#sorry for my rant but i got splashed this morning and am still salty about it

[noa-ciharu]

4,6,9,10,15

I answered 15 before so I'll skip it here

4 -had your aesthetics changed at all during last year?

Like appearance? Appearance = aesthetics? It went from 'don't grab attention' to 'grab even less attention'. Rly, I don't like standing out in any way appearance-vise so I dress in most non eye-catching way possible. B/W and other non-flashy color of clothes, light brown hair, some min makeup etc.

6- name 3 books that changed your life

Some school textbooks I've cried over. Possibly my high school history book, I lost nights over it. And I still remember nothing, except that some dude set Rome on fire then composed a song about that. Wild times in ancient Rome and Greek

9- favourite quote

Don't have any. But I bet something cool could be found in classic literature

10- state unpopular opinion you have

Parking on walkway should be illegal af!

Actually I think it is prohibited here by law but noone is enforcing that law unless you personally call hauler vehicle to pick up car that parked on pavement (owner would be fined). Side streets here have narrow sidewalks and cars in some streets are parked so close to buildings I can barely use sidewalks. I lost count how many times I had to walk on road instead; and if young thin person without any luggage can't pass, noone can really; maybe except 7yo kids, but that's not the point. What about baby strollers, elderly with canes or those market bags they carry. Idk what disabled people with wheelchairs do in this city since streets are basically unusable for them, from markets to escalators that are never working to narrow sidewalks to basically everything.

And ofc there's danger of using roads bc cars use them too. I doubt I'd get hit by one since I'm aware of them and they're aware of pedestrians in side streets but I hate that I always have to be concentrated on cars moving around me (and then on rainy days you get splashed by cars ;-;). And that's me, neurotypical fully-abled person in early 20s.

Ik parking is a problem and they have nowhere to park cars (and want free parking) but I also want to be able to use fucking sidewalks like they're meant to be used :< maybe we need less cars and more people using public transport...

[faewinds]

SHANE RANT COMING THROUGH

I very rarely write anything on my tumblr, but today that changes, because yesterday I got 7 hearts with Shane and did all of this events one right after another due to my admittedly meandering path.

(There are spoilers, you were warned)

First Event: You wander up to Shane getting shwasted on the dock in the woods, and in a decidedly uncharacteristic act of charity and friendliness, he offers you a beer, but then you realize, no, he's just paying for you to sit through his sad!drunk ramblings. Starting disguised as a pseudo-intellectual conversation about life and our place in the universe, it quickly becomes a depression reveal, WHICH HE IMMEDIATELY DEFLECTS FROM by commenting on the fact that you chugged out beer, decreeing you a farmer, "after my own heart." He then, following the weeble-wobbling drunken tone of this dialogue, warns you against making it a habit, as you still have a bright future. Shane immediately has to leave, as he has a rumbly tummy, and ghosts.

Why This Annoyed Me: Thanks, dude, did Santa tell you that the only thing that beat out a pony and a will to live on my Christmas list this year was some asshole who will greet any attempt at conversation with some version of "Don't you have a job you should be doing?" until you get to 6 hearts, where he'll start asking why you're still hanging around because HE WAS BEING AN ASSHOLE ON P U R P O S E. That's def someone whose advice I can take seriously.

Second Event: Fucker is found in a pile of bottles in his room by his aunt who only comes in to his room after (it is implied) spending a hot minute trying knocking and having him open the door, which considering the amount of personal space this game usually handwaves for cutscenes, stood out. When you splash him to get him awake, he freaks and gets up, at which point his aunt, clearly nearing the end of her patience, asks what his deal is. It is more than a little worrying that in the little over 3 months since he moved in with Marnie, she has found him in either this state or one like it enough times that she so clearly at a loss for what to do, as Marnie's cutscenes and dialogue suggest that she is too practical a person for her to have just been ignoring it and hoping it'd go away. Shane, faced with his Aunt expressing her concern for him, counters with the classic, "You wouldn't understand," because that's a mature remark from a grown ass man in his late 20s. When Marnie, clearly desperate to try and get through to her nephew asks about his plans and goals, clearly trying to give him something to hold onto, Shane's reaction is so filled with drama that him getting ready to deliver his big line is distracting enough that he doesn't hear Jas walking in the room.

