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hes-writer · 4 years ago

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Ruin

Summary: im not sure how to summarize this without spoiling the story

Warning: angst, bits of fluff here and there

Word Count; 4158 words

A/N: the long-awaited part 6 of the Tarnish series! A collab with @devilinbetweenthesheet-s. My attention span is short itself so I've decided to split it up into two parts.

UNEDITED

___

Harry tried to see the brighter side of the situation because it truly was something to look forward to. Having the chance to get to know Halo was something that he should be grateful for. As Y/N said, Harry did not deserve to be a part of her life, despite the fact that he was the father. And somewhere, somehow— he understood where she was coming from.

Harry honestly wouldn’t know what he would do if the roles were reversed; if Y/N were the one to have been cheating on him. He would not have a clue if Harry would be as kind to her as she was with him. If an outsider were to assess the situation between Harry and Y/N, they would definitely choose her side to be in favour of. So far, Harry still wasn’t able to pinpoint what exactly Y/N had done wrong for him to be swayed by an illicit affair. Was there even a moment in time that he could vividly see where he made the decision to just up and betrayed her trust? Because if there was; either his memory has gone to shit or Harry was more of a jerk than he served himself.

To put things into perspective, Y/N was the perfect partner and Harry had somehow lost sight of that by cheating on her. Don’t get him wrong; Camille was good, great, even. Yet Y/N was an amazing woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Coincidentally, those were the same type of things that Harry needed, too. As much as it pained him to say it, Camille’s rejection of their own little family made him rethink his decision-making process. Harry has learned more about himself in these past few months than he did in his entire lifetime.

For starters, he cleared it up that he had absolutely no excuse for cheating on Y/N except the fact that his retention span lasted a good few years before he was in search of something fresh; something new and exciting. Maybe it scared him just how serious she was in having a family in the future that his subconscious thought that Harry needed one last hurrah to get the infidelity out. Besides, divorces are more complicated when there are children involved.

Secondly, being with Camille was an infatuation that lasted for a long, three years—beginning while Harry was in a relationship with Y/N. Feelings were still there for sure, but he just didn’t know if it was enough to make him stay, especially when Y/N and baby Halo were right there waiting for him. They actually weren’t; Harry just liked to pretend that they were so that he could justify the consequences of his actions.

Camille was trying to make things work with him; Harry could see that. However, there were only so many things that she could do to improve their relationship before she had to change the choices that she had made years prior. Camille really didn’t want to say that she had refuted the idea of not having kids for the sake of making a relationship prosper, but maybe it was what she had to do to make him stay. She wanted a happy life with someone who wanted the same things as her. Harry wasn’t the man who shared a mutual agreement and she was pushed to question her options.

Nonetheless, Camille and Harry stuck with each other because they were all they knew for the past three and a half years. It was definitely ironic for Harry to say that he couldn’t just leave a three-year relationship behind for another woman; because he had done that before. Now, he was a hypocrite too? His ego cannot take it.

____

Connor wrapped his arms around Y/N’s middle as she washed the dishes in the sink. Their water heater was broken so the stream that came from the faucet sometimes teetered from freezing cold to extremely hot. Right now, she was scrubbing the sponge on the porcelain as quickly as possible while the water was at the right temperature.

Y/N turned her head to the side, pressing a kiss on Connor’s cheek. He rested his chin on her shoulder, bobbing up and down as she moved her arms.

“Is this really a good idea, baby?” Connor asked, staring at the way her lashes fluttered in a pregnant pause, taking a deep breath.

She nodded, reaching over slightly to rest the wet dish on the drying rack. “Halo deserves to at least know her real father,”

And it was true. What kind of mother would Y/N be if she kept a secret like that from her own daughter? The past two years was a constant ping-pong battle of reaching out to Harry and sharing the news to him; then, Y/N would be hit with a shot of realization, wondering if this would ruin his current lifestyle.

“I understand. What if he leaves again? Hate to remind you but Harry left you once before, don’t think he’ll hesitate to do so again,”

She froze at Connor’s words. Y/N was aware that he only said that in good faith, to remind her of how hurt she was at the time and just how long it took for her to be able to finally breathe again.

One side of Y/N urged to still defend Harry. She wanted to turn and around, yell at him because Connor doesn’t know Harry as she does. Harry wasn’t the type to build a child’s dreams up only for him to personally manhandle the heart and crush it in his fist. There was a reason why he was a godfather to so many kids; Ruby, Arlo and Jackson—because he was capable. Harry was a nurturing father who put himself on the back burner in favour of making sure that the little ones were safe and secured. He had no problem being third if it meant that the kids were first, then Y/N, then him.

It all sounded so good in Y/N’s head; so well-rehearsed and very well thought out. The monologue that had somehow stuck in the sides of her brain like a script taped to the wall, ready for the time it needed to be recited. The shredded pieces of paper also reminded her that Y/N might’ve known Harry before, but she certainly doesn’t anymore. In fact, she knew just as much as Connor did.

Just like Y/N had grown and evolved into a new person, Harry was not the same guy he once was when they were together.

“I told him the consequences if he did,”

Connor pulled back, stepping away from her. “But wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t take that chance? Who knows what he might do. . .” He trailed off, grabbing a dry rag to wipe the water dripping from the dish.

Y/N took a leap of faith in letting Harry in. He was a wild card. He could promise one thing but would mean another. Or he could recite a vow and completely annihilate the person as he did with her. Yet somehow, Y/N couldn’t resist the opportunity to give him one chance. Maybe it was because a small part of her craved to re-create a happy family that they had always wanted.

“It’s a risk. I know that” Y/N rinsed a cup, swirling the water in circles. She felt like that whenever Harry was around.

“So why are you still doing it?” Y/N opened her mouth to answer, “And tell me the truth this time, yeah?”

Her boyfriend stared at her with an unreadable emotion in his eyes, lips drew taut in a straight line and arms were crossed over his broad chest. The pressure was immense on Y/N’s shoulders. She was torn between admitting what she had buried deep below the sand or simply glossing over it like a figure skater. Nonetheless, Y/N was on thin ice.

For years, she had flicked away the remaining feelings that stayed with her. But they were persistent in sticking by her side. It wasn’t like Y/N could completely erase Harry from her life--from who she was. She still dressed like him, evidenced by the matching pair of Gucci loafers she chose not to wear for the night in fear that he would coincidentally be sporting the same footwear.

Furthermore, they had a child together! Halo was the spitting image of him. It was hard not to be reminded by a man she once loved when their little baby was both of them mixed in one. So did Y/N still love Harry? She couldn’t deny how much her heart fluttered seeing him stutter over his words at the park. Y/N just wasn’t sure if it was from anxiety and nervousness or excitement and anticipation.

Unbeknownst to the couple, Harry had sneakily closed a sleeping Halo’s bedroom door. His trek back to the kitchen was slow, slightly afraid of the awaiting talk he and Y/N--and possibly Connor-- have yet to have. Harry wanted to be there for Halo and for Y/N every step of the way, but he knew that Y/N would not allow him around if his intentions were to cater to a relationship with her. She was already tolerating him as is.

Standing behind the thin wall that acted as a partition from the hallway to the kitchen, Harry carefully placed his hands against the barrier to steady himself. He didn’t know if his legs could take whatever answer would spill from Y/N’s mouth. If she admitted her true feelings, he would stumble and melt into a puddle. He would be confused, but Harry wouldn’t be opposed to it; he was in a relationship after all. If she denied it--which was the more likely option--, his heart would break silently in his chest.

Harry numbed himself of the guilt raking at his ankles. He was well aware that this was a private conversation but hey; it was not his fault that he had ears straining to listen to Y/N’s reply.

“Do you still love him?” Connor followed up, voice grim. Almost fearful to find out the truth. Harry was, too.

Y/N paused her thoughts as well as her actions, flinching at the sudden intrusion of Connor’s question. She flinched, yelping a little and jumping backwards when the broken water heater subdued the filtering liquid into a burning hot splatter on her skin. Connor picked his feet up in alarm, grabbing at Y/N’s wrist to see the minor injury on the back of her palm.

“Ow!” Y/N whisper-shouted, soothing the ache by situating it between her thighs before shakily showing it to Connor; the doctor.

“Let me see, baby,”

Harry peeked his head around the corner, almost losing his cover with the way his feet instantaneously wanting to move towards a hurting Y/N. Good thing he caught himself. Surely they would put two and two together and realize that Harry was eavesdropping.

That decision came with a laceration to his heart. Harry got a first-class ticket to register that the couple was everything he and Y/N were. The pet names, the domesticity of their actions. The caring glances and constant check-ups.

Deciding to come out of hiding, Harry almost had a heart attack when he turned the corner and was met face to face with Connor. His brows had dipped in worry, face determined to grab some cream to apply to the burn from their first-aid kit in the bathroom. Harry guessed that his whizzing thoughts failed to hear the quiet instruction.

The man jolted in surprise, stopping quickly in his tracks, “Oh hey! Is Halo asleep?” Connor gave him a smile despite the confusion etching in his forehead. Harry nodded dumbly, lips pursing like a fish. “Y/N’s just burned her hand, nothing too serious though,”

He looked over his shoulder to see Y/N eyeing the both of them suspiciously, still clutching the burnt skin close to her. “Oh, I see,”

Connor smacked a firm hand on his shoulder, stepping around him to grab the cream. Harry walked towards Y/N, noticing that she was soothing the painful ache with ice wrapped in layers of tissue. She was softly hissing through her teeth once in a while.

“You okay?”

She tilted her head at him, appearing to be dazed out in her thoughts. “Yeah, uh, nothing too bad,”

Harry kept his distance, leaning on the other side of the counter. He started off by saying, “Thank you for giving me this chance,”

Y/N graced him with a smile, standing up straighter when Connor appeared with a tube in his hand. Harry watched as he unscrewed the cap, placing it beside her. He squeezed a bit of the cream unto his fingertip before applying it directly on Y/N’s skin. She winced, wanting to pull her wrist away from his grip but Connor didn’t let her, “It’s gonna be fine, baby,”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, continuing to rub circles on the burn until Y/N visibly relaxed through slouched shoulders and less shaky breaths.

Harry was staring at them like a kicked puppy. He was fussy and frustrated all in one. He wanted the attention that Y/N was giving Connor. He wanted to be Connor, but both of them were too wrapped up in their little love bubble to notice Harry’s squinted eyes and pinched brows.

He was frustrated because even if he wasn’t the direct cause of her pain, Harry had somehow found a way to continue hurting her and Connor was always there to pacify his wrongful actions. Harry hated that this was how fate had planned his life.

Harry cleared his throat, raising a fist to his mouth, “Think I should go,” His thumb pointed over his shoulder, “Uh thank you again,”

Y/N snapped her head to him, gaze lowering in a timid manner as if she forgot that he was even there in the first place. Connor was the first to reply, “Alright, man. See you whenever,” He capped the tub, shoving it in his back pocket to return to its place.

She leaned on her tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips, muttering something in his ear that had Connor teasingly wrapping his hands on her hips. Harry looked away, taking long strides to the entryway instead.

“Harry, wait!”

He shuddered at the memory of the words that had changed his life when Gemma told him the truth. Harry’s shoe was half-way one when he turned around. “Yeah?”

Y/N was holding a folded brochure, “Halo has a recital this weekend for her dance class,” She handed it to him, “Maybe you’d want to go? You can bring Camille if you want but I think it would be better if you didn’t. She’s still new to this and I don’t want her asking too many questions until she can unders--,”

“I’ll go,” Harry cut her off, unfolding the folded paper. The venue was about twenty minutes away from his place. It was only an hour-long considering the skill set of two-year-olds but it was a fun way for parents to cheer on their little ones. Harry’s previously sour mood was now replaced with giddiness at the sight of his daughter in a pretty pink tutu, twirling on her feet. He was sure that Halo was born to become a performer like him.

She sighed in relief, puffing her cheeks out cutely, “It’s a private dance class. Pretty high end so the security should be okay,”

And there it was again. The constant reminder that Harry was otherworldly to some people. As much as he loved living his lifestyle, he sometimes wished that he was a normie. That was a lot to ask for considering his current situation with his daughter, but a man can dream.

“Got it,”

Y/N leaned over to show him the back of the leaflet, “Just show them this ticket and security should let you in. Halo wanted me to give that to you because she was too shy earlier. I know it’s short notice but I guess she was comfortable enough to ask you,”

Harry blushed at the admittance, mentally patting himself at the back for making his daughter feel at ease in a short amount of time.

“I’ll be there,” He pushed his heel to adorn his sneakers. Y/N bit her lip, she looked hesitant, “It’s okay if you don’t want to go, by the way. I can explain that you’re busy. She’ll probably understand,”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. Harry wasn’t going to ruin his progressive relationship with his daughter on ‘probably’. “Y/N, s’alright. No problem, yeah? I’ll be there,”

___

Where was he?

It was two days after the dinner and Harry’s promise of attending Halo’s recital was vanishing with each passing second. Every time the hand of the clock ticked to indicate that another minute had elapsed. Harry still wasn’t jogging through the carpeted middle of the small theatre to where Connor and Y/N were seated. Two empty seats were left at the end of the aisle to aid Harry--and possibly Camille--a smooth arrival without creating any distractions.

There were only five minutes left before the stage crew were to dim the spotlights illuminating the room. Y/N was checking her watch what felt like every second, clicking her phone on and off once in a while worried that something may have happened to Harry. Maybe security wouldn’t let him in. The gnawing feeling at the pit of her stomach suggested that Harry just forgot the event tonight but Y/N would cross the bridge when they got to it. Regardless, her nerves were left unsettled as swallowing proved to be more difficult with the way a sip of her water had her gulping audibly. Connor wasn’t there to lend a soft hand on her upper back to help her breathe.

Speaking of, Connor had taken the initiative to visit Halo backstage. The ballet teacher was growing weary of the way the little dancer ran out from beside the stage to stop in front of her parents, asking, “Where’s Hawwy?”.

Halo had done it three times in hopes of receiving an answer aside from, “He’s not here yet,” Y/N tucked a fallen strand of hair from the otherwise sleek bun from beside her cheeks. Her daughter’s form slouching as her pretty eyes watered slightly, “He’s not coming? You told me he was coming, mama,”

Y/N glanced at Connor nervously, being met with an ‘I-told-you-so’ look which didn’t really help the situation. Luckily, the teacher had approached them with a clipboard on hand, searching for the ballerina. The teacher had suggested that one of them stay with her behind the curtain until the show began. Connor volunteered.

