#suicide postponed turns out love is real and i have to live another day to see it breathe

[haec-an]

♡

[meenah-chan]

Safe haven

a Diavolo x GN! MC fanfic

2.36k words

Genre: Angst

Trigger warning: Insane deadly stunt but not suicide, please don't read if you have this triggers. And please don't try this at home... or anywhere

Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~) | Part 3 (Safe Haven ~Epilogue~)

Masterlist

It is their sanctuary. A place that has everything they could wish for...

if only, fate isn't fickle...

"If I jump, will you save me again?"

"What a wretched soul I have..."

It’s been an hour since they were staring far in the horizon. Dusk is on its way, with the lake gulping the sun whole to bring forth darkness in the grassy land they’re on. That place is secluded, surrounded with trees serving as its walls. As if it were cradling them away from everything.

It's not their first-time watching day turn to night on where they are. They’ve known that spot enough to vividly paint the place on a whim.

It was neither a simple place as it seems. That place is a part of the human realm, untouched by anyone but two persons— them and Diavolo. A place which witnessed how the said Prince dropped on his knees and confessed he likes them. The place they admit they felt the same.

The place where they held hands in their secret rendezvous; times where the Future king would go to whenever he ran away from his endless responsibilities for a day and spend it with them, with words of affections and adorations for each other. It is their safe haven.

The Forget-me-not flowers they planted are blooming around them. As the two sat beneath the shade of the tree, appreciating the presence of the flowers and each other.

Diavolo has a habit of caressing their cheeks, brushing strands of their locks past their ears, as he embraces them as if they were the most precious treasure, he has ever held. Those smiles he would beam; brighter than the sol they always see. "You're the most beautiful being I have ever seen." And they would smile back, with their feelings overflowing so much they would always pour it back to him with a kiss.

But being always in that place doesn't mean they never left it. There are times they would give him a heart attack by literally jumping off the edge of the cliff. The demon prince then would follow them in a snap, before transforming right before their eyes and seizing them.

They knew it was a foolish thing to do. No sane person would ever carry out such dumb, dangerous stunt. They do have a magic or two under their sleeves should Diavolo fail the task. Spells they would feverishly study and tirelessly practice for the sake of the success of the Exchange Student program; for the sake of making Diavolo proud of them. So, they studied hard, yet fools only around their beloved.

So, they kept on flying off to the danger at every given chance. For the feeling during the times they would fall, they had the best view they could ever see in their lifetime. How the demon they ever loved could be so... breathtaking. Turning into his demon form—metamorphosing like a dazzling butterfly, his red locks fluttering in the wind, with such golden ornaments, such golden eyes reflecting the radiance of the sun. And most of all, such playful, thrilled smiles they would willingly lay their life just to see. He seems like the mesmerizing golden red dusk. He may be a demon, but Diavolo is much more divine than the angels in their eyes.

And to think that such an ambrosial prince would hold them in his firm arms, and bury them in his well-toned chest before gliding up in the air. They really love the feeling. Akin to the flowers they cultivate symbolizes, he is their true love.

"Should we land back on the top of the land?"

"Just a little bit longer." Humming, they would place a peck onto the tip of his horn or temple whenever they would request something so badly, which then would receive a chuckle from the Demon. "Hahaha, what a pampered human... Alright, just a little bit longer." And who knows how long they stay in the air. Then they would share small talks back on the cliff, and soon be bombarded with tons of messages and missed calls from the butler and the right-hand man. They would head back home after that, before the said aides decide to search for them and find their secret haven.

It was all they could ever wish for. An everlasting love to carry inside their mortal heart.

They have everything they could ask for, until that day comes. A moonless, rainy night during the celebration of Diavolo's birth.

"I'm glad to finally meet you, the Future King of Devildom." …the day she came. Rosa, a rather respected princess, and the daughter of Queen Rose.

"...N-No, the pleasure is mine." Whether he was flustered by her sudden appearance or not, something was rather amiss. His gaze towards her was different than anything they've ever seen him make. So different yet... familiar. Like the way his eyes sparked of reverie the day they first met, except it was more profound.

Diavolo sighed, "I'm telling you, you don't have to worry. You know you're the one I love." It was nothing, he said. It was only in their imagination, he said. Even so, the connection between the two they perceived every time the two met on business, felt so real.

They were so anxious, so angry they wanted to explode. They want to blame it all on that demon princess who appeared out of nowhere, and brought everything to a big mess! They wanted to lash at her, right from the deepest pit of their stomach!

...Yet, they didn't.

They simply can't. Not when she was like an angel who descended in the land of darkness.

So pure yet so wise, so diligent and well-versed. She is strong-willed and rather capable in every aspect. She doesn't deserve to be blamed for something she didn't mean to do. It was merely a work of two hearts naturally falling for each other. It was inevitable.