"Plan?" He stares off towards the book on raising chickens laying forgotten at the foot of his bed. "Hopefully I won't be around long enough to need a 'plan'-"

His artfully delivered line is not interrupted by his aunt or by you as he was probably expecting, but by his goddaughter running sobbing out of the room at her godfather's declaration. As Marnie goes running after her niece in an attempt to console her, Shane instead opts to halfheartedly calls out her name and an apology and fall to his knees in a hair-tugging temper tantrum.

Why This Annoyed Me: Homeboy, as someone who is also suicidally depressed, I understand that grabbing on to the lifelines people throw you is hard, and you don't always have the spoons to fix things. That being said, there is a fine line between 'my mental illness absolves me of all wrongdoing' and 'I'm entirely responsible for everything that happens due to my mental illness' and you, Shane, are wayyyyy too drunk to balance. I'd be more sympathetic to your plight if your response to everything that got you down was a vast array of things; drinking yourself to death is not one of them.

Third Scene: Wandering through the woods, you happen upon Shane yet again passed out in a pile of bottles, this time at the top of the cliffs next to the entrance to the cave. Shane, drunk as all hell, apologizes for not having the balls to throw himself off the cliff before you got there. He complains of having a worthless life - "All I do is work, sleep, and eat" - and demands that you give him a reason he shouldn't drunkenly roll off the edge right now. Amongst the options you have are;

There's so much to live for!!!!!!!!

JAS, YOU ASSHOLE

Suicide is a SIN against YOBA-JAYSUS

Hey, man, this isn't really a decision I can make, but I can be here for you.

His responses to these are as follows;

We very obviously disagree on this, as my main hobbies include raising chickens and drinking myself to death, fuck off.

HOLY SHIT, I SOMEHOW FORGOT I HAD A WHOLE GODDAUGHTER, THIS JUST BRINGS TO THE FOREFRONT HOW I AM TOTALLY THE PIECE OF SHIT THE WORLD REVOLVES AROUND.

A, that is the worst possible way to convince someone not to kill themselves as if you're at the point where you're literally talking them off a ledge, one can probably safely assume that they give no shits about the scriptures of Yoba-Jesus (Who will be henseforth referred to as Yosus, because I can). B, that is also possibly one of the least comforting ways to try and talk someone off a ledge, as it implies that you care more about Yosus' opinion than about your supposed friend's wellbeing, as well as highlighting that you very obviously didn't read the YoBible very closely. One of Yosus' big things was that you should leave the judging to Yosus and his Dad and concentrate on being nice to people. Guilting people about making Yosus unhappy when they're going through major personal trauma? Seriously uncool. And C, the religious character are very clearly denoted as the ones who file into the shrine at the back of Pierre's. I am notably absent from those four whole people.

Wait...people actually care about my wellbeing? Marnie and Jas being visibly distressed by my drama in no way clued me in to this.

Regardless of what you say, or his opinion, you carry his ass to the hospital, where Harvey thanks you for bringing him in. The good doctor reassures that physically (though extended alcohol abuse has already started fucking him up visibly and that would take work to rectify) Shane is doing very well, and that Harvey expects him to make a full recovery in time. Harvey goes on to comment on the more lasting effect on mental illness and tells you that he is gonna recommend a counselor in a local city for Shane to see.

The next morning, the first thing you are greeted with on your way out the door is Shane, who apologizes for you having to LITERALLY TALKING HIM OFF A CLIFF and informs you that he's going to visit the counselor that Harvey suggested. You have three responses to this;

Well, thank fuck I decided to take the the long way to Krobus' huh?

Hey, maybe now you'll stop being such a fucking dick, amiright?

I'm just happy you're still here.

To which he answers;

RIGHT YOSUS YOHRIST

Wow, yes, thank you, that's why I am currently regretting coming to update you, cause I had been under the impression that was good form for someone you forced to help you through a suicide attempt, but you're a douche, never fucking talking to you again.

...that got heavy real fuckin fast, I was blitzed, it was that bad? Yosus, sorry.

Why This Annoyed Me: This is actually the point where Shane started becoming less two dimensional for me. He does have Turd At The Center Of The Universe Complex, but depression sometimes comes with the feeling that everything's the worst specifically around you and everyone in your immediate vicinity would be immediately better off without you around. That being said, Shane, you live with Jas, she is at most 6, how did you manage to forget her? You are obviously important to her, and she obviously feels comfortable just wandering into your room. Maybe pay her more attention.

I was super pumped after that heart event, because that gave me hope that there was gonna be a nice, happy recovery story. I was further enthused by the next one.