“Better hope he comes or else we’ll have to deal with the consequences. I really don’t want to see her heartbroken before of a promise he couldn’t keep,” Connor muttered, following the woman but not before thumbing circles on Y/N’s flushed cheek.

Y/N knew that he meant well. She also didn’t want to comfort a heartbroken Halo because Harry failed to show up where he promised he would be. And now, with a little less than two minutes before showtime, Connor was sent back beside her. Parents were being ushered to find their seats before the lights dimmed and it would be difficult to maneuver through knees and legs.

“Is he here?” Connor questioned, draping a hand on her shaking knee. Y/N shook her head, casting another glance at the auditorium doors. He waved at Halo who peeked her head between the silk curtains, wandering eyes looking at the empty seat beside Y/N.

“No. Hasn’t texted or answered his phone either,” Y/N was about to dial Harry’s contact once more in a desperate attempt to reach him. However, the dimming lights indicated that it was too late. Connor laced their fingers together, offering apologetic eyes and a tight-lipped smile; they would have to nurse a broken heart later tonight.

_____

Harry was in the middle of buttoning his patterned shirt, staring at his reflection in the mirror to silently judge his fashion choice for the night. Was it too much for a kids’ ballet recital? He deemed that it was, stretching his arms to remove the fabric adorning his chest, moving to grab the pink, flamingo patterned shirt instead. He took his time, granted that he had about an hour before the recital started.

He smoothed the fabric over his broad shoulders, pausing when Camille walked in. Harry locked his green eyes at her through the mirror as she walked to their shared bed, sitting at the foot of it.

“What d’ya think?”

She hummed in response, absentmindedly nodding in agreement when Harry asked if it was good. Both Camille and Harry had talked about his relationship with Halo as soon as she landed at the airport. He didn’t want to keep any secrets from her. Fortunately, Camille was very understanding of his situation, offering him support and encouragement to build a bond with his daughter.

What Camille didn’t reveal was that she was a bit antsy of Harry’s relationship with Y/N. She meant everything she had said to him, but it was no guarantee that Harry would ignite another connection with his ex-girlfriend. Not that Camille didn’t trust him. It was just a bit concerning because she believed that how a relationship starts is how it will end. Harry certainly had a history of straying away from his present partner.

Harry was currently in their walk-in closet, finding a pair of slacks that weren't too formal or casual. Camille mulled the thoughts in her head. She loved Harry dearly and would do anything for him. Well, anything except having children of their own. He had mostly accepted her decision, only wincing a little when the topic of a family was brought up by mutual friends and family once in a while.

Truth to be told, Camille was scared. She was afraid that Harry would leave for Y/N because she had Halo. They were the family that he had always wanted and although Camille wasn’t too keen on giving him the same; she was debating on it.

“How’s this, Cam?” Harry retreated with two pairs of pants. On one hand was a pair of straight-leg skinny jeans that he hadn’t worn in years. The other held brown, corduroy, striped slacks. “Or this one?”

She bit her lip, standing up slowly, walking over to him. “What do I think?”

He nodded, innocently jutting his bottom lip at her as he looked back and forth.

Camille swathed her hands on his shoulders, ghosting her mouth over his ear, “I think I like you better without them,” Her finger traced his collarbone, swirling at the dip of his throat. “Without anything,”

Harry gulped harshly. He felt Camille unbuttoning his shirt, gliding her palms downwards until she was cupping his bulge, “Camille, wait,” He flicked his watch to check the time. It took twenty minutes to get there, maybe even more with traffic and parking.

She dragged him to the bed by the ends of his opened shirt, locking her lips with his plush ones. He rested a knee on the mattress, his hands at the back of her head as Camille continued to pull him down.

Pulling away, Harry panted, “What are you doin’?” He laid his creased forehead on hers.

Camille supported herself on her hands, moving her face back until she was able to get a clear view of his perplexed expression, “I was thinking that maybe we could. . . try having a baby, H,” Her voice was soft, almost timid and she was doing her best not to break eye contact to show her sincerity.

Harry gasped in surprise, “Wha--? Really? Are you serious?” His tone gained a pitch as excitement enthralled his senses. The smile on his face was wide and reached his bright eyes. “Baby, are you sure?”

Camille nodded, grinning softly. “Yes,’

“Oh my--this is. . .,” Harry pulled at the locks of his hair, pacing around the room. “This is great! Our own family. Jesus. I can’t believe it,” Tears sprung on his corneas.

He kneeled between her legs, taking her wrist and pressing a gentle kiss on her skin, murmuring ‘I love you’ repeatedly.

“Are you going to keep doing that?” Camille asked, spreading her legs rhetorically. Harry observed her position, nodding enthusiastically.

Another glance at his watch indicated that Harry was absolutely pushing it with being late to Halo’s recital. Yet one enchanting kiss from Camille wiped his thoughts clean. He was getting what he wanted; a family of his own.

___

Let us know what you thought! The seventh part of the Tarnish series will be uploaded on Patreon on Sept 29!

___

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bipercabeth · 5 years ago

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okay i love percy having a crush on luke for so many reasons (the drama of it all... unparalleled) but thinking more about percy having a crush on beckendorf has me comparing luke and beckendorf both as individuals and through their impact on percy and i have a lot of thoughts about it.

@sawasawako phrased it really well in this post: “he looked up to luke bc he was friendly and popular and cool in an environment that percy was new to and wanted to fit into, and he looked up to beckendorf for the same reasons + the fact that he was closer to what percy wanted for himself and envisioned himself to be in the future.” i think both luke and beckendorf are consistent reflections of percy learning what he does and doesn’t want for himself. in tlt, percy wants to be like luke. luke is charismatic and liked and wanted and that’s everything percy has never had a chance to be. luke takes percy under his wing before percy gets claimed and suddenly that feels attainable. it feels like percy has a place to belong. and then percy gets claimed and luke starts Scheming, ultimately betraying and poisoning percy. so much of pjo is percy learning that luke is right for wanting change (we are not getting into Luke Was Right discourse on this blog but i think we all agree that the system doesn’t work as it is) but so wrong with how he goes about it. and i think a criminally under-examined part of that comes through beckendorf.

most of beckendorf and percy’s friendship is implied or discussed in the demigod files, but what we get is so good and there’s so much to unpack. for starters, beckendorf is a constant force of Good at camp. he’s the first (and one of the only) people to accept tyson at the beginning of SoM, coming around on that faster than even percy himself. beckendorf isn’t popular in the sense that he’s charismatic like luke—he’s very much a son of hephaestus who is more comfortable with machines than humans, but he’s at camp often and puts in the work. in tlo he’s referred to as “the anchor for the entire camp.” he’s a respected head of his cabin, he gets the guts to figure things out with silena, and he makes plans to go to nyu in the fall. he even takes care of mrs o leary when percy is gone. beckendorf does his job at camp, has a demigod girlfriend, and still plans to live a full life out in the mortal world. that’s so in line with everything percy is struggling with at the beginning of tlo, and of course that’s right when we lose beckendorf.

beckendorf’s death is also interesting to consider in its ties to percy and luke. beckendorf dies the way percy has expected himself to die at least once per book until now: sacrificing himself for his friends. from the moment percy threw himself off the gateway arch, this has been a consistent theme throughout the original series. beckendorf, who percy looks up to—who manifests what percy wants for himself—dies the way percy has always seen himself dying. given that percy is about to learn about the great prophecy, this is some heavy shit to handle and percy gets ZERO time to process it before he’s thrown into literal war.

beckendorf vs luke is a dynamic i’ve never seen explored but desperately want to. out of our current campers, beckendorf is among the top most likely to have shared experience with luke (outside of annabeth or the hermes cabin). they were both year-round campers and heads of their cabins. they would’ve sat at that ping pong table during counselor meetings and coordinated/faced off during capture the flag for years prior. seeing beckendorf as the anchor of camp after luke betrays them says so much about who he is as a person. there isn’t too much expansion i can do on the dynamic between them without getting into my own headcanons and interpretation, but luke’s determination to change the system by violent means vs beckendorf stepping up and keeping camp grounded in the middle of a war speaks volumes. luke sacrifices the lives of other demigods to make the change he wants, and only sacrifices his own life when there’s no other choice. luke’s first move in support of kronos and rebellion against the gods is to try to kill percy. from the moment beckendorf realizes he’s going to be captured on the princess andromeda, he plans to sacrifice his own life. he gives percy as much time as he can and urges him to leave the moment they make eye contact.

tldr: beckendorf is an incredible character who reflects percy’s own desires as well as the core values of pjo, and also he was hot as hell and percy had a crush on him

#charles beckendorf #percy jackson #luke castellan #pjo #i don’t think i’ve ever posted Real Meta before but i got passionate #beckendorf clarisse and grover are the minor characters i would absolutely go to war for #emma yells

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leam1983 · 4 years ago

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On Grief

This is a long one. You're under no obligation to push further if you don't want to. It's a personal post, so I'll more than understand if this isn't to your tastes. The normally-scheduled pedantry, commentary and memes will resume shortly.

One of my relatives was diagnosed with ALS. What started as an odd case of palsy in her left set of vocal cords that could've been far more benign was just confirmed by her referred physician. It's Lou Gherig's, and with her age and current condition, her prognosis is of three to five years, tops. Sure, Stephen Hawking blew his own prognosis out of the water, but a combination of notoriety and luck enabled him to eke out as much existence as medical tech could've possibly allowed.

We knew things were suspect when my aunt, a marathoner with a monthly sub to Runner's World, stopped running. Her food intake dropped like a stone, and she soon took to increasingly simple painting and drawing styles. At first we thought it was just her wanting to explore simpler rendering techniques, but then...

Then we noticed the twitching. How awkwardly her pens and brushes were set in her hands. She was in great shape and didn't mind living in the ass-end of Sutton, basically in the open country and with a path leading up to her front door that was all in rough cobblestones. She broke a hip against them, last year.

Her speech started to slur, lately. Her last bike trip also landed her in the ER. She doesn't bike anymore. She doesn't run, and being a gourmand by nature, feels obligated to restrain herself, for fear of gaining weight. She's aggressively vegan. Not towards others, but towards herself. No meat, no eggs, nothing. Most of us ovo-lactos and omnivores in the family know her constant snacking meant her seventy-plus body is desperate for energy.

From the look of things, it feels like the diagnosis broke through her bullshit reasoning for being vegan. She wasn't vegan for the sake of limiting her carbon footprint or making more responsible choices at the grocery store, but because she, as a lifelong anorexic, thought she was ugly and needed to lose weight. That's been a constant with her. Age catches up and skin sags? She mistakes it for a love handle, cuts out virtually all sources of protein and carbs safe for tofu, seitan and bean-based preps. Of course, like a lot of anorexics, she'd have bulemic episodes. I used to sleep over at her last bachelor pad, as a teen, and I remember her pantry was loaded up for bear with Danish cookie tins, Nutella jars and whipped cream. I remember she invited me over specifically when she intended to cheat. Then it was back to yoga, pot-smoking, meditation and shopping runs - and she probably kept her purging for when I was gone.

So yeah. I'm betting Belgian Asshole (see one of my previous posts) convinced her to break her vows and went looking for a "slice of authentic Tikka Masala", to quote his email. The entire family is made up of ethnic food diehards, so we spam-flooded his inbox with recommendations. Looks like she'll be eating meat again, soon. Her own email mentioned concerns of strength and stamina, so I get it.

Otherwise? We're gobsmacked. Imagine spending an entire weekday both at work and off work, aggressively goofing off because you're trying as hard as you can not to think of your favourite aunt's mention of assisted suicide as an option.

Three to five years. Maybe one, or two good Christmases. After that, her condition should probably have started to deteriorate quickly.

I'm not close with a ton of my own family. I love them all, but it's more a sense of polite respect than anything involving solid bonds. The only two folks I know I'll be devastated for when they'll die are her, and my youngest cousin on the other side of the family.

I'm mostly okay now. No doubts, no crisis of unbelief, no anger, no rage... But then I'll see her in a more diminished state, one of those days. How am I going to take to it?

Part of me keeps a tally of the deaths in the family. First, it was my uncle on my mother's side. Ruptured abdominal artery, with a leak small enough to pool into the gut's cavity for months. Decay settled in, guy got anesthetized for an intervention...

They didn't even bother sewing him back up.

Second one was my other paternal aunt's new husband. First one was great, but left the country in the seventies to go live in Stockholm with his medical assistant. Second one was a geologist and physicist at the same campus she taught as. French guy, the son of innkeepers four generations down. It showed, too. Our Christmas tables haven't been the same since he left us his recipie books, all his corny jokes on provincial eating habits, and his obstinate focus on turning every 25th of December into a Roman orgy probably befitting of the old Saturnalia traditions. I mean, when's the last time you've had an eight-course meal, outside of Thanksgiving?

Tumors in his mesenteric artery lined the blood vessel's inner walls, deposited virtually everywhere in his body. He was diagnosed in June and dead by August. He'd always been the lanky type, bone-thin even if he hoovered food like he'd never have enough. He looked even thinner in his hospital bed.

Then, my maternal grandpa bit it. Decades of casual alcoholism, cirrhosis more or less jumping on him around his seventy-sixth year. He looked a bit like John Keston, the actor who played Gehn in CyanWorlds' Riven. Same hairline, same hawkish nose, same eyes - just more Cajun and less New England-esque. I don't know if it was youth or stupidity or - anything, really, but I dropped by to see him, just two days before he died. I didn't realize he was tallying my life, asking me if I had everything in order, if things were planned.

Now, I understand.

Next one on the chopping block is Aunt Doris, still on Mom's side. She of the serial mooching, she of the concept of not needing much to get by if you were the cute one of the family. She was pretty enough in her prime, sure - if by pretty you meant "cigarette-butt blonde with a discount Farah Fawcett blow-up and an unfinished High School degree". First husband was an abusive ass who gave her an uncommonly sensitive son, second one figured she'd stick to the minimum-wage circuit while he tore out rotator cuffs or busted his C7 while on his outboard like clockwork. By the end, she roped my grandmother into living with her, spent her days sloppy-drunk and died on her ratty couch while falling asleep and choking on her own vomit.

Before them all, the youngest of my uncles died at age two. Cancer. Never knew which one, was told it didn't matter. You didn't survive much of anything cancerous, back in the late fifties.