Instead of brooding without doing anything, they will fight. They will fight for what's theirs. For what's right. For the specks of affection left inside Diavolo. For their love, they won't give up.

Or so they thought...

"Y/N, would you mind having tea with me later?" Barbatos asked for their attendance.

But unlike the usual afternoon tea they always share with the butler, "Where's Diavolo?" ... the prince is not around.

"The Young master has prior engagement and brought Lucifer in my stead. My apologies if it was not to your liking."

"Ahh, no. I didn't mean it like that. It's just that... having snacks with only you are unusual." It's not unusual. Rather, it never occurred even once. Diavolo tends to postpone the teatime for another time whenever he can't go, as Barbatos always join his absence.

"Actually, I asked you today about an important matter to discuss."

"...Is it related to Diavolo and me, isn't it?" They shouldn't have asked him. They hated themself for asking Diavolo's attendant.

"Yes. To be precise, it is about your relationship and the lady you met during Young master's birthday. I believe you have the right to know this." They held their breath. "I hate to break it to you but the lady you met back then, is the Young Master's... fiancée and his soulmate." The words that came off Barbatos' lips felt like cold water dumped on them.

They just want to end the conversation right there and leave the garden as fast as they can, but they forcefully pull themself together and learn the whole truth, as painful as it is for them. "...Fiancee, you said? And what do you mean by soulmate?"

"For every heir of the throne, there is a prophecy foretelling the righteous betrothed one fated for them. This Oracle has never once failed in predicting who..." Barbatos paused, evaluating whether they could take any more. "...would help the Ruler in bringing prosperity in the Devildom."

After a minute of silence, they spoke. "Does Diavolo know all about this? About her?"

"Yes... but I swear in my name, he has always wanted to be free of the prophecy and achieve prosperity through his own power."

"Where is he headed to at the moment?"

"..." Barbatos' silence tells them everything. He is with her. That's all that they needed to know.

"I... see... Thank you for telling me this."

"I— no, I don't deserve such words from you." They shook their head, "You still disclosed this even when Diavolo wanted to keep it a secret from me. I'm sorry I brought trouble to you."

"It was my own choice. I'm just doing what I think is right."

"Thank you, really..."

They left the castle, thinking a lot of things but also finally enlightened.

They never had Diavolo's heart from the start.

He is the future of the Devildom, the future of all the demons who could easily outlive them. And for that he needs an Empress who can fully support him and bear another long-lived heir. His soulmate, his forever, his other half. Everything that they could never be.

Their life is short. His' is not. He could never fathom the extent of his life like they could. That is also the reason why they could love him until the day they cease to exist, a mere blink to him.

As obvious as the glaring sun that blinds them atop that cliff, his love... is gone.

They could see it in his eyes. Every day he spends with them, his mind is somewhere else.

Even in their favorite place, his embraces were still as cold as the mountain's peak. His smile is too forced, like a one man playing before their eyes. His kisses were prickling and painful. And his gaze... He is suffering.

Like they were.

"Forgive me." It was for the Devildom, he said. His head hangs low, wearing that distressed expression.

"Hey, lift your head? The future king shouldn't bow to anyone." They smiled, cupping his cheeks to raise his face.

"Look, I understand." It was a surprise they didn't shed a drop of tear, as they pat his head gently. "Follow your heart. You'll become a great king."

He made a wise decision, to choose his bond that suddenly came that day. Someone who really owns Diavolo's heart per destiny's decree. The heart they thought he offered back then, with the trees, and the cool breeze, and the swaying leaves, and the sunset as their witnesses. The heart they thought were already theirs. The heart that slipped from their fingers as he let go of their hand when Diavolo locked eyes with his fated one.

Diavolo's love is fleeting. Or maybe it was never love from the start, but a mere curiosity on his end. A misconception, but it doesn't matter anymore. They already knew the answer.

He already achieved his true love, holding his Empress in white. He wears that smile, much, much brighter than anything they have ever seen.

The bells sing with the crowd in jubilation. It is a merry occasion, with the official new rulers of the Devildom. All were so elated.

Except for one. "What a wretched soul I have..." they uttered under their breath. They couldn't take the sight. With the man they so love to be happy in someone's arms. Rage was boiling inside them. Staying there for a second longer and they would definitely ravage everything. So, they fled the scene, escaping to their secret place surrounded by the lake and the sea of trees.

They wanted to let it all out. Pain, sorrow, rage, envy. They were overflowing with emotion more than they could take. It should be them, placing a ring on his finger! the one smiling and crying of happiness as he makes a vow! The one who should be kissing him in front of thousands of witnesses!

"WHY?! What did I do to deserve this?!" The swaying blue and white Forget-me-nots they took with utmost care came to view. "What useless plants!!" They cried out, yanking and tearing everything off the soil. "True love?! It was only me from the very start!!"

All they could do was cry. Scream until their throat goes dry, until their voice disappears.