Forth Scene: Shane walks in to the Ranch, and Marnie comments on his good mood, which she immediately ruins by suggesting it's because there's a sale on beer. Shane looks unhappy, but bounces back, telling her he's switched to soda water and he feels a lot better before giving Jas a new pair of play slippers that he can now afford because his entire disposable income isn't going into booze.

My Issues: Marnie, we can understand that he's apparently been pulling this shit for a hot minute, so it's understandable that you're patience is wearing thin, but maybe starting that particular fight with him while he's looking happy and, above all, sober, right after he got out of the hospital for a suicide attempt that alcohol and being drunk played a big role in might not be the best of ideas.

5th Scene: Shane is filming an ad for a Joja Mart competition, and asks you to walk through the back of the scene to make it seem less fake. Clint chugs a bottle of soda because Emily makes him nervous. He turns blue.

Issues: Nonexistent, his character is developing and this is the first cutscene that isn't centered around his addiction and is evidence of him actually trying to start moving on and doing better.

6th Event: You walk into the ranch and Jas takes you to the back, where Shane has a heart to heart with his favorite chicken, Charlie, carrying her around while doting upon his fancy blue chickens.

Issues: FANCY. BLUE. CHICKENS.

Salty, Salty Conclusion

They didn't change a n y of his dialogue as his hearts increase. So, if you talk to him right after he comes to you about going into counseling, he'll tell you that he's going to the bar because there's nothing else to do.

[wellness-club]

Kaleidoscope

My phone vibrates. I look over and see my friend calling me. My heart drops. Every time her name comes up it feels as though someone is pulling on my heart. As I pick up the phone my first question is, 

“Are you okay?” 

She answers my question with soft, muffled sobs on the other side. My throat clenches as a hot feeling behind my eyes forces a tear. I am so sorry. Through heavy breaths, she tells me about her day. Black and blue bruises form on her upper back from a strike, her arm aches from a blade, and her mind is blurry. I close my eyes and picture her on the third floor of the history building as the breeze from the open window brushes her soft, blond hair. Her nervous hands shake with fear as she fights to hold her body up, and tries not to give in. As the stars reflect in her blue eyes, she tells me about how they reminded her of us, and how we would watch the stars every night in the summer. I can picture her while she breaks down and shuts the window, shutting out her fear, her life, and everything around her. My stomach wrenches. The unbearable pain breaks me down, and I tell her how much I love her, and that I understand. As time goes on, the feeling doesn’t vanish for me, but her tears are quieter and her mind is clearer. I look at my phone. 2:00 in the morning, but she’s okay. 

“I love you, goodnight.” 

The phone clicks and she’s gone. Sitting at my desk, I feel numb as a dark cloud hangs over my head ready to rain on me at any moment. She’s okay, she’s okay. Climbing into bed, I close my swollen eyes. My body tingles as I grow tired. My mind drifts back to when I was a kid, when bad things were only in dreams, giving me an excuse to sleep in the safety of my parents’ bed; when rainy days were days for playing. I drift off, and warmth slowly begins to return to my cold, shaking body. 

I awake to soft raindrops dancing on the roof. As the pitter-patter grows, joy flows through my 6-year-old self. Adrenaline rushes through my body as I slip out of my blue, polka dotted bedding and rush to get my duck-yellow rain jacket hanging in the closet. After pulling on the matching boots, I sprint into my younger sister’s room to find her already one step ahead of me, the sound of my footsteps echoing through the brightly lit hallway. Her soft voice resonates from the kitchen. I jump down the stairs, grasping the railing to avoid tripping over my clunky boots. My mom buttons up my sister’s matching raincoat and helps her slip on her boots, then sends us outside with a hug. Her warmth envelopes me with happiness. We step out into the driveway, and I can see that the rain has already begun to form puddles, holding the reflection of the grey sky. As we throw ourselves into them, the water feels refreshing as it splashes onto my legs, washing me with pure joy. Although grey surrounds me, I see in technicolor. Red and orange dance with each drop of rain. Light blue bounces off of my sisters smile. Yellow flashes in front of me as my sister laughs and jumps. The grass glistens green, and the minute raindrops it holds shimmer like small diamonds. My world is a kaleidoscope. 

My alarm wakes me up with a jolt. The rain is gone, but the dark cloud still hangs above me, the bright colors replaced with the grey monotone of the world around me. 

I’m color blind. 