Ping-pong this back to three years ago, and my oldest paternal uncle dies. Paul, who smoked like a chimney for most of his life and successfully stopped after discovering Champix. He got to live five great years as the high-IQ oddball he'd always been, smoke-free. Paul was the weird bird in the family, the type to remember a really engrossing story at two in the morning and making a note to call you up first thing in the morning to share it. He always had a project of some sort to work on, like a simulated investors' tank for young entrepreneurs looking to learn the ropes, or a Byzantine arrangement of coaxials allowing four of his lakeside neighbours to pirate his cable sub. He'd invite us over for dinner, gather all the ingredients we'd need for whatever it was he wanted to treat us to - and then he'd let us cook it - just sitting by the sidelines, chatting away.

He was also a bit of a narcoleptic, and looked a bit like William Howard Taft if you'd worked him out of these old sack suits and into modern shirts and suspenders. He fell asleep practically everywhere, with his more wakeful environments being his workshop and his property's dock. He took me out fishing, once, and knew what the entire family expected.

"Oars're here, Gremlin, fish're that way. Wake me up when you've got a bite."

At this point, it wasn't even a point of concern; it was just an Uncle Paul Thing, the exact thing you'd have expected out of this kind, eccentric blob of a man whose idea of fishing involved pushing his hat over his eyes and basically all but ensuring that his roaring snores would scare prey away. He'd been a supposedly high-IQ type, terminally bored with almost everything, only really getting agitated and interested back when I asked him for help for my Junior High Computer class's Javascript calculator. Once the syntax hit something familiar and he realized that JS has some similarities with FORTRAN, he was on a roll, acting like someone had snuck a Red Bull in his coffee.

Well, fibrosis caught up with him. His last hours were spent directing us on how to cook what would've been his last meal. I think he really just wanted to know we were alright, that we still could exchange laughs around the kitchen counter. He clocked out the way he always did, except he had an oxygen tube running under his nose. His head bobbed down, he snored loudly for a few minutes, then turned increasingly quiet...

And that was it.

And now there's Isabelle. The marathoner, my partner-in-crime when it comes to professing to have a healthy diet while occasionally cheating in glorious, weekend-defining means, my gateway to cannabis and also the first person who took my cringy self-insert fanfic fodder and went No, that's worth it! Push it, develop that universe of yours!

I wouldn't be almost two-thirds of the way through my first decent manuscript, if not for her, and I wouldn't be shopping for publishers with the same energy you'd reserve for weekend-grade Facebook putzing-about. I owe her part of my self-acceptance, and part of my discovery of what defines my routine to this day. Isabelle was my first meditation coach.

And in three to five years, she might be gone.

I just thought grief might be... noisier, is all. Louder. Right now, it's just germane to confusion, and it's sitting there. There's a pinch of fear in it, too. My parents are in their mid-sixties. How long do I have left with them?!

And the family and I just covered that up with jokes and, well, cooking. I've been told I'd make a half-decent therapist but - navigating your own emotions is hard work...

I don't know. I guess I needed to put this down somewhere.

#personal life #tw: cancer mention #tw: alcoholism mention #tw: death mentions #grief #coping

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nyrator · 5 years ago

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some random spoiler-y thoughts on Japan Sinks 2020 since I just finished it

still digesting it so opinion will probably change but yeah, overall not Yuasa’s best work but still decent (about Devilman Crybaby levels)

so don’t know anything about the source material but I’ve heard it’s basically original-ish with the book going on in the background or something?

but yeah, first episode was brilliant, I enjoyed it a lot, props to whoever did that episode honestly

second episode, man, I was caught completely off guard by the ending. The fact that the family got together by some miracle, that Go wasn’t blind and no one was seriously hurt, it lured me into a false sense of security- Get to that scene at the end of episode two, see the sign, thinking, “oh man, probably poison ivy or something, an inconven-oh-OHN- . . .”, that scene was disgustingly powerful. I love how visceral yet sudden/brief the deaths are in this show, it’s gruesome, it’s unexpected, but only for a brief moment, and then it’s over.

I’m always a fan of how Yuasa handles the whole appreciation of life theme he has in his works, dude knows how to appreciate life while still depicting deaths

Things started getting a bit strange for me- the convenient store guy made me think, “man, this really is the Walking Dead without the zombies”, the convenience store was the turning point I think- no wait, the youtuber Kite was. Random rapist dude was pushing it but Kite was just, mannnn.

I imagine a lot of people like him, but god, I just couldn’t enjoy Kite’s character for some reason. He definitely gave the Youtuber vibes well (plus a lot of Ryo vibes from Devilman Crybaby), but man, dude just flies in out of nowhere and is able to solve basically any problem to such strange and extreme lengths- he felt too convenient to the story without much build-up at all.

Go’s constant Engrish (though I’ve read in passing that’s a common Filipino thing allegedly?) was also very surreal to listen to honestly, even his design felt out of place for some reason. His “death” cliffhanger had no weight, was amazed he kept his eyesight honestly. The foreign dude was also overly strange, mann.

The cult episodes were like, mannnn. Felt very surreal, wasn’t personally a fan of the direction it took. Lots of weed use though, kind of impressive for an anime. I liked the sumo dude/Go relationship, but that’s about it honestly, but all the new characters at that point- Kite, foreigner, and old man were all pretty ehhh to me- especially a cult like this only a short time after the earthquakes (maybe it started before?), mannn

honestly thought the old man hallucinated that one action scene of his, but nope, sure enough he just killed two guys, man. I did like how the leaders were likable people though, and then that betrayal for gold, told its own story but a little strange all the same.

Onodera was... interesting, at least. A bit too helpful as well, and kind of impressive, though he was a plot element so I can let that slide. Impressive he survived, honestly, like, of all people to survive, a guy who can’t even move or speak.

The boat scenes were a bit odd as well- at least, the whole nationalist ones, felt a bit too on the nose. Ayumu leaving the original boat was also a bit of a weird decision since her mother’s dying anyway, but also understandable in a sense because she’s a teenage girl who wants to be with her family, I’m okay with it, but mannn.

But yeah, boats, it was very sudden and hard to tell what was going on at first- guy pulls out a gun, then three people stranded, then old guy suddenly dies and gets eaten by a shark, man. It was nice seeing the kids interact though, trying to survive, and impressive but not crazy that the mom eventually found them, though her death felt a bit too convenient compared to the previous deaths in the series, it was still alright.

Kite though, man, just left a weird taste in my mouth. The fact that he probably survived too was really... strange, he felt like he had no real stakes, the fact they let him live and do all these crazy things was just... weird, man. Still not entirely sure what Onodera was doing with him at the end on the monitor, but yeah, just too perfect a character, too convenient.

Senpai felt like he had a bit of an odd development- almost offscreen sometimes it felt like, but it was gradual and neat. No real interaction with the main characters though, which I thought was odd, he just seemed like a love interest in a love triangle that quickly died, and then just an interest that was never really explored, but this also isn’t the place to explore it, so hm. Still, more interaction would have been nice.

Now the main character, man, she had a lot of dumb stubborn moments, but they felt real enough to me, especially a girl her age going through this- man, the guilt going through her mind, though. Abandoning her team, seeing the sign and not being able to stop her father dying from it, feeling jealous of that neighbor girl before accidentally leading her to her death (poison gas as a death felt very strange to me, but I’m not knowledgeable enough on how it works so okay), though man, the fact she told no one about her injury, not even Kite who had like a bunch of random supplies that could be useful, or the cult they stayed at, it’s like, girlll come on treat this darn leg already. It was interesting how she had her leg cut off after getting to safety, like if not for this experience, maybe she’d have quit moving forwards, who knows. Overall I was okay with her though.

Go though, man, was not a fan of that kid. The Engrish in general was very liberally used, and probably just bothers me because I’m a natural speaker, ah well.

Also, mannn. Watching that opening, and all I could think of every episode was just, “man, that poor cat...”

Overall, good work, lots of hardhitting moments, but I think I liked the first two episodes more than the rest of the series. Lots of Devilman Crybaby vibes in terms of atmosphere and art direction (and Ryo/Kite), though not a lot of the early Yuasa vibes I love him for, which is sad. He deserves a break though, hopefully the retirement isn’t permanent, but he still has some great works out there that I still love. Kaiba, Tatami Galaxy, Ping Pong, mannn. Honestly just give me another wonderful thing like Kaiba, something unique and visually pleasing and completely its own thing.

maybe one day my dreams of him directing a Yume Nikki anime will come true...

but yeah, good show overall, did enjoy it

#text stuffs

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brownskinsugarplum76 · 6 years ago

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Eye of the Storm, Ch 4

I've had much of this written for a while, but I got caught up on whether I should write in a less important part. I decided against it. So, what we have is pseudo-smut (it'll make sense shortly) and more heartfelt road trip conversation and flirting. The real-life smut should go down with the next chapter! ❤️❤️❤️

To catch up, the Eye of the Storm master post is here.

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Robert lowered himself on top of Maggie and continued his gentle thrusting. They had shared a frenzied, steamy moment earlier, and now, with that out of the way, he was expressing his feelings with every cell of his body. He was as close to her as two people could possibly be. He littered her with kisses and the tickling sensation of his long curls in constant motion, and he lulled her on the slow road to oblivion with the heat of his body and his metronome-regular strokes. Maggie telegraphed how she cared for Robert in much the same way, grasping him and meeting his movements, wishing their coupling could last forever. He growled softly in her ear and--

“--Earth to Maggie! Where'd you run off to in your head, love?” Robert gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

She jolted out of the fantasy that had occupied her mind for the last few miles on the road.

“I, uh…”

“Were you thinking about bananas and lemons, and the squeezing of lemons? Mine, to be specific?” He smiled his most mischievous smile, knowing he was right.

“Yes, Robert. You caught me thinking about tonight. You could say I'm a little impatient to be alone with you.”

“Your smile is what tipped me off. I must've been doing an exceptionally bang-up job… Rest assured, I'll meet every last one of your expectations tonight.”

He nipped at her earlobe and traced small circles on her thigh for good measure. “Quite frankly, if I was 100 percent healed, I would have asked you to pull off the road for a proper reunion a while ago, but the yoga I'd have to bend into in your darling automobile on a bum ankle…”

“Well, excuse me for not having a limo for you, Your Highness.” She gave Robert's leg a playful shove while she kept her eyes on the road, but a tiny smile was visible on her face.

“You know, you can drive us around in my Land-Rover. She's not had much of a workout in quite some time. Benji's been using his Cadillac when we go out.”

“Sure, I can do that,” she said, nodding her head.

“And then you can get your fix of me anywhere. And I of you.” His smile warmed her heart and her core at the same time. Robert was the only man who could make her feel loving and lustful at the same time. And she would never get enough of it.

“So, what have you been doing with your time off of your feet? Writing new songs? Re-reading your Tolkien books? Practicing new sexy faces for your concerts?” Maggie quickly glanced at Robert before turning her eyes back to the road.

“A little bit of this, and a little bit of that, but not much of anything productive, I'm afraid.”

He turned to Maggie, studying her familiar profile and smiling. “Well, I did write some songs, of course. One can't help but be inspired when they're living in paradise, yeah? But scenery notwithstanding, many of the songs that you'll hear on the new album do have a bit of… Angst, shall we say.”

“Pobrecito… Poor, dear Robert,” she said, glancing at him briefly. “Did it help any to get your feelings out on paper? Out of your head?”

“It did at the time, but now I hope I didn't get too moody. The fans are expecting us to serve as their aphrodisiac, as it were, not make them weep into their bloody cans of Miller.”

“I noticed that you were silent when we drove past the billboard for the album earlier. Is that why? Pre-release jitters? I'm sure it will be fine. Everyone is hungry for some new music from you all.”

“That's what G keeps saying…”

“And you don't believe it? The band with unbelievable concert attendance numbers and mountains of records sold, all without really breaking a sweat?”

“I do believe it, but… Things are different… I'm different. I won't be wild, Black Country Robert, prancing about on the stage.”

Maggie turned down the music to focus on Robert.

“Don't get me wrong, I'm going to give ‘em everything I've got, same as always, but I don't seem to have a prance left in me right now. It's going to be baby steps as I continue to heal, you know? I'll dream up a different way wiggle my ass and look good. Bonzo's right, no one will ever take that away from me, at least.”

“I, for one, am counting on some ass shaking and strong singing,” Maggie said reassuringly. “I know you'll be back to your old self once you get in front of an audience.”

“But beyond how I feel physically, I think I'm losing my zeal for tour life,” he continued. “It's not enough to just be the happy, horny kid who sang every day and partied every night, you know? I'm excited, but I'm also restless. I need to know my future has something more than singing the same songs every night, even if we do throw something a little different in here and there.”

“What do you want to do instead?” Maggie asked.

“That I don't know, Mags… For a brief moment I considered a solo album, or just saying fuck it and becoming a teacher or something, but…”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Ahhhhh… Bugger that! Enough self-pity blathering and castles in the sand…” He gestured with his hand as though the movement could cast his mood away. “I'm sure you don't want to hear all of my ‘woe is me, poor little rock star’ bullshit. I haven't even asked you about your feelings. I'm sorry, love, you're the one leaping blindly into the abyss of touring a first album. What's on your mind?”

“I am beyond excited. Everything is moving so fast, everything I'd always hoped would happen. I feel really blessed. We all do.”

“It sounds like you're going to add a ‘but’?”

“But the waiting is hard! I wish we could start tomorrow and get that first concert out of the way. I want to know if they're going to love us or not.”

“How have the album sales been?”

“There has been some interest. San Diego especially. People who know us from the dive bars down there have continued to support us.”

“What about singles? Radio play?”

“We have one single, but it seems that no one knows what to do with it. Rock radio is skittish, I think because there's a woman fronting the band. It's either that or our Latin influences that make us “unique,” as everyone likes to phrase it. But we're not getting much Latin radio play, and we're too rock for black radio… It's like we don't have a natural home or built-in audience.”

“I think there's a place for you lot. Good music always finds a way, no matter how different it is.” Robert stroked her hair reassuringly.

“From your mouth to God's ears, Robert.”

“I think you're all amazing. Your brother, his rhythm! And he hits hard, almost as hard as Bonzo. You all play so tight. You make absolute bedlam in the audience. Trust me. I was there. If your record captured any of that, and I'm sure it did, you're good as gold.”

Maggie smiled at the memory of Robert coming to one of their concerts a few years ago. The spectacle of rock royalty in the audience--he insisted on watching from the front row--did die down quickly once the concert was underway. The crowd couldn't get enough of her band, and the noise before the encore was deafening. Robert was right, it was a night that made them all believe they were on the way.

“You'll have people across the country dancing in no time. And when you strut onstage in the outfits I have in mind, if you'll have them… There might be some news reports of this Prince of Peace getting into fights over the horny hordes of fans getting too close to his woman…”

Maggie didn't know whether to laugh or thank him, or pull over to show him a different form of gratitude. “I love this fantasy you're painting, Robert.” She also liked that he called her his woman.