When all energy left their body, they slumped in the grassy land they’re on. In that secluded place, surrounded with trees serving as its walls. As if it were cradling them away from everything. Hiding their wretched self from everyone.

Dazed, they stared at the sky for an hour. As its hue turns from light blue to red, their mind gets clearer. That's when they heard a familiar sound. They followed it on the tip of the cliff.

It was the roaring waves beneath the land mass. It seems like it's continuing the cries they couldn't do anymore. Roaring like it was spilling the emotions inside them.

"If I jump, will you save me again?" They spoke to the man who is no longer in that secret place. It will never be a safe haven for them anymore.

"I want to be saved by you one more time." I want to be embraced by you one last time.

They faced their back to the rim of the cliff, and took a step backward. A foot standing on a void. And so, their body tipped, losing the other foot from the ground. As their balance disappears, they see nothing but the golden rays of the sunset and the redness of the dusk. So red like Diavolo's locks, golden like his eyes. There's nothing but only traces of him; of the man who doesn't really love them as he promised.

This is foolish... They thought. They're all alone. No Diavolo will fly down and save them anymore.

"I should go home..." Dying here would only hurt him... They whispered as the firm breeze swirls beneath, ready to catch them. After all, no one will save me but I... thinking of that, another pang spiked their heart.

But the wind spell they casted couldn't catch them. When they should have been falling, a hand appeared and pulled them in an embrace.

"Please don't do this..." it was not the warmth they were expecting. Yet, streams began flowing down their cheeks, in comfort of another’s arms. With their hoarse voice they sob the sorrow of losing their safe haven.

Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~) | Part 3 (Safe Haven ~Epilogue~)

Masterlist

[agentnico]

No Time To Die (2021) Review

I swear this movie came out 2 years ago?... Okay, yes, I agree, that was a cheap gag, but look, the constant postponement of this film's release is in itself a joke! Finally though, it is here.

Plot: James Bond is enjoying a tranquil life in Jamaica after leaving active service. However, his peace is short-lived as his old CIA friend, Felix Leiter, shows up and asks for help.

“I’d rather slash my wrists.” Those were the words spoken by actor Daniel Craig in 2015 for a Time Out magazine interview prior to the release of Spectre. Seemingly it felt as if Craig was done with his signature role as famed British spy James Bond, however be as it may have been, MGM managed to sway away Craig’s suicidal thoughts and cut him a cheque with a sum he simply couldn’t refuse and have him return for a proper final outing. Hollywood business at it’s finest, ladies and gentlemen! But the question is posed, was there a need for another Craig/Bond film? For the previous instalment Spectre was such a let-down that it left a sour taste, or at least I think it did. Honestly, I don’t really remember much of what happened in Spectre, it was such a shoulder-shrugging forgettable feature. The answer however is a positive one, for No Time To Die ends up being worth the wait. All this wait. Though I would’ve found it super amusing if this film came out and turned out to be an absolute stinker, as then everyone would just be sat there in the theatre wondering why the hell we’ve been waiting for this movie this entire time. But nope, it’s a good one.

No Time To Die really feels like a culmination of Daniel Craig’s time as James Bond. And with that merit this movie doesn’t actually feel like a James Bond film. Yes, it has the one-liners and the action set pieces and the typical tropes of a Bond film, however the focus here is very much more on Daniel Craig’s interpretation of the character, and how he managed to turn a weapon into a human. For James Bond at the end of the day was always a killing machine. License to kill and all that jazz was always at the centre of what made the character, however Craig’s take brought a lot of humanity and reality to what was a stereotype. And it’s shown more than ever in No Time To Die, with Daniel Craig delivering a performance of vast emotional gamut. His Bond experiences moments of general happiness and actual love (real love, not just his typical one-night stands he’s known for) to then fury and sadness. My fiancée jokingly made a remark at the beginning of this movie about how petty James Bond is acting in this movie. And I agreeably chuckled at first, for to be fair he was getting offended easily and taking everything so personally without giving it much thought, however the more the movie progressed, the more I understood why he was this way. It made him feel more human, and actually made me care for him. Additionally, the aforementioned element of love plays a big part in this film, for romance is truly at the heart of this one. Bond turns out to be a real loving sweetheart, and this all culminated in one hell of a finale, one that really surprised me with it’s emotional gut punch. Look, I see this film’s ending really dividing audiences as it’s not something you would typically expect from a James Bond movie, however I absolutely relished it and saw it as a perfect swan song for Daniel Craig.