I keep my head high and go through the motions. Every day is the same. Looking around I see my friends laughing and smiling like they always do, but their smiles no longer radiate bright blue. My dad calls it the black dog. The black dog visits me often. Most of the time she lays on my bed at night or follows me around to class. No one else sees her, but I’ve learned to accept her unshakeable presence as something that I have to deal with on my own. 

As the sky grows darker and the air becomes crisper, her leash seems to tighten around my wrist, lightly rubbing a mark into my skin. Yet still, I plaster a smile onto my face. I’m available to those who need me. I’m okay, I’m okay. I reach over for my phone on my bedside table and text my friend to see how she is. She’s okay. A feeling of relief washes over me but is soon replaced with an anxious feeling from an unidentifiable source. Breathe. I feel my black dog tugging at her leash, begging for attention. It takes every bit of strength left in my body to drag myself out of bed. My eyelids feel as though they have weights on them, making it impossible to keep them open. In an attempt to wake up, I go to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. For a second I am splashing in the puddles again with my sister and dancing in a kaleidoscope of colors. I smile. I open my eyes and look in the mirror only to see that the bags under my eyes have become darker and my olive skin has grown paler. Taking a deep breath, I slowly make my way back to my room to get changed. I apply a light tone of concealer under my eyes, masking the dark blue and grey color that seems to kiss me every morning and wrap a few bracelets around my wrist to hide the marks. I pack up my bag and turn off the lights, locking all of my secrets behind the door. As I make my way down the stairs my friends are waiting for me. When we step outside, the sun is shining, but the chilled wind sends a shiver down my spine. Their voices are clear but my head is someplace else, making my thoughts blurry. I don’t understand. As they rant about a quiz they bombed and how they got into a fight with a friend from home, I listen. I listen to everything that that they have to say, and I’m there for them, even for the smallest things. 

“I had a tough night last night.” I say, my voice shaking thinking about what happened. 

Just as I expected my words are stolen by the wind and carried away. I should have known that I don’t matter. I don’t matter. These words resonate through my head. I’m not enough. 

“Hey, sorry I just forgot something in my room.” I say, turning around. Their faces are puzzled, but with a shrug of their shoulders, they continue on with their conversation. Running into my room I slam the door and throw my backpack on the ground. It feels as though I have been punched in the gut over and over again. My heavy breaths are uncontrollable, causing my burning eyes to water. Salty tears rush down my face onto my dry, pale lips. What is wrong with me. All I see is black as my mascara smudges under my eyes. I look closer. The yellow sunflower that was once present in my hazel eyes has wilted to a muted grey. I untie my shoes and climb into my bed, holding the weight of the world on my shoulders. My black dog jumps up and snuggles into the curves of my back. I close my eyes and shut out my fear, my life, and everything around me, just as my friend had done the night before. I understand. 

When the weekend finally comes, I set my alarm for 6:30am, pack my lacrosse bag, and run outside to meet my Dad. His bright smile is contagious and for a moment I see a glimpse of bright blue but it quickly fades. Driving through an old town in Boston, he begins to look at me with worried eyes. Before I can say anything, he pulls the car over and parks alongside a coffee house. Reaching for my hand, he asks me to take a walk. As we make our way down the sidewalk, the sun is just starting to set, causing the old buildings to cast lengthy shadows onto the street. Holding my Dad’s hand, I feel safe. Nerves race through my body and it takes every bit of strength in my body to speak. 

“Dad, I think I’m depressed.” 

His grip on my hand tightens softly. As the buildings ahead of us grow closer and their shadows become taller, he leads me across the street. I look up at him confused at first, but as soon as I see him smile at me, I know he understands.

“You always have to walk on the sunny side of the street.” 

The sun peeks out from the tip of the church and lightly kisses my cheeks. I close my eyes again but this time I can feel something superior, something that only comes from the embrace of your Mom’s arms, the reassurance of your Dad’s hand, and the beautiful rays of the sun. When I open my eyes, I’m looking through my kaleidoscope. I can see in color again. Yellow and orange jump from rooftop to rooftop, purple and magenta flow up to the sky like small bubbles as the dogs sing to each other from across the street. I look at my Dad, his smile radiating bright blue, only this time, it’s clearer than ever. 

People say that everything happens for a reason, and I’ve come to be a firm believer in this. I know that I am stronger now. I know that as my younger sister grows up, I will be there for her, reminding her that although some days it may rain, she should never forget that the vibrant yellow color of her duck raincoat will always be there, she just has to look at the world through her kaleidoscope.

-Katherine B