“Mark my words, Mags, it will be a reality.”

Her smile was uncontrollable. “Now, back to you. You know what your problem is, Robert?”

“Tell me.”

“I think you'd believe that things will go fine if someone prettier than G was trying to cheer you up.”

He stared innocently at Maggie, and she caught his puppy dog gaze in her periphery. “You? What do you have in mind for a mopey bloke like me?”

“Everything you like, Robert. I have lots of ways to make you forget all your worries.” Maggie flashed a wicked smile at Robert before turning her attention back to the road.

“Don't tease me, woman…”

She smiled smugly as she kept driving.

Robert yawned and looked out the window. They were almost at Maggie's place with her brother. She was lost in thought again, with her musings ping-ponging from sex with Robert to his fragile mood, to her own anxieties. She asked herself whether her band should be practicing more, fretted about the order of their set list, wondered if anyone would show up when they weren't in San Diego.

Her fitful rumination was interrupted by Robert's soft snore. He had fallen asleep with his head leaning against the car window.

She glanced at him briefly and smiled at how comfortable he was with her. He felt safe enough to unpack his deepest struggles, and she was delighted that he felt that way.

She was also glad that their relationship was growing stronger. They were no longer in a new acquaintance phase, for which the most mundane conversation was volleyed back and forth to prevent awkward silences. Robert could share what was on his mind, or he could sit quietly while listening to the radio or looking out the window, while he found some reassuring way to touch her.

She thought of their ease with each other in the car as the equivalent of the couples on TV who would comfortably sit side by side in bed, one person reading a book, the other doing a crossword puzzle. It was the kind of relationship she wanted with Robert. She craved a partnership of two people who felt secure enough to be vulnerable with each other or tend to their private goals and interests as needed, without straying too far from each other. He seemed as willing to live that way as much as she was.

She smiled to herself. It was exactly what she needed while everything else in her life was so uncertain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of my stories are here, or search for the hashtag #brownskinsugarplumlibrary

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reconciliationproject · 6 years ago

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WE HAVE BEEN SO EASILY MANIPULATED INTO POLITICAL AND SOCIAL SEPARATION

With our tacit agreement, we have willingly allowed ourselves to be gradually manipulated into a state of separation, with one half of our country seemingly hating, blaming, accusing and not trusting the other half. It has occurred over time and we have been numbed and force fed a steady cacophony of unrelenting, loud mouthed and shameful stream of focused diatribes, the effect of which has gradually and unerringly driven us, with our tacit consent, into separate camps that comprise our current political and social systems. Congratulations upon being herded into outcomes I don’t think any of us really desired and few of us enjoy. There are, however, means of breaking the spells that have been cast upon us and it’s not too late to remember who we are, remember what’s important and save our democracy so dangerously close to tripping off the precipice of ignorance on which we stand. What is at stake is nothing short of the democratic republic we love so much, the remembrance of who we are, the power we hold, our ability to manifest dreams and to again become aware of the inherent and intentional ability we have to realize we are all better together, not separate, and to do what is necessary to accomplish this essential task.

We have lost much of our inquisitiveness, desire and ability to define the meanings of words and labels designed to separate us into different perceived camps so there can be someone to blame and accuse for the misery and difficulties each of us has been told is present in our daily lives and in our country. We have gradually, over the years, been separated by so many so-called pundits on both the left and the right of the political spectrum. I believe this separation is for their own financial gains, with all of us acting as movable and gullible pieces on some game board. The constancy of their noisy racket, over time, has led us to believe half of our wonderful country is our enemy and think the opposite of what we believe. I don’t think this was the original goal, when the racket began, but upon realization of what effect their noise was creating led to an awareness among these self-absorbed commentators of the power their words had to disburse ideas, create loyal followers and a divided political country. Instead of offering solutions that held possibilities for a win-win for all involved, two separate camps were created in a miasma of self-indulgence, increasing riches for the mouths that sowed division while wearing down a public already worn down by over-work, parenting and trying to cope with the challenges of life itself. Along with the commentators, there has also been deafening and continuous noise from the far left and right public and congressional political groups, who only want things their way, neglecting compromise and also working to drown out reasonable thoughts that strive for win-win outcomes. As a result, so many people have forfeited their ability to think for themselves and to determine their own beliefs and values in the multiple roles each plays in life. In a world-weary and worn-out state, the words of blaming and accusing gradually began to inform us that our misery was caused by those who do not fully agree with us. The manipulation was gradual, constant and perpetuated for the developing greed and power that resulted.

The belief that half of our country is our enemy and think the opposite of what we believe began with the assignment of labels designed to create an enemies list and someone on whom blame can be placed. Labels like conservatives, liberals, independents, socialists, libertarians, communists, far-left, far-right, and others, have been applied to very large swaths of the population and our beliefs in how those labels are defined, as well as what spews forth from the divisive commentators’ mouths, serves to illustrate the idiocy and ignorance of our own reactions and beliefs. Yet so many have taken these selfish assertions as truths and then spout them out of their own mouths, while our numbed-out ability to think on our own and discern truths from fiction have reduced so many to being on some kind of thinking auto-pilot function. We have Democrats blaming Republicans, Republicans blaming Democrats, Independents laughing at and blaming both and all creating a recycling whirlpool of blame. Also in the mix are those who are angry and blame everyone else for their discomfort, while seeking to align with others of similar thoughts, for security and validation, while showing little interest in solutions. Expressing anger can provide some temporary relief from stress, as the energy required to express anger serves to reduce high levels of inner stress a bit. However, the relief is short lived and is only a dysfunctional form of self-care, as it does little to deal with the core of suppressed anger. In my personal and professional experience, I have found that there are two primary emotions underlying, sadness and fear. Those emotions, which so many are uncomfortable acknowledging, honoring and expressing, remain silent and propel the outward coverup and expression of anger, which is in great supply these days.

In spite of the loud verbal assaults thrown back and forth, there are very few who actually reside on the far left and far right political extremes, though their volumes turn up to shout are heard and cause a loud reaction from the opposite extreme. The shouts are duly picked up and sensationalized by the media, who are seemingly so interested in creating sensational stimulation that only adds to the confusing, mind and soul numbing noise that enters our ears and surrounds us on a 24-hour basis. All of this crap is conveyed by different mouths and intents, as a supposed component and illustration of truth, which furthers ignorance, perpetuates resistance and looks for someone to blame for all of the political excrement in which we find ourselves walking, listening and existing, while yearning for peace, calm and wisdom. We are beaten into submission by this constant chatter and surrender our abilities to reason and think for ourselves, as we find ourselves spouting the lines fed to us by commentators. Our surrender, acquiescence and parroting vocabulary is the reward these selfish, self-absorbed dividers seek and the corresponding and horrible cycle set on the repeat mode keeps their words flowing in a recurring pattern and cycle that always produces the same, numbing results. This is what happens when we allow ourselves to be hammered verbally and visually with the blaming and accusing verbiage that goes back and forth like a ping pong ball and eventually leaves us with the sense of mental numbness and fatigue, an induced state for us so sought after by those who profit from our divide. What is being created is a state of fear, with the hope we will stop thinking for ourselves and simply allow them to think for us and have us parrot their self-purported wisdom.

By far, what perpetuates this constant flow of dung is the financial reward the commentators, networks and media have amassed and seek to increase. In this process, which often creates a sense of anger, hopelessness, helplessness, sadness and resentment, we seem to forget our own fervent beliefs about life, what we think is important and the ethical, spiritual and moral values we have developed for ourselves from whatever spiritual and religious tenets-- most of which speak of love, and the importance it might play in our time in life--and place them on hold, or in the background, as the garbage of separation and fear takes over out thoughts, behaviors and responses. In this mental, emotional and physical turmoil, the one thing that seldom appears are real solutions to problems that offer win-win outcomes. The lack of solutions continues to keep the commentators’ pockets lined with financial riches and perpetuates the cycles that enrich misery and themselves, in turn. We ALL have something to contribute and our country has become powerful because we have allowed and counted upon that for ideas and wisdom. Let’s get our thoughts, beliefs, hearts and democracy refurbished, refilled and into play. We ALL have something to contribute. Let’s work to make sure everybody gets to make their own contribution and all are able to participate.

The simple truth is, again, that very few of us are in the political far-right or far-left. Those who reside in those factions are often called activists or radicals and their shouts tend to get a lot of media attention and thrives on sensational and stimulating. Their voices can drown out voices of moderation and compromise. However, there are important roles for activists and radicals to play. Often there are worthy thoughts in their ideas. Indeed, this country was helped along in its creation by such radicals as Samuel Adams and others. Most of us find ourselves on a political continuum floating back and forth between the extremes of conservative and liberal beliefs, depending on the issues. Some are more conservative financially and then may be more liberal regarding some social issues. We slide back and forth along the long line that stretches between the extremes, depending on the issue, yet these separating and dividing pundits want to offer only the idea that we are either/or on all issues. That is a lie! Don’t fall into that trap. If we can be convinced that half of the country is our enemy, then discussion with the other side is made to seem wrong, or weak, and moderation, on any issue, is labeled a betrayal or traitorous just to keep us in line. Demanding a single line of thought or philosophy does not describe a democracy, but rather a dictatorship or an autocracy.

in listening effectively. Our democracy was built on the idea of talking, listening and negotiation, which seems to have broken down on so many levels at this time. Sharing and discussing ideas is what leads to negotiating, creating multi-partisan support and crafting win-win outcome. It is important to revive that result. Without it we have no democracy and we do disservice and dishonor to any responsible role we might play in creating win-win outcomes that work for all.

Let’s bring civility and kindness into fashion, role model it ourselves then expect and demand our leader do the same. Let’s discuss changes for the good that can include ideas of all political persuasions and serve the common good, not just the good of a few. Let’s work to re-introduce self-responsibility and honor back into our own lives, into our country and into this wonderful world we share with so many others. Let’s begin to think for ourselves, with our heads and our hearts and from the seat of spiritual and Divine Loving Kindness we each are at the center of our being. When you listen to talk that is not centered there, and offers no loving and win-win solutions, ask yourself is any of it produces loving kindness outcomes. If not, change the channel or turn it off. Begin to also be aware of how uncomfortable it might feel to begin to think and talk in terms of Love and Loving Kindness. Is there anything in those terms that might be bad, as part of any thoughts, input, ideas or solutions that might be proposed or adopted? Remember, OUR BELIEFS ARE WHAT WE DO. THEY ARE OUR BEHAVIORS, OUR ACTIONS, OUR WORDS. Observe your behaviors and speech and determine whether or not those beliefs are in line with what you truly believe and value. If not, take ideas that seem appealing and put them into practice in your life. If you continue to repeat them then they can eventually become true beliefs. Get off auto-pilot and begin to be consciously aware of your behaviors and your speech and present yourself in the present moment as a reflection of your intentional values and beliefs. Your true wisdom is within, not without. Together let’s create a better place in which we live and make intentional changes that benefit all. Let’s give up living in fear, anger, resentment, blaming and accusing others. Begin to clear the air and remember WE ARE ALL BETTER TOGETHER, NOT SEPARATE. Take good care and let’s begin to create and demand intentional good in ourselves and our leaders.

For more thoughts, go to my blog: TheReconciliationProject.net

#politics #loving kindness #selfimprovement #better together blogger writer

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all-the-love-harold · 7 years ago

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The Daily Anna - Chapter 5

I’m sorry that this one has taken so long (I say that every time, I know) but a massive shout out has to go to @lovesmelikebrandnewstarlight who is an absolute angel and helps me out when I get stuck.

Please let me know your thoughts

Master Post

June 20th New York.

“Central Park please” Harry said to the driver who did a double take when he saw Harry’s face as they climbed into the yellow taxi.

“Are you sure this is a good idea Harry?” Anna asked as she stared out the window at the buildings that towered around them.

“It’s an awful idea,” he said looking at her with a smirk plastered onto his face “but you can’t go to New York without going to Central Park.”

“What happened to not getting seen together?” She questioned. Not that she cared that much about being linked to him, but she understood why he wanted to keep it quiet for now.

“We can’t live our lives under a rock, sooner or later,they’re going to find out.” The park appeared in their view and Harry picked up Anna’s bag before she had the chance to fight him on it, “and I want to take you to Central Park, so I guess it will be sooner” he placed a kiss on her forehead and paid the taxi driver using his card.

They stepped out of the cab and Anna felt her stomach drop as she realised how many young girls were hanging around the area. It didn’t seem to phase Harry though, he simply held onto Anna’s hand, without a care who saw it. They walked along in silence for a while, until they got to the spot where they were meant to meet Mitch and Sarah and much to Anna’s surprise, not one person stopped them, she did catch a few people doing the same double take that the taxi driver had when they got into the car, but no one seemed to care that he was with her.

“This seems like a nice spot,” Harry said, sitting himself down on an open patch of grass, basking in the sunlight.

Anna joined him, sitting cross legged by his side. “How late are we thinking Mitch and Sarah will be?”

“If Mitch has any say in it, they’ll be on time, but I don’t think Mitch gets a say” Harry laughed

Anna nodded “I think you might be wrong there”, she pointed towards the two figures walking towards them.

“Don’t tell Mitch I said that!” he whispered into her ear as he stood up to greet them. Anna was nervous not only about getting spotted and ambushed by Harry’s fans, but also about spending this much time with Sarah. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her, it was quite the opposite actually, she really wanted to be friends with her, but she found her intimidating and even more so when Mitch was around. In the three weeks that Anna had spent on tour with Harry so far, she had gotten close with Clare and even Helene, but she hadn’t been able to talk to Sarah.

“There’s an amazing hotdog stand not far from here” Mitch said as Anna tuned back into the conversation.“They even have vegan options,” he looked at Sarah knowing there was no way she’d be eating a hot dog, or letting him for that matter.

“Well I did promise Anna the full New York experience” Harry said looking at Anna

“I’m not that hungry,” she admitted “I’ll just have some of yours”

Harry looked at her, a little concerned by the lack of food she’d eaten over the last few days.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah” she smiled “I’m fine, just can’t eat a hot dog that big”

A smile stretched across Mitch's face “You sure about that Anna?”

Anna’s cheeks flushed red and she rolled her eyes at him as Harry cackled at the joke.

“Should we go then?” Sarah interrupted looking at Anna with a smile. The boys nodded and Harry grabbed Anna’s hand once again. Jokes like that didn’t usually bother Anna, but her and Harry were yet to sleep together, in fact, it had been almost a year since Anna had slept with anyone, and the last thing she wanted was for it to be awkward when it finally happened with Harry.