The movie is long. In fact, it’s very long. In fact, it’s too long. It runs at nearly 3 hours and yes, there is a lot of story crammed into this but honestly there are many chunks that could have been cut down and the film would have benefitted from it. For the movie is very good, but it has chunks that drag which does cause the experience to be slightly diminished, however that being said, this is a very well directed movie. Cary Joji Fukunaga (who’s previous work I don’t know much of though I have seen his Netflix limited series Maniac with Jonah Hill and Emma Stone which I do recommend highly) exhibits some strong directing here, balancing moments of real tension using unsettling imagery with moments of levity and good character chemistry. Yes, he brings class and the right amount of epicness to the action sequences, but it was actually the quieter moments that I feel he really excelled at. The opening sequence is especially disturbing, with the way Fukunaga displays this lonely isolated house in the middle of snowy nowhere, and we see a mysterious figure creep towards it wearing a mask so creepy it reminded me of that freaky monkey mask from the horror thriller I See You. A shot from behind a sliding glass door I found especially unnerving. 

Performances across the board are all great. Daniel Craig I’ve already sing praise for, however others are to be mentioned also. Rami Malek manages to take a fairly lacklustre villain and present him in proper vile fashion. He’s truly unpleasant and horrible in this role, and I truly despised him which is what made him perfect for the role. That being said the actual character was weak. There wasn’t much meat to him so to speak. Typical Bond bad guy who wanted to see the world burn. Lea Seydoux returns as Bond’s love interest Madeleine and her chemistry with Craig is wonderful and I really enjoyed seeing her character develop more since the last movie. Returning from Spectre too is the villainous Blofeld played by Christoph Waltz, and though he isn’t in the movie much, I weirdly enjoyed him more this time around. In Spectre is was really forgettable and the script didn’t know what to do with him, whilst here is serves a specific purpose and we also get to enjoy a great scene with him in prison having a battle of wits with Bond. Real good stuff. We also have a couple of new Bond girls, with Lashana Lynch taking on the 007 mantle, and it was nice seeing a very different kind of spy in her. Her and Bond bicker quite a bit, however natural they become buddies and they are the better for it. And Lynch can be easily added to the list of powerful badass women on-screen. Ana de Armas also appears in what is a little Knives Out reunion, and unfortunately she’s only in the movie for one sequence, but it’s actually a great sequence with her putting a new spin on the Bond girl stereotype, bringing charm, swagger and humour and riffing off good banter with Craig. Shame we only see so little of her. The likes of Naomie Harris, Ben Whishaw and Ralph Fiennes also return, and even Jeffrey Wright takes a break from pondering What If? scenarios to make a little comeback. 

No Time To Die definitely stands next to the better Daniel Craig Bond films alongside Casino Royale and Skyfall, and it’s a true culmination of all of them, whilst still managing to ignore and forget the existence of Quantum of Solace, which is good, because Quantum of Solace sucks and I can’t believe I even managed to bring it up again!! Regardless, what a way to send off Daniel Craig on a proper high, and really refreshing to actually witness a Bond movie that features feelings and emotions. In fact, it’s pure Valentine’s Day essential viewing, so mark your calendars for next year, as you now know what film you have to rewatch on February 14th 2021! 

Overall score: 8/10

[setinprovincialbohemia]

ON SELF-RESPECT 

Joan Didion (1961)

Once, in a dry season, I wrote in large letters across two pages of a notebook that innocence ends when one is stripped of the delusion that one likes oneself. Although now, some years later, I marvel that a mind on the outs with itself should have nonetheless made painstaking record of its every tremor, I recall with embarrassing clarity the flavor of those particular ashes. It was a matter of misplaced self-respect.

I had not been elected to Phi Beta Kappa. This failure could scarcely have been more predictable or less ambiguous (I simply did not have the grades), but I was unnerved by it; I had somehow thought myself a kind of academic Raskolnikov, curiously exempt from the cause-effect relationships which hampered others. Although even the humorless nineteen-year-old that I was must have recognized that the situation lacked real tragic stature, the day that I did not make Phi Beta Kappa nonetheless marked the end of something, and innocence may well be the word for it. I lost the conviction that lights would always turn green for me, the pleasant certainty that those rather passive virtues which had won me approval as a child automatically guaranteed me not only Phi Beta Kappa keys but happiness, honor, and the love of a good man; lost a certain touching faith in the totem power of good manners, clean hair, and proved competence on the Stanford-Binet scale. To such doubtful amulets had my self-respect been pinned, and I faced myself that day with the nonplussed apprehension of someone who has come across a vampire and has no crucifix at hand.

Although to be driven back upon oneself is an uneasy affair at best, rather like trying to cross a border with borrowed credentials, it seems to me now the one condition necessary to the beginnings of real self-respect. Most of our platitudes notwithstanding, self-deception remains the most difficult deception. The tricks that work on others count for nothing in that well-lit back alley where one keeps assignations with oneself; no winning smiles will do here, no prettily drawn lists of good intentions. One shuffles flashily but in vain through ones’ marked cards the kindness done for the wrong reason, the apparent triumph which involved no real effort, the seemingly heroic act into which one had been shamed. The dismal fact is that self-respect has nothing to do with the approval of others – who we are, after all, deceived easily enough; has nothing to do with reputation, which, as Rhett Butler told Scarlett O’Hara, is something people with courage can do without.

