft red; cool weather, musk scents, astronomy. So far, a few of my most favorite authors and poets are Richard Jackson, Albert Camus, Fernando Pessoa, e.e. cummings, Kenneth Rexroth.

I don't mind doing housework, several chores I find relaxing such as washing the dishes. I like being organized. Yet I have this frustrating habit of not putting things back in their proper place.

My hates: summer at its peak, loud blabby women, bugs (especially the big flying ones)

A couple of my minor regrets: First, not keeping a diary. Second, not learning how to ride a motorcycle: I fancy women bikers as ultra cool.

I would want to live forever not just because I'm afraid of death but because there's so much in life to cherish and hold on to.

In my next life, I’d be a female librarian, a musician, a versatile actress, a great poet.

-- wordpress entry, Marjorie DL

*******

Another all-time beloved song. Everybody likes this old classic. My most favorite version is this highly dramatic rendition by The Four Tops.

"I will take the wine while it is warm/and never let you catch me looking at the sun/...But after all the loves of my life, you'll still be the one.

I will take my life into my hands and I will use it/I will win the worship in their eyes and I will lose it/I will have all the things that I desire/and my passions flow like rivers in the sky...

And after all the loves of my life, you'll still be the one."

[theoptimistbellasworld]

When Adulting Becomes Tiring

Adulting. Quarter life crisis. Never thought that it is an official thing. I know I am going through some crisis or melancholy phase, but I thought I am just overreacting to the change of season in my life.

Millennials like me have experienced an awesome childhood. Life back then was comfortable and simple. Like what I also saw on Facebook a few days ago, they described it as waking up in the morning with our breakfast ready, school uniform already ironed, warm water for our bath, and TV on for the morning news. That, for me, was a stress-free life. No social media. No notifications to check. No worries about whether your message was read, or even seen. No fear of missing out. All you need to worry about is finishing your homework or reviewing enough for the day’s long quiz.

Once school is done, we are in a hurry to go home because we don’t want to miss our favorite afternoon cartoon series. After the leisure of television, just do some of the homework then go out and play outside with friends and cousins. Volleyball, langit lupa, text, pogs, jolen, chinese garter, agawang base, patintero, tumbang preso, luksong baka and more kalye games. We get to play and pick a fight with the kids from the other street, and get to meet new playmates and friends. Real life friends. Our only screen time would be playing the brick game or Super Mario on the family computer. Our favorite past time is to hang out at dusk, with a guitar, playing and singing the songs of our favorite bands: Eraserheads, Parokya ni Edgar, Spongecola, Callalily,  Rivermaya, Kamikazee, Silent Sanctuary, MYMP, 6cyclemind, Moonstar88, Hale, Paramore, FM Static, The Red Jump Suit Apparatus, Life House, Boys Like Girls, My Chemical Romance, Goo Goo Dolls, and the list goes ooonnn! (I know you have a lot of bands in your mind, but these are just my favorites. And yah, this is my jam back then. LOL. And friendships are strengthened because of this jam! Haha)

Now we are getting nostalgic huh? But my point is, life, when we were teens, was fine and easy. The words I used a while ago were comfortable, simple, and stress-free. What happened now? Have you felt the transition? Have you noticed that you became fully aware of life and society’s issues? Do the burden and responsibilities seem too much for you now? Same besh. Same. And I realized it is not just because we age, but also because we mature, and times are changing fast. This current generation is so different from ours that causes our transition to be overwhelming.

I read an article from Grace Communion International that explains what is happening. Tho it talks about midlife crisis, I'm pretty sure we can get something from it:

The midlife years have always been a time of reflection. With one’s life supposedly half over, we try to reevaluate who we are and what we want to do with the rest of our lives. Factor in anxiety about growing older and comparisons to others or unattainable standards set by advertising, and it is easy to see how this period of time segued from what was once called the “midlife transition” into a “midlife crisis,” a term introduced in 1965 by psychoanalyst and social scientist Elliot Jaques. How do we cope with all of this midlife melancholy without becoming suicidal?