The hotdog stand sat near a bridge and more open grass, but there were a lot more people around and one of them, just happened to recognise Harry.

“Harry?” the girl said as she got closer to them.

He held onto Anna’s hand a little tighter, which is the last thing she expected him to do, she figured if any fan even looked at them then he would drop her hand.

“Hi,” he said softly, not wanting to be rude, but suddenly very aware that this was the first time he’d ever been out in public with Anna.

“Oh my god it is you, I wasn’t sure if it was, didn’t think you’d be in Central Park”

“When in town..” he smiled “What’s your name love?”

“Jessica,” she said, tears forming in her eyes “I’ve been a fan since the beginning, shit I never thought I’d get to meet you”

“Thank you” Harry smiled and dropped Anna’s hand, opening his arms to hug the girl “bring it in” he said and she did, she hugged him as the tears spilled out of her eyes and he wouldn’t let go until she did.

“Can I get a photo?” she asked as she pulled away, carelessly shoving her phone into Anna’s hand. She was a little taken aback by the gesture, but she took the shots anyway, as both Harry and the girl smiled for the camera. Sarah and Mitch had ducked away to avoid taking photos too and were already busy getting their food, so Anna stood awkwardly as Harry said goodbye.

“See,” he said once she was out of earshot “She didn’t even notice”

“People are going to care eventually Harry” Anna took his hand again

“That’s fine by me” he leant down and kissed her cheek “now are you sure you don’t want anything?”

“Yeah” she nodded “I’m not hungry”

“We don’t have to get hot dogs, we can get something else if you’d prefer?” He knew she hadn’t eaten much breakfast this morning and he was starting to get worried about her.

“Hot dogs are fine Haz, I’ll have a bite of yours but I’m really not hungry”

“You didn’t eat breakfast” he said looking concerned

“I had a banana”

“Doesn’t count, what’s going on love?”

“Apparently I don’t deal well with jetlag”

He nodded “We can go home and nap if you want?”

“Get your food first” she smiled.

If she was honest, she was over the jetlag, it had been three weeks, but the constant travel was getting to her and now that her and Harry were sharing a room, she was having trouble sleeping, she wasn’t used to having someone sleeping next to her and Harry snored louder than she thought humanly possible. She wasn’t hungry because she was tired and she was tired because she needed her space, but she didn’t want to be away from Harry.

Mitch and Sarah had already sat down in a shady spot under a tree and were quite content with each other. Harry looked at Anna and then at his two bandmates and back to Anna.

“They’re happy over there, let’s go home and we’ll order something in”

***

Anna had woken up feeling wonderful this morning, but by the time 6pm rolled around she was feeling ill again and she had no idea why. She slept like a baby last night and she’d even eaten breakfast, which isn’t something she did when she was home, she usually skipped straight to lunch but this morning Harry had insisted on cooking her breakfast and she had to admit he was a pretty good cook.

But it was 6:30 pm now and she was sitting backstage at Madison Square Garden, her laptop open to a blank document, sipping on a green tea, hoping that it would make her feel better, or at least inspire her to write something. Since being on tour with Harry her blog had taken a backseat, she had a lot to write about and things she’d love to share with her followers, but she couldn’t because no one knew there was anything going on with her and Harry. Of course there were the few fans that had their suspicions, but no one believed that they were actually dating, as far as his fandom was concerned, he was still with Camille and Anna was happy to leave it at that for a little while longer but that did make it hard for her to write blog posts about her travels. She didn’t doubt that those with suspicions would compare her itinerary to Harry’s and realise that it was exactly the same.

“Clarrrre” Anna moaned as Clare sat down next to her

“Annnnna” she mimicked Anna’s tone and rested her head on the table.

“I don’t have anything to write about!”

Clare sat up and looked around the room “Ping Pong,” she laughed and pointed at the rather intense ping pong competition that Harry had organised.

Anna thought for a minute, “I think too many Harry fans know about the ping pong thing”

“And?” Clare said. “They also think he was dating Camille”

“I like that it’s our secret for now,” she admitted.

“He really likes you Anna” Clare said, lowering her voice so that no one could hear them “I’ve only known him for two years, but I’ve never seen him act the way he does around you.”

“Don’t you find it strange that he had Camille on the first half of the tour and now I’m here?” This was something that Anna hadn’t really been able to let go of, as much as she liked Harry, she couldn’t help but see Ronnie’s point, she was just a tour buddy, once it all ends and he can go back to his normal life Anna would be forgotten about.

“I don’t know much about what happened between them” Clare admitted “but I know that for most of the European leg, he did whatever he could to avoid being alone with her and after that she disappeared.”

“He told me it was all sex”

“Exactly. I don’t think it’s weird that you’re here now An, I think he likes you enough to try and make it work, but he had the next few months of his life already set out for him and the only way he could make it work with you is to have you here”

“You might be right”

“I don’t want to be invasive or anything, but have you two had sex yet?”

“No” Anna blushed “there’s been a few times when it could have happened but we both made excuses”

“That’s good” Clare nodded “means there’s more to the relationship, but don’t let it go to long”

“It’s mostly my fault, I keep chickening out” as close as she’d gotten to Clare over the last few weeks, this was the first time they’d spoken about anything like this and she felt a little weird about it considering Harry was technically Clare’s boss.

“Why?” she didn’t seem phased by the conversation.

“It’s been almost a year” Anna hid her face in her hands “what if they’ve changed it?”

Clare giggled and put her hand on Anna’s back, “I assure you, it hasn’t changed”

“Oi Elliot”, Harry called across the room bringing their conversation to an end as Anna turned around to face him.

“Oi Styles” Anna called back, a grin on her face

“You’re up love,” he twisted the ping pong bat in his hand and picked up the other one,holding it out to her

She shut her laptop and stood up, making her way towards him.

“I don’t think I’ve played ping pong since I was about 10,” she said taking the bat off him

“I’ll be gentle,” he winked at her and Clare started giggling from the sidelines “What’s gotten into her?” he asked

“Oh, we were just having a chat”, Anna smiled “Now it’s game on Styles.”

Harry had his game face on, and so did Anna, even though she’s avoided ping pong at all costs since the beginning of the tour. Sports had never been her thing and she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of him but today was different. She knew how nervous he was about this show and she thought that maybe this would keep him distracted before he had to go on stage.

“You call that a trick shot Styles?” Anna said as she hit the ball back to him

“No”, he smirked “I’m being gentle” and with that he used all the power in his right hand to hit the ball back to Anna. She hadn’t been expecting it to be going so fast so when she swung her arm, she missed, the little orange ball sped right past her and Harry burst out laughing.

“What happened to being gentle?” she pouted as she turned around to fetch the ball.

“Well I’m not going to just let you win love” he shrugged “so are we going to play properly? Or are you forfeiting now?”

“I don’t give up that easily”

“Don’t you?” he laughed “I seem to remember you giving up on uni pretty easily”

Anna gritted her teeth through a giggle “Oh it’s on Styles”

She threw the ball up to serve but missed on the swing. Harry raised his eyebrows and held back a laugh but he didn’t say anything, he simply put his bat down and walked around the table so that he was standing behind Anna.

“Let me show you” he wrapped his arms around her and adjusted her hands on the paddle. “Line the ball up with your paddle” he said,picking the ball up and placing it directly on the paddle “and then when you throw it up, don’t take your eyes off it, the rest will just happen” He took a step back and watched as Anna did what he told her. It worked and Anna hit the ball across the room.

“Ayy” he smiled “That’s it love. Now” he picked up his own paddle again “It’s game on”

He picked the ball up again and threw it back to her so that she could serve it.

Harry wasn’t going easy on her, his competitive side was definitely shining as the crew all gathered around to watch.

“Come on Anna,” Clare called when the score was even. “Finish him off!”

“Absolutely not,” Harry smirked and hit the ball to Anna’s left, so hard that she missed it and it fell to the floor.

“Sorry,” he shrugged

“No you’re not” she moved around to his side of the table and wrapped her arms around him.

“You’re right” he placed a kiss onto her forehead “I have to go get ready now, you coming?”

“Yeah” she nodded “I’ll have a nap on that couch while you do your thing”

“You feeling ok?” he asked taking her hand and heading towards the dressing rooms

“Not wonderful, but I’m ok”

***

Madison Square Garden, night two. Anna was standing in the crew area near the b-stage, with Anne right next to her and they were both emotional. Anne had been crying pretty much all night and Anna couldn’t help but smile up at Harry on the stage.

“We’re going to do an extra one for you tonight” Harry said into the mic and the crowd went wild. Anna knew exactly what was coming, one of her favourites parts about this tour was watching the soundcheck every night. It reminded her of the night they met and the way that he’d smile at her from up there still gave her butterflies, and she guessed that was a good thing.

“This was the first song he knew all the words to” Anne smiled, placing her hand over her heart as he began singing Shania Twain’s ‘Still the One’ “and now look at him”

“Looks like he made it Anne,” Anna wrapped her arm around Anne’s shoulder and they both started swaying along to the music. As she watched Harry up on the stage she couldn’t help but picture him as a three or four year old sitting in the back of his mum’s car mumbling along to the song, making up his own phrases for the ones that he couldn't quite make out or understand and she felt an enormous sense of pride. She’d only known him for a few months, but she couldn’t help but see how far he’d come, from being that little boy that sang along to his mum's favourite songs in the back of the car, to standing on stage at Madison Square Garden singing not only the entirety of his album but also the songs that got him there to a sold out room with just about every person singing those lyrics back.

Harry wasn’t looking out into the crowd much but when he did, he was looking for Anna, but he couldn’t see her because of the stage lights.

Ain't nothin' better

We beat the odds together

I'm glad we didn't listen

Look at what we would be missin'

Anna stewed on those lyrics for a second. She still didn’t really know what Harry was to her, but he wouldn’t be anything if she listened to Ronnie. Imagine if she did, she would be sleeping alone in her London flat, without ever having experienced Harry on tour and that wasn’t something she wanted to think about. In some ways, Anna was glad that it took as long as it did for their paths to cross, but it baffled her that it didn’t happen before then. Her and Harry grew up parallel to each other, in opposite towns, doing the same things with their time but Anna spent all her time with Ronnie and maybe she shouldn’t have.

The final notes of the song echoed around the arena and Anne turned and hugged Anna.

“Thank you dear,” she said trying to choke back tears “it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him this happy”

“It’s all him Anne” Anna really didn’t think that Anne should be thanking her, she hadn’t really done anything.

“No” she wiped a tear away “no love, you’ve helped.”

“Well I’m having the best time being on tour with him” Anna smiled, and it was true, these last few weeks had been the most fun she’d had in years.

“You’re a wonderful girl Anna, your mum must be so proud”

Anna smiled at Anne but she didn’t say anything, because if she was honest, she didn’t know if her mum was proud of her, she was supportive as hell and allowed her to do what she thought was best, but she wasn’t sure that proud was an emotion her mother felt towards her.

“We should go backstage now dear” Anne put her hand on Anna’s shoulder while Harry introduced Kiwi, pulling her away from her thoughts. They ducked out of the booth and snuck backstage together while the crowd was distracted enough not to notice and as the made their way through the hallways it dawned on Anna that she hadn’t checked her phone all day, she couldn’t even remember where she put it but she guessed that it was somewhere in Harry’s dressing room.

“I’m going to wait near the stage dear, to meet him when he comes off” Anne said, turning down the hallway that lead to the stage area.

“I’m just going to find my phone and I’ll meet you there” Anna turned on her heel and opened the door to Harry’s dressing room.

Her phone was sitting on the table buzzing like crazy, which was odd because it was the early hours of the morning in the UK and she didn’t have anyone in the US that would be trying to contact her. She picked it up and saw thousands of twitter notifications and furrowed her brow as she unlocked her phone. No one ever tweeted her, she got the occasional mention from one of her blogger friends, but other than that it was pretty quiet, her followers mostly interacted on instagram or directly on her blog.

“No. Fuck” she breathed when she saw what it was. Pictures of her and Harry, snuggled up in Central Park. This is exactly what she was trying to avoid, it would get her attention for all of the wrong reasons and the last thing she wanted was for Harry’s fans to get the wrong idea about her. Her name was trending at #3 and she’d gained thousands of new followers across all of her social media but she refused to check the comments, she didn't want to know what people were saying about her.

Her head was spinning, she felt ill again and she had to find Harry. She pushed the door open and the hallway was crowded again which she knew meant the show was over and she maneuvered herself through the crew members without looking up.

“Whoa” an unfamiliar voice sounded and someone grabbed her shoulder “slow down, you’re going to run into someone”

Anna looked up to see Camille Rowe standing in front of her, holding onto her shoulder, a smile spread across her face.

“I haven’t met you, are you new to the crew?” she said, her tone overly sweet

“No” Anna said bluntly “Harry and I are dating.” This wasn’t entirely true, they’d been on a few dates, but nothing was official yet

“Oh” Camille seemed shocked by this and that made Anna wonder if Harry had really broken up with her like he said he did on their first date. Before she had a chance to say anything more though, Jeff stepped past them on his way to see Harry and Anna pulled him aside.

“Jeffy” she said and Camille scoffed at the nickname. “Have you seen this?”

Anna handed him her phone and his face fell the minute he saw the pictures.

“Does H know?”

“No” Anna shook her head “they must have come out while he was on stage”

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” he handed her the phone back

“Together?” Anna smiled hopefully at him.

“Let’s go then” he smiled and then pointed to Camille “How did you get back here?”

“The door” she said sarcastically.

“Joe” Jeff said the the security guard that was standing within ear shot “she’s not on the list anymore”

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bears-in-the-city · 3 years ago

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A little late for response, but way she goes.

DID for us is isolation and fear. It's the feeling that you can never seek help, or you'll destroy yourself, and not being able to be honest with the people you love the most. I don't think i could ever share with the people in my life what goes on in my head. It's the fear that in doing what the majority of the system needs and craves, you're torturing other parts, and there's nothing you can do. That one day those parts will give up and destroy everything you've built, run, or try something really... Bad.

It's switching in the wrong people for the job, and feeling separate from other people and what you could normally do because of it. It's being friends with people, and then an alter switches in that can't socialize well, and you can feel how painful it is for them to be trapped with people they care for but can't relate to.

It's the dissonance of wanting different things, different goals, and different futures, and wondering how you'll achieve anything you could all exist in. It's giving in to the realization that you'll just be an untethered ghost, no matter where you go, ready to leave at any moment, fall off the face of the Earth, even from those you've known for years.