To do without self-respect, on the other hand, is to be an unwilling audience of one to an interminable documentary that deals one’s failings, both real and imagined, with fresh footage spliced in for every screening. There’s the glass you broke in anger, there’s the hurt on X’s face; watch now, this next scene, the night Y came back from Houston, see how you muff this one. To live without self-respect is to lie awake some night, beyond the reach of warm milk, the Phenobarbital, and the sleeping hand on the coverlet, counting up the sins of commissions and omission, the trusts betrayed, the promises subtly broken, the gifts irrevocably wasted through sloth or cowardice, or carelessness. However long we postpone it, we eventually lie down alone in that notoriously uncomfortable bed, the one we make ourselves. Whether or not we sleep in it depends, of course, on whether or not we respect ourselves.

To protest that some fairly improbably people, some people who could not possibly respect themselves, seem to sleep easily enough is to miss the point entirely, as surely as those people miss it who think that self-respect has necessarily to do with not having safety pins in one’s underwear. There is a common superstition that “self-respect” is a kind of charm against snakes, something that keeps those who have it locked in some unblighted Eden, out of strange beds, ambivalent conversations, and trouble in general. It does not at all. It has nothing to do with the face of things, but concerns instead a separate peace, a private reconciliation. Although the careless, suicidal Julian English inAppointment in Samara and the careless, incurably dishonest Jordan Baker in The Great Gatsby seem equally improbably candidates for self-respect, Jordan Baker had it, Julian English did not. With that genius for accommodation more often seen in women than men, Jordan took her own measure, made her own peace, avoided threats to that peace: “I hate careless people,” she told Nick Carraway. “It takes two to make an accident.”

Like Jordan Baker, people with self-respect have the courage of their mistakes. They know the price of things. If they choose to commit adultery, they do not then go running, in an access of bad conscience, to receive absolution from the wronged parties; nor do they complain unduly of the unfairness, the undeserved embarrassment, of being named co-respondent. In brief, people with self-respect exhibit a certain toughness, a kind of mortal nerve; they display what was once called character, a quality which, although approved in the abstract, sometimes loses ground to other, more instantly negotiable virtues. The measure of its slipping prestige is that one tends to think of it only in connection with homely children and United States senators who have been defeated, preferably in the primary, for reelection. Nonetheless, character – the willingness to accept responsibility for one’s own life – is the source from which self- respect springs.

Self-respect is something that our grandparents, whether or not they had it, knew all about. They had instilled in them, young, a certain discipline, the sense that one lives by doing things one does not particularly want to do, by putting fears and doubts to one side, by weighing immediate comforts against the possibility of larger, even intangible, comforts. It seemed to the nineteenth century admirable, but not remarkable, that Chinese Gordon put on a clean white suit and held Khartoum against the Mahdi; it did not seem unjust that the way to free land in California involved death and difficulty and dirt. In a diary kept during the winter of 1846, an emigrating twelve-yaer-old named Narcissa Cornwall noted coolly: “Father was busy reading and did not notice that the house was being filled with strange Indians until Mother spoke out about it.” Even lacking any clue as to what Mother said, one can scarcely fail to be impressed by the entire incident: the father reading, the Indians filing in, the mother choosing the words that would not alarm, the child duly recording the event and noting further that those particular Indians were not, “fortunately for us,” hostile. Indians were simply part of the donnee.

In one guise or another, Indians always are. Again, it is a question of recognizing that anything worth having has its price. People who respect themselves are willing to accept the risk that the Indians will be hostile, that the venture will go bankrupt, that the liaison may not turn out to be one in which every day is a holiday because you’re married to me. They are willing to invest something of themselves; they may not play at all, but when they do play, they know the odds.

That kind of self-respect is a discipline, a habit of mind that can never be faked but can be developed, trained, coaxed forth. It was once suggested to me that, as an antidote to crying, I put my head in a paper bag. As it happens, there is a sound physiological reason, something to do with oxygen, for doing exactly that, but the psychological effect alone is incalculable: it is difficult bin the extreme to continue fancying oneself Cathy in Wuthering Heights with ones head in a Food Fair bag. There is a similar case for all the small disciplines, unimportant in themselves; imagine maintaining any kind of swoon, commiserative or carnal, in a cold shower.

But those small disciplines are valuable only insofar as they represent larger ones. To say that Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton is not to say that Napoleon might have been saved by a crash program in cricket; to give formal dinners in the rain forest would be pointless did not the candlelight flickering on the liana call forth deeper, stronger disciplines, values instilled long before. It is a kind of ritual, helping us to remember who and what we are. In order to remember it, one must have known it.