The roots of these feelings run deeper than emotional dissatisfaction with life. We all want to feel significant in some way—to leave a positive mark on society and those around us. When the midyears hit, we realize many of our youthful dreams will never come true. It can be deeply disappointing. Even if those dreams did come true, it can leave us unfulfilled and wanting more. We are dissatisfied. So either way, almost any path looks better than the one we’ve taken.

We have more, more, more of everything, yet feel less, less, less satisfied.

Mid-lifers search in all the wrong places to fill the void of lost youth, unrealized dreams, or discontentment. Some have an extramarital affair, get plastic surgery, buy a new convertible, or switch jobs — finding out too late that these outward appearances cannot replace the emptiness inside. Perhaps that’s when suicide looks appealing.

Society has made it easy to bail out. Just a handful of pills, an endless sleep and all feelings of inadequacy are over.

But is midlife suicide a solution or a symptom of our modern society? Society tells us we must be happy all the time. Yet society tells us ever so subtly that we will never measure up: We are not young enough, pretty enough, thin enough, rich enough or smart enough. Even religion often makes us feel that we are not good enough and that we do not do enough. This “not enough” syndrome leaves people feeling helpless and hopeless, making the void in their lives seem even bigger.

Source: https://archive.gci.org/articles/mid-life-melancholy/

One of my favorite writer, John Piper, cited an experience of a midlife meltdown in one of his articles:

There is something to men in midlife crisis. I remember one time, I was 40, sitting on the steps halfway through vacation sobbing. Noël comes down the steps. She asked, “What’s wrong?” I said, “I don’t have a clue. I don’t have a clue why I’m so sad.” And that season lasted several years, and the grace was that I could still function. 

Source: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/walk-with-me-through-a-midlife-crisis?fbclid=IwAR30LDixYMPJn5X8n-wk1ZGJ2MD0728rrAQf6wGaN08I9Yee2_sjzbseDYo

So you see, this is not something that we just make up because we are too emotional with what is happening in our lives. These things really happen and you are not alone in this struggle. 

I tried to enumerate what are the major things that make me worry or anxious. Now, these are just my personal struggles but have heard with friends of the same age that they worry about these things, too. Maybe as you read, you can relate and you can say we are on the same rapids. ;)

Financial Stability

We are no longer students who are just waiting for our allowance and if in case it won’t be enough, we can just ask from our parents anytime. We are professionals now. We work to earn our own money, pay our own bills and to at least give some to our parents. But as the supply increases, the demands are increasing too. Our income doesn’t seem to be enough for the things we need to pay for. And worst, we can’t save for a house and a car, or just even maintain a savings account. We declare that we are financially unstable.

Dreams

“This is not where I am meant to be.”

“I should be this or that.” 

“I want to be like him/her”

We have dreams that seem to be impossible to happen or out of our reach. And because of the rejections and disappointments we have experienced, we ended up burying those dreams in the deepest of our hearts.

Settling Down 

Settling down is an unspecific way of indicating you have found a life partner and stopped dating or jumping from one relationship to another. But the problem with this generation is, people can’t be contented with the one they are already with. And this is so heartbreaking.

I have heard and seen relationships falling apart only because the other person got interested with someone else and chose to dump the current relationship for a new one. This creates fear or trust issues for some people. Thus, dreaming of settling down becomes the least priority.

Some don’t want to settle down because they think they are not yet ready. They think they are not yet financially and emotionally capable. But we can’t pretend that we do not want it and we do not worry about it. Deep inside we all want to build our own family and go home with the person that will be our “constant” and “forever”. Especially if we are already on our ideal marrying age.

Talents/ Hobbies 

I am not sure if I am the only one who gets anxious about this, but do you have a talent or hobby that you really love doing yet because of work and other responsibilities in life, you no longer have the luxury of time to do it? Then when you see someone excellent on that thing, you can’t help but be jealous and wish you can still do it too.

I wrote about these things because I want you to know that you are not alone in this journey. You don’t have to go through it and figure things out all by yourself. Thank God because these things are just for a season. And we can learn a lot from it. That I will share on my next blog. ;)