It's confusion, denial, and not knowing who you are and who you've been. It's looking back over the misty plain of years you remember and not being able to attribute most of it to yourself, or even recognize that it happened. It's the confusion changing with whichever person looks.

It's being able to forget people so, so, so close to you, that you love so much, after they leave for a few days. People that you love so much and can't bear to leave just vanishing from thought and longing so quickly. Not being able to explain why it's been 4 months since you've called, and that yes, you do still love them.

It's being confronted with things you didn't realize were traumas, that knock you out of commission and destabilize you for days after. It's looking at your abusers and having parts scream "They're the best thing that ever happened to me; I love them," and others "They're the worst thing that ever happened to me; get me away," just as loud at each other. It's *constant* conflict and having to catch yourself from throwing yourself into situations just to feel something.

It's alters getting into huge fights, and bulldozing any other parts that may just be trying to exist. It's one part subduing everyone else and blocking them from awareness (very painful) because they feel the others aren't good enough for the job.

It's forgetting critical things, what you did today, the most important days of your life, very important developmental events for you and your loved ones. Not remembering something you just did or needed, not even remembering what you've forgotten. It's scrambling not to let others see you've forgotten, so they can't take advantage of you, or think you unreliable.

It's wondering if there could be someone no one else has met, after all, and what that could mean. Ping-ponging between emotions more extreme that you even imagined, deep exhaustion after having to feel.

Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful. I know that being the way that we are was a way to survive, and I don't really wish I weren't a system. I can't really imagine how that experience could differ, to be honest. Imagining losing them terrifies me more that most things.

DID for us is also singing together to music, learning instruments to play together. Knowing you aren't really alone, and being able to often turn to someone at night when you're scared or cold. It's siblings dancing with each other to music and being so happy. It's compromise and taking and giving duties that would be too much for one person. It's heart-felt conversations as you gaze out the window of a plane over a glistening shelf of clouds. It's advice, and support, people to comfort you and support you, and relationships inimitable by anything else that could exist outside.

It's definitely not something anyone should ever crave or ever want, and honestly, sometimes it's a little too much to take, but it won't change, I think.

What does having DID/OSDD look like for you?

People with DID/OSDD, come share your experience! July 4th is the first day of Summer System Education Week. To kick off this week, I want to use my blog to give your voices a platform!

Comment on or reblog this post & express what having DID/OSDD (or any similar dissociative disorder) looks like for you! Do it through writing, poetry, art, or anything that you want! You can be as dark or as positive as you like; share as much or as little as you want. Just remember that there is no “right” or “wrong”. DID/OSDD are very complex disorders.

If you want to share anonymously, my askbox/submission are open!

#actually dissociative #dissociative identity disorder #actuallydid #actuallyosdd

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dramayeoja · 6 years ago

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Goblin ❣︎ 도깨비

Kim Shin, an undefeated war general, is ultimately killed by a jealous young king named Wang Yeo. After death, Shin is revived by the gods—but his revival is by no means miraculous. He becomes a 도깨비 (dokkaebi, goblin), and is cursed. He will have to pay for all the lives he took in battle by living alone in immortality, witnessing everyone he's ever loved, die. Remaining lodged in his chest is the very sword that killed him. There is only person who can see that sword, and draw from his heart so that he can finally rest in peace: his bride... whom he's yet to meet.

Things get spoilery under the cut—you've been warned! ;)

Chipper, yeah? Haha so, right off the bat, the premises of Goblin remind me of like, a much more morbid version of the legend of King Arthur. You know, a man draws a sword from stone to prove himself the greatest king in all of Britain? Yeah. Just to be clear: this is a good thing (imo). Like, I personally think this is just such a cool idea for a drama 😍

Let's jump right in. I'm gonna be honest and say that, at first, I felt a little turned off at the female lead, Eun Tak, being nineteen (in the beginning of the show), meanwhile the male lead, Shin, is 900+ years old (but physically looks to be in his thirties). It just... rubbed me weird. But hey, the Twilight series (both the books and the movies) is exactly the same—high school girl, century-old man, bananas yet somehow romantic storyline... And I loved me some Twilight as a young adult. So I mean, I have no right to judge, really. Plus, Eun Tak soon turns twenty anyway. So that's an improvement I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️ We follow her character into her late twenties, nearly thirty. So things are definitely fine by then haha! 👍

Don't let that previous bit make you think I didn't enjoy Goblin—I LOVED it. That detail is just a lil funky to me, is all. Back during my Twilight obsession days, I was nearly twenty myself, and the thought of being pursued by an older man was exciting. Hell, I mean, it still is! But now that I'm two years shy of my 30th Birthday, I feel differently sometimes. I think, LAWD get that girl away from that man, she too young for him LOL. I am definitely getting old... Enough about Twilight now, apologies! I'm only using it for the sake of conveying similarities seen in Goblin 🙏 Let's talk cast!

Kim Go Eun as Ji Eun Tak and Gong Yoo as Kim Shin

Eun Tak is a bubbly young woman with limitless energy! While still in her mother's womb, Mama Ji was involved in a hit-and-run incident which, sadly, took her life. During Mama Ji's dying moments, she prayed to anyone above that her child's life be spared. Sat on a rooftop from afar, beer in hand (lol), Shin hears her prayers, as he is a god of sorts. He appears before Mama Ji, and shows mercy to her unborn baby. Eun Tak grows up with the ability to see/speak to ghosts. Said ghosts tell her constantly that she is the goblin's bride. How do they know? A strange birthmark on the back of Eun Tak's neck tips them off. Eun Tak unfortunately was taken in by her abusive bitch of an aunt, who jabs Eun Tak every chance she gets. Her cousins are assholes. Eun Tak's aunt really only keeps her around in hopes of collecting Mama Ji's savings (intended for Eun Tak) one day. Sad, right? I mean, isn't Eun Tak being born without her mother enough as it is? Life can be so cruel 😔

Lee Dong Wook as Grim Reaper/Reaper/Wang Yeo

This is Grim Reaper (or Reaper for short), portrayed by the handsome Lee Dong Wook. His character is just this strange, not at all tech-savvy man with a constant deadpan facial expression. Said facial expression provokes so many giggles during funny moments, and drives home the longing and desperation during sad times. We learn quite a ways in that he, in his previous life (again, just in case: spoiler), was Wang Yeo G A S P ! The young king that is essentially responsible for Shin's death, as well as all the misdeeds that were done to Shin's family. Again, this is something I don't want to spoil. Well, more, anyway 😆 You gotta see it!

Yoo In Na as Kim Sun/Sunny

Kim Sun, or simply, Sunny (she loves to spell her name for people lol, S-U-N-N-Y!) is the second female lead. Yoo In Na is so gorgeous that one look at her makes you feel like such a potato hahhah. 🥔 This fact about her beauty bleeds over into the show itself—every time another character meets Sunny, the camera does this slow motion pan into her lmao. She really is that pretty! Sunny's personality comes across so odd at first... Having watched all of the episodes now, I feel the intention of Goblin's creators was to make her seem like a soul searching for something it has lost in a previous life. idk if that makes sense, but yeah. She has this way about her, like she's disconnected from others, and is sifting through the haziness to find this thing she feels she's lost.

Yook Sungjae (my BtoB bias 😍) as Yoo Deok Hwa

Sungjaeeee ahhhh 💘💘💘 I had to gush, sorry! Hehe. Meet Deok Hwa: unofficial nephew of Shin. Deok Hwa is a third-generation chaebol (heir to a family-owned corporation) and spoiled man-child, always seeking his credit card hahaha 🤣 But I love him so much. Between Gong Yoo, Lee Dong Wook, and BtoB Sungjae? Man, I'm dying over here! Deok Hwa's true identity is revealed later in the show, which if you haven't seen it yet, I won't spoil it. Just watch. But his ending sucked. Like where did he go? Everyone else's endings got tied up neatly except for his. What gives, man? 🤔 Edit: I was actually reading an online conversation about what happened to Deok Hwa online—someone jokingly said he was reincarnated as BtoB Sungjae LOL 💯

Other various comments

AMAZING OST 😍😍😍

Good pace, episodes drag at times. A little confusing in the beginning, but you get there eventually. Maybe this is just me though, viewers who are a little more keen than I will likely catch on sooner ;) My mom was a little confused as well, and actually said at one point, "This should be called the 'what-the-hell-is-going-on' show," hahaha. Like I said though, we quickly moved on from this, and loved all the things. There are actually, I think, three (?) specials that were made to aid viewers in making sure they understand the complex events and relationships clearly. I haven't watched them yet, but want to!

Quite repetitive tbh, as there are unnecessary flashbacks often. Probably for two reasons: the obvious of reminding you what's what, but also to create suspense. Typical duration of most tvN dramas seems to be about 16 episodes, so it's possible these flashbacks and things are, for lack of a better word, filler. I don't know how rigid or lax tvN is about having a drama set at 16 eps, but I get the idea this is their preference. Seeing as so many of their programs on average last that long, I feel this must be what they want. Such has the potential to affect the writing, either positively or negatively.

A continuation of the previous bullet: I think Goblin's creators oversimplified the plot at times. I'm unsure if this is due to possible pressures to meet a specific requirement(s), or what. I'd rather forgo ALL restrictions and let creativity flow, let the story be told without pressure to fill a specific amount of time, etc. but TV production is weird. And contracts are weird. tvN might not to blame for these issues, could simply be that storytelling isn't always easy, man. I'm a writer myself, it's hard! I'M being redundant now lmfao! Anyway, yeah ~

Absolutely LOVED all the scenes that were filmed on location in beautiful Québec City, Canada 🍁 Tall, romantic trees, the fall foliage, historic buildings... sigh. Now all I need is Gong Yoo chasing me and we're all set! ;D

In addition to Shin being revived, my crush on Gong Yoo has been revived as well LOL. He fine 🔥 A classic K drama crush, can't go wrong with GY👌

Gong Yoo is always stellar at doing kiseu (kiss) scenes, and in Goblin, he does not disappoint. He really goes at it 🙈 which is preferred vs. the typical person kissing a stone statue that you see so often. He even did a lift kiss with Kim Go Eun that was reminiscent of THEE Coffee Prince kiss he did with actress Yoon Eun Hye! 😍

I never saw it coming, how the sword would wind up being removed from Shin's chest. I worried what the writers were going to do, how would they approach this, and just wow. The way things turned out is such a relief. It also told me that Shin's love for Eun Tak is true. I mean, I didn't need that scene to occur for me to know that, rather it just adds extra oomph that yes, Shin really does love Eun Tak. He didn't want her to suffer knowing she was responsible for his "death," so he thought quick and used her hands WITH his hands asdfghjkl. How dumb (bc noooo now you're gonna die) and amazing he is at the same time 💜

I love how Shin made his way back to Eun Tak after passing away, it was such a powerful scene. I could really feel his struggle, and kept yelling at my TV for him to stand up lol!

Devastated that Eun Tak died 😭 I really thought as many times as she'd cheated death before, she would somehow continue cheating death again and again for the rest of her days. But no... What a selfless person, Ji Eun Tak. Her being reincarnated as Park So Min gave me some closure. Not the closure I wanted, but closure.

The relationship between Shin and Reaper is ADORABLE. Whenever they interact with each other, they just have this great dialogue. Shin pings, Reaper pongs, Reaper pings, Shin pongs. It's great 😄 I still laugh about the slow-mo scene of them returning from the market with green onions HAHAHA 😂

I love Sunny & Reaper ~ However, their history as Kim Sun & Wang Yeo in their past lives is so very sad. I don't even know where to start RE: my feelings on this 💔 imo, their ending kinda sucked. I just wasn't satisfied with them having had this complicated, tragic story, only to be reincarnated in this fashion that I ultimately found to be just... idk, disappointing 😩 Again, closure, but not the closure I wanted.

I thought Reaper, the other grim reapers, the name cards, the depiction of what happens immediately following death with the brewing of the tea, the afterlife, etc. was all very creative. We really don't know what awaits us when our time comes—it's interesting to wonder if it's anything like it is in Goblin 🍵

Can't stop thinking about Goblin, even though I'm now watching Thirty but Seventeen & Mr. Sunshine! I'm emotionally cheating lol halp.

Photo credits: tvN & AsianWiki

Yo yo! I'm sorry I took so long to watch + write up this review! It's been a long couple of weeks for me, I wasn't always able to watch when I wanted. It was maddening 😆 But I have finally watched, and feel like the most accomplished person on the planet hahaha. xoxo 💜

#goblin #도깨비 #asian dramas #korean dramas #tvn

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neelimasadanand · 7 years ago

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What Is Up With Me

A year since medication began. And in its wonderful and weird ways, the universe has brought more mental health soldiers into my life this past year than ever before. And if there’s one of thing I’m more sure of now than ever - it’s the sheer power of being in an environment that shows you empathy. A few interactions I’ve had and a few I’ve watched my mutual have, push me to say this upfront – if you’ve been a part of my life and you have only ever seen my pixie level energy and my smiles and my love – know that this doesn’t mean I couldn’t come to you with my issues. In fact, it means you’re a constant source of happy to my pixie heart. And that Neelima is very real. She’s just not all there is in this tiny person.

I’ve been diagnosed with chronic anxiety and depression with dissociative tendencies. Now I wish I could condense what that means about me as a person but I’m still figuring out my patterns, so just stay with my while I blabber, yes?

I’m a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. And it happened between 4th-6th grade by the hands of a trusted family member. So I had no idea what had happened. My first exposure to mental health disorders was as a psychology student in 1st year college. This means between primary school and college, I went from not knowing something had happened, it had affected my personality and that I had developed coping mechanisms; to suddenly having my jigsaw pieces put into place. Unfortunately, I have faced harassment and sexual assault in multiple degrees, at multiple ages and in various places held ‘pure’ in my naïve mind post primary school as well. But I’d formed a default resilience to it so I never really did anything about any of it. So this and the resulting dramatic, bad relationships and stupid decisions is maybe broadly why I’ve come to be a patient of these disorders.

As time passed since school, I had visual reminders of the abuse. They’d pop up randomly and not in the right order. Just flashes of things happening. It’d be followed by confusion and anger that physically caused my head to ache. Kid me turned to the one thing she loves the most – music. I would put on earphones, listen to music and picture something completely different. And it always worked. Whether it was being angry through Chester and hurting through Cobain, Cornell and the works or partying with 50 Cent and Jay-Z or picturing my crush and I in a Signal Fire song :P This soon turned into my method of coping with pretty much anything drastic that happened. After a couple of years, I’m not sure when, I didn’t need the music to be able to do this anymore. Sit in one place, function in that place but have my mind operating elsewhere so I could block out my abuse or my anxiety.