To have that sense of one’s intrinsic worth which constitutes self-respect is potentially to have everything: the ability to discriminate, to love and to remain indifferent. To lack it is to be locked within oneself, paradoxically incapable of either love or indifference. If we do not respect ourselves, we are the one hand forced to despise those who have so few resources as to consort with us, so little perception as to remain blind to our fatal weaknesses. On the other, we are peculiarly in thrall to everyone we see, curiously determined to live out – since our self-image is untenable – their false notion of us. We flatter ourselves by thinking this compulsion to please others an attractive trait: a gist for imaginative empathy, evidence of our willingness to give. Of course I will play Francesca to your Paolo, Helen Keller to anyone’s Annie Sullivan; no expectation is too misplaced, no role too ludicrous. At the mercy of those we cannot but hold in contempt, we play roles doomed to failure before they are begun, each defeat generating fresh despair at the urgency of divining and meeting the next demand made upon us.

It is the phenomenon sometimes called “alienation from self.” In its advanced stages, we no longer answer the telephone, because someone might want something; that we could say no without drowning in self-reproach is an idea alien to this game. Every encounter demands too much, tears the nerves, drains the will, and the specter of something as small as an unanswered letter arouses such disproportionate guilt that answering it becomes out of the question. To assign unanswered letters their proper weight, to free us from the expectations of others, to give us back to ourselves – there lies the great, the singular power of self-respect. Without it, one eventually discovers the final turn of the screw: one runs away to find oneself, and finds no one at home.

[papermoonloveslucy]

HUMILIATED & UNHAPPY

July 16, 1960

TV Guide ~ July 16-22, 1960 (Vol.8, No.29 & Issue #381) Cover photo by Sherm Weisberg, Fashions by Sacks Fifth Avenue

This was Lucille Ball’s tenth (of 39) TV Guide covers. 

“A VISIT WITH LUCILLE BALL” by Dan Jenkins

On January 19, 1953, Desi Arnaz rushed exultantly into the Hollywood Brown Derby, grinning that wide, idiotic grin common to new fathers for the past several eons. Striding down a side isle, he threw his arms excitedly in the air and shouted, "Now we got everythin'!" By "everythin'," Arnaz was encompassing quite a bit of territory - an eight-pound son born that morning, the birth of the Ricardo son on ‘I Love Lucy’ that same night and a gold-plated peak of popularity for a television series which, in all probability, will never again be approached. On May 4, 1960, just seven years later, Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball, quite possibly the most widely known couple in show-business history, were divorced. She had sued for divorce once before (she didn't complete the proceedings), but that was back in 1944 when Desi was a corporal in the Army, Lucy was a star at MGM and World War II was getting all the headlines. By 1960, the Lucy-Desi combine had made so many headlines that no one even bothered to look at the press-clipping scrapbooks any more, or the countless awards that had rolled in on them from all over the country. On an overcast spring afternoon, just 10 days after the divorce, Lucille Ball was sitting in her small but tastefully decorated dressing room on the Desilu lot. That morning, during a short drive over to the neighboring Paramount lot to confer with the producers of her upcoming picture with Bob Hope, she had stuck her head out the window of her chauffeur-driven car and shouted to a friend, "Hi! Remember me? I used to work at Desilu." The remark was not only typical of Lucy Ball but an unwitting reflection of her character and a classic off-the-cuff example of the laugh-clown-laugh tradition. Like most true clowns, Lucy is not a jovial, outgoing person. Her devastating sense of humor, often with a cutting edge, is reserved for her friends. In her dealings with the press she is precise, truthful - and sparing with words. A newsman asked her recently if she had plans to marry again. Lucy stared at him for a few seconds and said simply, "No." (1) The newsman felt that Lucy had missed her calling and should be rushed into the negotiations with Khrushchev forthwith. Relaxing (which is to say, at least sitting down for a few minutes) with an old friend in her dressing room that spring afternoon, Lucy alternated between abrupt sentences and spilled-over paragraphs. On the subject of her immediate plans, she talked almost as though by rote. "I start rehearsals this week for a picture with Bob Hope. It's called 'The Facts of Life.' [She did not wince at the title.] I liked it the minute I read the script and said I'd do it if Bob would. It's written and produced by Norman Panama and Melvin Frank. We have a 10-week shooting schedule. "Then I go to New York with the two children, my mother and two maids. We have a seven-room apartment on 69th Street at Lexington. I'll start rehearsals right away for a Broadway show, 'Wildcat.' It's a comedy with music, not a musical comedy, but the music is important. I play a girl wildcatter in the Southwestern oil fields around the turn of the century. It was written by N. Richard Nash, who wrote 'The Rainmaker.' He is co-producer with Michael Kidd, the director. We're still looking for a leading man. I want an unknown. He has to be big, husky, around 40. He has to be able to throw me around, and I'm a pretty big girl. He has to be able to sing, at least a little. (2) I have to sing, too. It's pretty bad. When I practice, I hold my hands over my ears. We open out of town - I don't know where - and come to New York in December. [Ed. Note: ‘Wildcat’ is now scheduled to make its debut in Philadelphia in November.] (3) "I'm terrified. I've never been on the stage before, except in 'Dream Girl' years ago. But we always filmed ‘I Love Lucy’ before a live audience. I knew a long time ago that I was eventually going to go to Broadway and that's one reason why we shot Lucy that way. But I'm still terrified. The contract for the play runs 18 months. Maybe it will last that long. Maybe longer. And maybe it will last three days." (4) The phone rang. A man's voice, the resonant kind which a telephone seems to make louder, wanted to know if Lucy would like to go out that night. Lucy's expression indicated that the whole idea was a bore but the man prattled on. He apparently had a commitment to attend a young night-club singer's act. "I've seen him twice already," Lucy said into the phone, "and his press agent is now saying I've been there eight times. If I go again the kid will be saying I'm in love with him. He's 2-feet-6 and nine years old. I don't want any part of it." The voice on the phone turned to a tone of urgent pleading. Lucy held the phone away from her at arms length and looked to the ceiling for advice and guidance. She finally hung up. "I go out because people ask me to," she said. "I have no love for night clubs, unless there's an act I especially want to see. And I don't especially want to see this kid's again." She lit another cigarette. "Nervous habit," she said. "I don't inhale, never did. Just nerves.” "I get tired too easily. The reaction is beginning to set in. I've had pneumonia twice in a year. That's not good." There was a long silence. Even for old friends, Lucy is not an easy person to talk to. "I filed for the divorce the day after I finished my last piece of film under the Westinghouse contract," she said suddenly. "I should have done it long ago." Would there ever be any more Lucy-Desi specials like those Westinghouse had sponsored? (5) She stared. "No," she said abruptly. She paused. "Even if everything were alright, we'd never work together again. We had six years of a pretty successful series and two years of specials. Why try to top it? That would be foolish. We always knew that when the time came to quit, we'd quit. We were lucky. We quit while we were still ahead." Was she happy?

Another stare. "Am I happy? No. Not yet. I will be. I've been humiliated. That's not easy for a woman." She started to talk about the recent years with Desi. She talked in a quiet, factual monotone, a voice that had been all through bitterness and was now beyond it. She talked with an implicit faith that what she was saying was off the record. It was. Some day, it was suggested to her, somebody was going to write the story. She stared. "Who would want to?" (6) She looked over at the framed picture of Desi that stood on a small table. "Look at him," she said. "That's the way he looked 10 years ago. He doesn't look like that now. He'll never look like that again." The door was opened and a spring breeze began drawing some of the heavy cigarette smoke out of the room. Lucy smiled a little and turned to her desk. "Try to write," she said finally, "more than I said but not as much as I said." 

FOOTNOTES

(1) Lucille Ball did indeed marry again - to Gary Morton (born Morton Goldaper) on November 21, 1961.  They remained married until her death. 

(2) Gordon MacRae, Jock Mahoney, and Gene Barry were considered before Lucille selected Keith Andes to play the role of Joe Dynamite. He was indeed 40 years old at the time of casting. He committed suicide in 2005. 

(3) 'Wildcat’s’ Philadelphia tryout opened on October 29, 1960. The Broadway opening had to be postponed when trucks hauling the sets and costumes to New York were stranded on the New Jersey Turnpike by a major blizzard. After two previews, the show opened on December 16th at Broadway’s Alvin (now Neil Simon) Theatre.

(4) ‘Wildcat’ ran for 171 regular performances. The show was on hiatus from February 5, 1961 through February 9, 1961 during Lucille Ball's illness. The production was to take a 9-week hiatus after June 3rd, 1961 and re-open August 7, 1961, to complete Ball’s contract, but the show closed and did not return due to Ball’s physical exhaustion. 

(5) Jenkins is referring to the 13 “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hours” which were part of the “Westinghouse-Desilu Playhouse” which continued the adventures of the Ricardos and the Mertzes, including guest stars, musical numbers, and travel-themed episodes. 

(6) Lucy and Desi’s tempestuous marriage has been the subject of several books, two television movies, an award-winning documentary, and at least one stage musical! 

TV Guide columnist Dan Jenkins had his name used by “I Love Lucy” in “Redecorating” (ILL S2;E8) in 1952 for the used furniture salesman played by Hans Conried.  His name was also mentioned in “Lucy and Ethel Buy The Same Dress” (S3;E3) as a possible emcee for their television show.  His qualifications? He plays tissue paper and comb! 

In 1953, when Lucille Ball was accused of being a Communist, the real Dan Jenkins stood up at a press conference and said “Well, I think we all owe Lucy a vote of thanks, and I think a lot of us owe her an apology.” Lucy and Desi walked over to where Jenkins was standing and gave him a huge hug. Jenkins later said, “From that time on, we were very good friends.”  His last interview with Lucy was in 1986 during “Life with Lucy.” 