With age, the lack of addressing my abuse caught up to me. From small panic attacks to full blown rage for reasons I could and couldn’t justify – a whole flurry of patterns began. And for the longest time I spoke to nobody about it. I’d have attacks in the hostel rooms, office loos, outside a gig, in the middle of a party – and I either choked on it or I distracted myself till I could ‘schedule’ a breakdown. When I say attack – it’s either uncontrollable crying or uncontrollable rage as a reaction to the thoughts my mind was throwing. While being able to control it and suppress it to that extent was a good thing back then, around 2 years back I lost my ability to do that. Neither could I control when I’d be triggered nor could I control my reactions. And the happy visual reels I’d put my mind in began to fall apart too. I caught myself not being able to control where they go and how bad they get and the more anxious I got – the line between what I was seeing in my head and how I was behaving started to blur. So there it is. A 24-year-old who can go out, do her job, meet her loved ones and be there for them – for whom the bad days meant vividly reliving her abuse while being wide awake, hallucinating in the middle of 300 people or just plain nightmares that made her feel like she couldn’t get up again.

I’m not sure if it was this lack of control over my once great coping mechanism or just all of the ‘not dealing with’ that has sprouted 3 distinct energies that are a part of me but the fact is – I’m in a place where I can call them my friends now. I could’ve just said voices in my head but too cliché no? So Ms. Question Mark, Ms. Bleu and Ms. Extra.

Ms. QM has been quite the jackass over the last 3-4 years. Convincing me that everything I say or do (sometimes even while I’m saying or doing things) is mediocre or somehow painting me as a fool. She refuses to go anywhere without her “I’m not good enough’ cap. It’s like waking up one day and everyone you ever knew is now on a higher pedestal than you, better in every way and deserving of company better than yours. She had me petrified of asking superiors at work for clarification, afraid of hanging out with my best friends and also sabotage perfectly fine dates. It’s like being on red alert with your guards up not knowing if there IS a problem but being sure that there CAN be one. Fun, real fun. She also does prove useful when the lady I will next speak of isn’t around – in making sure I’m more careful of surroundings, in picking up every cue in a room, in marking human red flags (yet I do not claim to not run after them, I am but a W.I.P.)

Then there’s Ms. Bleu. Who just shows up uninvited and you’ll never know if she’s leaving till she does. She brings along a general lack of affinity towards anything and everything I would usually enjoy, takes away all my motivation to take care of myself, keeps replaying the worst moments of my life and makes me feel like I’ve been running for weeks despite barely having gotten out of bed. She’s been a part of me for so long that my mind is now programmed to processing emotions late and not as and when the cause takes place. The most recent example would be crying over whether I’d make a good life partner – what with the maniac that I am, a week after my wedding so that I could finally feel joy about having met the gem that I have.

So one lady that makes me as good as a fused tube light and another that is a special-ops analytics team for absolutely no reason – you see how they make the most ironic team? One side keeps saying “are you sure it’s okay to do this?” and the other says “It doesn’t matter coz you don’t matter” for every third task of the day. Having anxiety and depression is being audience to a daily ping-pong match in your head, where you wait for the ball to be misplaced. Guilt, shame, self-loathing – ah the perfect sad song.

But there’s also the third lady who pops up every once in a while, and I quite like her - Extra. She makes me feel good and beautiful and energetic but also brings with her the risk of the ‘too much”. Drinking too much, taking too many impulsive decisions and recently - shopping for a whole load of shit I don’t need. Going overboard with meeting people and then not knowing where all my energy went. But I’ll take her over the other two any day.

So this is what is up with me. Any given day of the week, I’ll be handling one of the three while going about the rest of my life. The real assignment starts with my next rant about how I’ve gotten to make peace with these energies and am currently taking my life back, bit by bit. But till then – HEY! I’m Neelima Sadanand and I deal with all of this and if you are too – I’m here for you in whatever capacity the universe allows :)

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catgroovical · 7 years ago

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tagged by @handsomezack

Objective: Answer these 85 statements about yourself , then tag others.

LAST

Drink- Water.

Phone Call- Called my mom to send her a receipt of a USPS package and I still need to do that. Fuck

Text Message- texted “The Winged Wild Buffaloes” to a friend

Song you listened to- BRODYQUEST

Last time you cried- can’t remember because I do it a lot. I think i cried in a dream and woke up dry-eyed.

EVER

Dated Some one twice- nope

Kissed some one and regretted it- yes

Been Cheated on- no, but it felt like it

Lost Someone special- y e s

Gotten Drunk and Thrown Up- i’ve only been tipsy in my life

Fav Colours- blue, orange, purple

In the Last Year, You…

Made New friend- yes

Fallen out of love- you bet i did

laughed until you cried - a lot, actually

found out someone was talking about you - yes, except I found out they liked me

met someone who changed you - very much so

found out who your friends are - definitely, and it’s still developing as I find out which of my friends care about others or not

kissed someone on your facebook friends list - not at all

GENERAL

how many of your facebook friends do you know irl - almost everyone but for a few people I tink

do you have any pets - two dogs and one of them is rubbing his ass everyway and making a fucking mess

what did you do for your last birthday - had a small event at a hotel. that was neat.

what time did you wake up today - 8 am and i want to fucking die

what were you doing at midnight last night - my favorite thing: being in a discord call with @dreshdae @coffee-spawn and @handsomezack

what is something you can’t wait for - finding someone who has strong feelings for me, or finding that final break to just break down and become a hermit

what are you listening to right now - a discord call

have you ever talked to a person named tom - i... don’t think i have. wow

something that’s getting on your nerves - college, college debt, social mistakes, the constant regret of leaving friends behind at my old university

most visited website - either tumblr, reddit, or youtube

long or short hair - i’ve been told i have a mane

do you have a crush on someone - you bet i do lol, multiple

what do you like about yourself - my eyes, hair, eyelashes, straight teeth and clear skin

want any piercings - earrings, nothing else though

blood type - who the hell knows their blood type

nicknames - Enzo, slowly becoming the name I go by because it’s easier for people to say than Lorenzo

relationship status - singlerino

zodiac - Gemini

pronouns - he/him

fav TV shows - Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives, Parts Unknown, Bizarre Foods

tattoos - don’t have any, been meaning to put a few on

ever had surgery - nope, at least none that I remember

sports - soccer/true football is #1. yeah i know people don’t like it because it’s boring, but tell that to commercialthon, ice punching, and big ping pong

piercings - zero

vacation - i just want to go the beach and hear the ocean. or go to washington dc to visit the smithsonian again

trainers - i don’t think i’ve owned any

MORE GENERAL

eating - nothing. i had chicken and rice for dinner

drinking - water

about to watch - porn youtube documentaries

waiting for - the end of this school week

want - Nier Automata, a painless end, peace

get married - that’s some real stupid shit but sometimes really good shit if you have someone who you love and they love you back

career - teaching, being a museum employee, or being a baker

WHICH IS BETTER

hugs or kisses - hugs fo sho

lips or Eyes - the eyes are called the gateway to the soul for a reason

shorter or taller - shorter because i’m also short

older or younger - older, probably. younger within reason

nice arms or stomach - stomach

hookup or relationship - hookup

troublemaker or hesitant - hesitant

HAVE YOU EVER

Kissed a stranger - never

drank hard liquor - what counts as hard liquor

lost glasses - i capsized a jetski and lost my glasses in a lake

turned someone down - yes, whoopsy daisy

sex on first date - i don’t think i’ve had a date

broken someone’s heart - i think so, inadvertently

had your heart broken - and then they did it to me in return

been arrested - i’m a good boy

cried when someone died - yes. many times.

fallen for a friend - yes is too simple of an answer

DO YOU BELIEVE IN

yourself - sometimes

miracles - yeah i do

love at first sight - that’s called horniness.

santa claus - no. if around kids who believe, yes

kiss on a first date- if y’all feeling a chemistry

angels - yes and i fear them

OTHER

best friend’s name- (in no particular order) Max, Chris, Adam, Joey, Jeremy, Josh, Dan, Mateo, Zack

eye colour - mine are dark dark brown

fav movie - Der Untergang

fav actor - i forget which ones aren’t dead to me

tagging uhhhh @cold-lemons @meatchunk28 @matthebrawler @hatana-sinclaire

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topicprinter · 7 years ago

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"It's never ever going to be anything near plain sailing... it's more like clinging onto the wheel, putting every ounce of strength you have into staying on course, whilst 40ft waves crash into the boat."So many articles are written about the cultural phenomena known as the ‘start-up’ most of which talk about employees and management brainstorming over games of ping pong, working on bean bags, and having spontaneous Nerf fights throughout the day.I’m going to cut out the bullshit and provide you all with a brutally honest article about how running a startup really is.People I meet, often ask what I do, and when they hear the words “I run a start-up” exit my mouth, immediately they give remarks such as... 'Oh cool, like Google?' (A company whose name is now a part of the Oxford Dictionary is no longer allowed to be considered a startup!) 'WOW! That must be so much fun!' and 'I bet you have really cool offices!' – Half the time they don’t even ask what my start-up even does - They are too busy envisaging a rose tinted world of colourful furniture, short days and quirky decor.As frustrating as these misconceptions are - you can't really blame the reader. I think the fault lies with the business people who want to seem 'cool' or 'quirky' at the cost of sacrificing the reality of building a new business.The Real '#Startuplife'I read a quote from the founder of Pandora once, which I felt aptly described running a startup in 7 words: "A constant seesaw of worry and euphoria." Now don't get me wrong, I love having my own company, it is incredibly rewarding... But I feel like the whole '#Startuplife' trend needs a more realistic and honest representation within the media. By never talking about the weeks spent without sleep, the constant fear of failure, and the relationships and connections you sacrifice in order to even get a hint of success... we are portraying an image of business that is simply untrue.Being someone who is now on their third startup I can honestly tell you that... Running a young company is never ever going to be plain sailing... it's more like clinging onto the wheel, putting every ounce of strength you have into staying on course whilst 40ft waves crash into the boat. We constantly hear about the VC backed startups that have just closed another $100 million round of funding... Whilst impressive and certainly an important milestone for said company... it just isn't a reality that the majority of startups will ever have.Picture this okay... A CEO sat on an exercise ball at their desk, money rolling in, VC's ringing non-stop, staff playing table tennis whilst the dulcet tones of an indie band play in the background, the sunlight reflecting off of the exposed brick walls. Now throw that mental image in the trash and re-imagine a sweaty, sleep deprived CEO in their office, on a Saturday, in the dark... eyes bloodshot from reading emails, whilst their staff are at home asleep in bed.As an entrepreneur, your biggest (and harshest) critic is you... It's your baby at the end of the day, meaning its main well-being lies with YOU - and when you realise that, the whole thing becomes incredibly daunting... You are used to working under someone who calls the shots, and soon the initial "Great I'm my own boss!" thing turns into "This isn't working, I need to ask my boss... ah, shit."If you are lucky enough (depending on how you see it) to gain investment, both the stress and pressure increase even more... As it is no longer just yourself you need to satisfy... Sure, a $100 million investment gets you the sweet office, as many staff members as you wish, the nice car, the fancy watch... but it doesn't alleviate the anxiety and the fear of failure... in fact, it heightens it... as now you have a $100 million that has been given to you in TRUST... Not to mention that word travels fast in the world of startups and business.. so A LOT of eyes are going to be on you, to see how far that $100 million gets you/your company.Your days and nights will blend into one, you won't be able to sleep... your mind filled with stress, the only thing stopping your head from hitting that keyboard is the gallon of coffee you have just finished. Weekends will start to mean nothing to you, and the very notion of 'switching off' is laughable... You will constantly have the questions "Is this even worth it?" and "Why did I leave my job for this?" running through your brain as you pound down yet another 'cup o'joe'... Sounds glamorous right?It's about one thingAt the risk of sounding cliché, the greatest entrepreneurs all have one thing in common: PASSION. Nothing else will get you through hell like passion... If you don't have love for the company you want to create, then you will die VERY quickly. Your desire for money or fame will not get you anywhere (in the long term at least)... If you listen to or read up on all of the noteworthy entrepreneurs of modern society... their ideas did not spring from a desire to be worth $50 billion, instead, they came from their passion to create, and push forward in their respective fields.The problems with going into business with the mindset of becoming 'rich' are that.... 1 - you will put profit over innovation, sacrificing your companies longevity. 2 - As soon as you make any money one of two things will happen... either you will lose all drive whatsoever, or you will throw quality out of the window and replicate your product until it becomes stagnant and dies. 3 - You will be known as nothing other than a paper chaser, and you will have no real impact on the business world.You can do itIf you can push through the sleep deprivation, the anxiety, the fear and the emotional torment... It will get better, that much I can promise you. It will never be easy though, as soon as you surpass one challenge, another is waiting in line... but I think, in some twisted way... that is half the fun of it. There is nothing more satisfying than overcoming an obstacle, and seeing both you and your team grow... however cliché it sounds, I can promise that if you keep fighting, and keep that passion burning then you will succeed... If you don't do it the first time... that's okay. Failure is life's biggest educational tool, trust me I have made many mistakes in my time, but I have always found a way to use them to better myself... no matter how hard they had kicked my arse.Remember what I said earlier about being in the boat? "It's never ever going to be anything near plain sailing... it's more like clinging onto the wheel, putting every ounce of strength you have into staying on course, whilst 40ft waves crash into the boat." Well if you keep hanging on, pushing the right direction, the storm will pass and the water will clear... It won't always be flat... but remember you survived those 40ft waves.Thanks for reading!Thanks for taking the time to check out the article! If you have any thoughts or questions don't hesitate to get in touch! - I'd love to hear your stories about starting your businesses - whether you are a seasoned veteran or are new to the game, meet me in the comments below and we can chat! If you want to read the original article (and see other blog posts) you can check it out on Linkedin

#/r/startups #reddit

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basshouse · 6 years ago

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Kids and FAQs

And now for my best Terry Gross Impression: If you're just joining me, my guest is Ashley Bass. Ashley moved with her husband and two children from Seattle to New Zealand in May of 2018. In early 2019 she started blogging about her experiences as an expatriate, parent, and regular person living life in a different part of the world. The blog started as the best way she could think of to tell lots of people at one time how the family is doing and what the move had been like, but it turns out it’s also serving as a way to consider and learn from her personal experiences. In this segment, she’ll try to answer some of the Questions she is Frequently Asked by her friends and family.

Welcome back to the program! I started this set of blog posts a few weeks back with “how we got here” and moved on to “where we are.” Now we’re in the “what we are are doing” part of the blog, and to be honest, I have struggled with how to approach it because I have so much to tell you about. At least, so much to tell you about if I work under the assumption that you’re interested in fairly mundane details of a day-to-day life that sounds pretty standard...school, work. travel. sport. exploration. drinks. food. Although, it seems like a fair assumption that you want to hear about it all since you’re reading this blog and anyway isn't that what facebook and Instagram are all about -- constant insight into nothing and everything all the time?!? Well, blogs may be old school but they give me lots of room for detail.

Or maybe you just read this blog for the pictures...? You could just follow me on Instagram (_ashley_bass_), but we live in a world of instant gratification and high expectations, so here!

That’s Jason and James playing header ping pong on a cement table with a soccer ball. Didn't expect that, did you? Me either. And yet it makes so much sense.

As part of my effort to tell you what we are doing, I was drafting a summary of the places we have been and the things we have done/seen since we’ve been in NZ. It was pages long...we’ve done a lot. When I think about writing it all in a blog post I can only think of a phrase James uses all the time: “oosh.” Or maybe it’s “ush”? I guess it’s more of a sound than a phrase; it’s a kind of a take on the traditional “oof” but slightly less physically pained and a little more overwhelmed. I like it, and it works in this case, and is one of the only terms I could steal from James and use in a blog. Another option for using a James phrase would have been “butt cheek,” because he's a 17 year old boy with a vocabulary that has been stripped down to the modern version of caveman. His catch phrases are “butt cheek” (usually used confrontation with Anily); “bot” (used in confrontation with Anily but also safe enough to apply to me and Jason when we do something he thinks is stupid, which is most things); and a wide variety of aggressive sounds that spill from his room during an especially frustrating moment of playing Fortnite or FIFA -- he has headphones on and is playing online with other people so he’s especially loud and shockingly vocal and foul mouthed. Apparently he plays with a guy named “Monkey” on the regular and seems to be either super annoyed by or excited about Monkey at any given time. Lots of yelling. Ooosh.

So I guess he’s a pretty regular teenage boy. For example, I suspect it’s regular that he SUCKS at doing dishes but THINKS he is convincing when he argues about the relative fairness of his doing dishes versus Anily’s job of taking out the trash bins but UNABLE to comprehend the fact that we actually don't care at all about fairness. But listen, he’s still sweet and he’s overall a really good kid. And he got great results on his first round of NZ High School exams!

So one way I can think to report on the goings-on is to try to report on the Qs people ask me pretty F(requently) when I have the chance to catch up on the phone, or the Qs I imagine you’d ask me if you had extra time to wonder about my life, the Qs I would ask you and sometimes ask myself about moving so far away to a brand new place. For example, here’s one I have been asked more than once: Do you have an accent? Well, yeah, duh -- an American one! Seriously, I sometimes realize that when I think people are listening intently to what I have to say they are literally just trying to figure out what I am saying. I haven't yet adopted a new way of delivering sentences but small common Kiwi expressions are starting to creep in to my vocabulary. James is the most Kiwi of us all when it comes to speaking, probably because he has the most consistent exposure to it from school and from online gaming. E.g. “Oy, Monkey, what the fuck?!” Or “Good one, mate, go Monkey go!”

One of the most Frequently Asked Questions I get (both from US friends and people I meet here who find out that we moved across the world in the middle of the kids’ most formative school years) is “how are the kids doing?” The short answer is that I think they are doing really well. I can't say whether they like it better here than Seattle, but they do like it, and they don’t hate us (at least not too much or too often, and this would likely have been the case in Seattle too). They miss their friends in Seattle, of course. They miss American Ketchup. They miss American Netflix. But they have friends here and they're doing well in school and playing soccer and futsal and indoor soccer, so in a lot of ways it’s business as usual (but less likely they’ll get shot).

A few things are different: For one, Anily and James will go to school together for the next two years. IN UNIFORMS. Including a kilt for Anily which is just heinous. if I’m honest. Although having uniforms is great -- no need to think about what to wear, no pressure to buy certain clothes or shoes; it’s actually super weird that the US doesn't do uniforms, when the rest of the world pretty much does. But anyway, they would never have gone to school together again in Seattle, but because the school year is January - December and high school is 5 years, James is about to start the equivalent of junior year and Anily will start high school at the same school next week. She says she’s too small to go to high school but as far as I can see, she's gotten pretty big!

Since we have been in NZ, James turned 17 and Anily turned 13. Yeah, Jason and I had birthdays too. So not only are we OLD, we are re living in a house with two teenagers. And even though they are quite teenager-y, one of the best things about moving to NZ is how much time we spend together and how much we have shared in this journey.

Here’s a fun story, and one of those times I wish I’d been recording the world around me: On Anily’s 13th birthday we went paddle boarding down the Avon River. For those of you from San Antonio, the Avon is kind of like the San Antonio Rover -- it winds through town, creates some nice views, and is probably 2 feet deep and 15 wide in it’s largest parts. It’s lovely, but it’s leaning pretty heavily on the creek side of “river.” But it’s water and we have paddle boards and it was a super nice day out and I had decided on the previous Friday while I was having beers at the Craft Embassy and looking out over the river that it must be floatable. I was pretty sure we could handle any rapids we might encounter and I might have felt a slide need to redeem myself after our recent canoe trip down the Whanganui River (more later). So I was pretty intent on making it happen. According to the city, the Avon is a “great source of recreation for walkers and boaters.” But the only official information I could find ANYWHERE about how to recreate in it was a suggestion to go punting, aka have a guy in formal clothes and broad brim hat push you with a pole though a section of the river that goes through the botanic gardens. Which I think probably is nice but can you see me on this flat thing when I could be controlling my own destiny with some light paddling on a just-slightly-underinflated paddle board with James on the front of it and Anily and Jason beside me on another, slightly-better-inflated one?

No! We parked a car at one end of town, drove to the other, put the boards in the water without a clue as to whether it was legal, and floated past the punters (take that punters!), through the traffic jam in the botanic gardens (learn how to paddle forward, people!), got out with the eels at the Craft Embassy, drank some beers and ate some snacks, got back in and kept floating. It was only when we made another stop at the park that things took a dramatic turn. Anily slipped on the way off the board onto the landing. Jason held out the paddle for her to catch her balance, she slipped, the paddle knocked her tooth out. Like, into pieces. There was a Japanese tourist looking at the eels (yes, more of them!) and I heard him say “ooh shattered!” as pieces of enamel flew through the air. Oh, and I lost my keys. Is this why we were the only people on the entire river -- is it cursed?! I’d do it again, we did not get to finish and we only had to walk once or twice. So when you visit, let me know if you’re up for it and I’ll put some air in the paddlboards and buy you a mouth guard.

We did get to file our first ACC claim as a result -- ACC covers everyone in New Zealand with a no-fault scheme if they've been injured in an accident. A little more Kiwi by the day.

Eels in the river:

Anily’s tooth:

Oosh (Ush?) is right! Real, truly, though, we’ve had a lot of family fun here and the kids are both pretty awesome. At least they go along with my crazy ideas some of the time (Jason almost always does, which I really appreciate, because he’s much better at execution on these things. Like, with the river, he's the one who suggested wearing shoes, which turned out to be very useful). I’m happy to be able to spend so much time with the kids, more than I was able to figure out how to do in Seattle, and I think this has been a great learning and growth experience for Team Bass. One thing we learned? Don’t be too close to a paddle if you’re on a slippery boat landing in a river full of eels :-)

Oh also! Anily got a cat for her birthday:

#sendmeyourFAQs!

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geneshaven · 8 years ago

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Rambling Thoughts And Parallels On Parade

I’ve been thinking about the parallels they’ve sprinkled throughout the show this season. Some of them are obvious: the red pen and Oliver pantomiming a proposal to Felicity, the fake world of the Dominators and all the fun stuff that went on there, the bullet ridden laptop in the Bratva flashbacks. There were a lot more; you have to trust me on this one. I want to talk about the less obvious ones. Those of you who follow the narrative of Arrow as closely as I do, probably already know which ones.

This might (probably will) get rambly, but that is how I roll sometimes. And when these kind of thoughts take hold---they take hold. Besides, where else can I take them? This is why I created my blog---to have a place to purge said thoughts.

Am I crazy thinking that most of the parallels this season are linked to Oliver and Felicity? Is my Olicity bandwagon that obvious? It’s been said that their story ---as crime-fighting partners and romantically as well, is the core of the show. Oliver’s growth and Felicity’s growth is symbiotic.

It didn’t start out that way. Felicity was only supposed to be on just one episode. But the combination of chemistry between EBR and SA, and the lackluster pairing of Oliver and Laurel, made the writers rethink the love story they wanted to tell. Yes, they tried throwing other love interest Oliver’s (and ours) way---McKenna, Helena, Sara; and a one night stand with Isabel. But when those “interests” didn’t pan out, Felicity was still there. She became a constant in Oliver’s life in a way those other women could never be. They were nothing more than pit stops, temporary romps without any real meaning or thought. Oliver got sexy time with them, but he was only going through the motions. It wasn’t until Sara told him he deserved someone better than her, someone who could harness that light inside him, that Oliver realized he could be long term relationship material. He did want to care for someone, to love and laugh and maybe embrace that light Sara talked about.

McKenna wasn’t for Oliver. She was more for Ollie. She knew the playboy, not the hero. There wasn’t any real significant history between them.

Besides Sara, Helena was closer to who Oliver had been when he came back from the island. She was a train wreck, damaged emotionally and scared by the very thing Oliver was looking for---love and a sense of belonging. They were dysfunctional mirrors of each other. There was no conventional therapy that would have helped her. Oliver had Lian Yu and Hong Kong and Russia. His experiences in those places taught him how to be strong, and how to detach from his feelings. Helena had superior fighting skills, rage and a place to aim it---at her father. Neither of them knew how to truly reach out and let hope or redemption lead them to the light.

So Oliver drifted through Season 1 without the kind of love he thought he would be able to get from the above mentioned.

He brought John and Felicity into his crusade and that was the catalyst for Oliver to make the kind of connection he was looking for. John was still fighting his own demons with his war experiences and losing Andy. Before joining them, Felicity had settled into an obscure life, away from pain and loss and love. When the three of them came together, they recognized in each other that connection. They were a team, sharing one goal---to make a difference.

Parallels Gene, parallels. Stay on point. I did say that this might get rambly. When I delve into the show like this, it sometimes consumes me---and like my wife used to accuse me of, I have a tendency to ping-pong all over the place. So I guess my point up to here is that Felicity remained a constant in Oliver’s life. She was here to stay.

So, Season 5. We were told that the show was going back to basics. A reboot. Was it because they were trying to bring the comic fans back into the fold? Maybe. The show did kill off their matriarch. Was it because the initial 5 seasons were coming to an end and they were green-lighted for more? Perhaps. MG said that they might have made a mistake in bringing Oliver and Felicity together too soon, (this always cracked me up.) So I think their relationship was a culmination of all these things.

When Season 5 opened, Oliver and Felicity were “ambiguous.” They were working together as Green Arrow and Overwatch, but they were still romantically apart. Yet, they seemed to have traded places emotionally from where they had been in past seasons.

This time is was Oliver pining and frustrated, wanting to bridge the gap between them and come together. Felicity was the one holding back and pushing away (via Oliver in Season 3.) She still had obvious feelings for him. Their romance was implied but not acted on. They both wanted it, but there was still too much damage to repair. If they came back together too soon their relationship would implode again. So Oliver appeared to regress back to doing things alone and to killing again. Going back to basics. And Felicity seemed to fade into the background, trying to process what had happened to her personally. Both of them were like billiard balls, bumping off each other, looking for a pocket they could call home.

Then Felicity met and became involved with someone, something she thought would help her sort through all her feelings and move on. It didn’t. But it was a fun distraction, and maybe it did loosen things up a bit for her.

Until Rory came along and shoved Havenrock back into her face.

But here’s the thing about Billy, and another parallel added to the parade. Felicity kept her relationship with him a secret, from the Team , and more importantly---Oliver. For 5 episodes, in the entire 3 minutes we saw her interact with Billy, I could hear John telling Oliver that secrets have weight. She finally told Oliver, only because he found out from a virtual stranger and asked her. Billy was a comfort zone for Felicity, and if Oliver hadn’t found out when he did, her secret would have lasted a lot longer.

Sound familiar? Was she afraid of losing Oliver forever? Like Oliver was afraid of losing her over William? Sure, Oliver totally lied to her every time he came back from Central City. He broke her trust, her happiness, her heart. And even though Felicity did not lie to Oliver about Billy, he was still hurt. A secret is a secret, especially when it’s kept from someone you love. It’s damaging. Oliver found this out the hard way when Felicity got out of that wheelchair and walked away. I think Felicity will experience this with her secrets about Helix. Her secret won’t be as severe emotionally as Oliver’s but it will still be damaging.

After Oliver killed Billy, Felicity’s comfort zone died with him. Raw emotions took hold of her, and she faced again all the issues that brought her to Billy in the first place. Anger, grief, loss, regret, uncertainty fear---all these things crashed in on her and took her to a place dark and painful. She could look into a mirror and not only see herself, but also a reflection of Oliver super-imposed on hers, giving her a glimpse into what he has been living with since he washed up on Lian Yu.

All of this left Felicity wide open for Helix.

And here is the last parallel in this rambly chronicle. Helix will be Felicity’s League of Assassins. It will at first give her a sense of identity. It will empower her. It will be her mask. And she won’t feel like she’s alone anymore. But here’s the catch. Helix is just as dangerous, with just as much potential of losing herself as the League was for Oliver. If Felicity does end up pitting herself against Team Oliver, it could be the final conflict between them. It would be the kind of disconnect and loss neither one of them would tolerate. Oliver did the same thing with Team Arrow, (granted, it was ruse to make Ra’s think Oliver was all in.) He hurt those that he loved in order to protect them. Sure, a bit misguided, but his heart was in the right place. Felicity will do her thing with Helix for the same reason. In her life, Felicity had never hurt those she loves. She is a cupcake. A unicorn. A pure ray of emphatic sunshine. Her nature is to love, to help and to heal. It is all of these things that will eventually save her, and let those she loves back in.

So, all of what is happening this season is familiar. Maybe the writers really do have a method to their madness? Maybe there is a confrontation, a reconciliation, an endgame? Maybe we will be surprised? Maybe we will believe again?

With a wink and a smile---I’m in.

@hope-for-olicity @almondblossomme @louiseblue1 @justolicity4me @tdgal1 @jamyjan @it-was-a-red-heeler @dmichellewrites @swordandarrow

#meta

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