OTHER ARTICLES

“Shari Lewis and her Puppets” - Lewis was a ventriloquist who’s main character was the sock puppet Lambchop.  In 1960, after years of guest-starring on television, Lewis got her own show, which lasted three years on NBC. 

“Ty Hardin’s Whirlwind Career” - Ty Hardin and his western show “Bronco” (1958-63) was ABC TV’s answer to Clint Walker’s “Cheyenne”.  

“From the Mouth’s of Babes Comes Happy’s Gimmick” - “Happy” (1960-61) was the nickname of a baby, who’s thoughts could be heard by the viewers in this one-season sitcom.  It was filmed at Desilu Studios. 

“The Untouchables - Fact and Fiction: Part 2″ - “The Untouchables” (1959-63) was a series that began on “The Westinghouse-Desilu Playhouse” and turned into a hit weekly show by Desilu. 

PHOTO FEATURES

“Linkletter’s Packing Tips” - Art Linkletter was one of television’s most popular hosts and presenters. Lucille Ball appeared on his show “House Party” in 1965 as well as a 1966 episode of “The Lucy Show” and a 1970 episode of “Here’s Lucy,” both times playing himself. 

“Connie Stevens’ Calorie Counter” - Connie Stevens was a singer and actress then playing Cricket Blake on “Hawaiian Eye” (1959-63). 

REVIEW

“Mystery Show” - was a mystery anthology series broadcast on NBC from May 1960 to September 1960 as a summer replacement for “The Dinah Shore Chevy Show” with Walter Slezak as host, except for the last three episodes, which had Vincent Price as host.

At the time Evelyn Bigsby was the Associate Managing Editor for Women’s Features at TV Guide’s Hollywood Bureau. Her name was given to the new mother (played by Mary Jane Croft) who sits next to Lucy on the plane in “Return Home From Europe” (ILL S5;E26) in 1956. 

Depending on the time zone, “I Love Lucy” was re-run every morning at 10 or 11am. Here it competed with “The Price Is Right” which was broadcast in color!  NBC (RCA) was the leader in color television and staked its claim far soon than CBS. “The Lucy Show” didn’t air in color until the fall of 1965. 

In another market, “I Love Lucy” ran weekdays at 10am. This edition (same cover and feature articles, different listings) included “Lucy” episode descriptions, while others did not. Notice that an hour earlier the same channel re-ran Desilu’s series “December Bride”. On Monday, July 18, 1960, the re-run was “Second Honeymoon” (ILL S5;E14).  From this we can logically assume that this week, in this particular TV market, channel 2 and 8 presented:

TUESDAY, JULY 19, 1960 - “Lucy Meets the Queen (ILL S5;E15)

WEDNESDAY, JULY 20, 1960 - “The Fox Hunt” (ILL S5;E16)

THURSDAY, JULY 21, 1960 -  “Lucy Goes To Scotland” (ILL S5;E17)

FRIDAY, JULY 22, 1960 - “Paris at Last” (ILL S5;E18)

On Tuesday, July 19, 1960, at 8:30pm, CBS aired the unsold pilot for "Head of the Family". The pilot had Carl Reiner as TV writer Rob Petrie, Barbara Britton as Rob's wife Laura, Sylvia Miles as Sally Rogers, and Morty Gunty as Buddy Sorrell. In 1961, CBS would score a hit with a new name and a new cast of Dick Van Dyke, Mary Tyler Moore, Rose Marie, and Morey Amsterdam, filmed at Desilu Studios. 

For American TV viewers, this was the week between the Democratic National Convention (July 11-15) and the Republican National Convention (July 25-28).  Both parties affirmed their November presidential candidates: John F. Kennedy (D) and Richard M. Nixon (R). Kennedy would prove the victor on Election Day. 

Eight years earlier, in July 1952, an estimated 70 million voters watched the broadcasts, which ended with the nominations of Adlai Stevenson II and Dwight D. Eisenhower.  Although the conventions were also televised in 1948, few Americans owned a TV set to watch them. There was a popular myth that Stevenson lost the election because of backlash from interrupting airings of “I Love Lucy” with hour-long campaign ads. Another story has Stevenson receiving a telegram from a Lucy fan that read: “I love Lucy, but I hate you.”  The situation was paralleled on “I Love Lucy” in “The Club Election” (ILL S2;E19).  By 1956, the conventions were less a novelty on television, and drew smaller ratings and less attention. In the summer of 1956, Lucy and Desi were preparing their sixth and final season of “I Love Lucy” and storylines had to revolve around big name guest stars (Orson Welles and Bob Hope) and the move to Connecticut. 

Lucille Ball’s last appearance as Lucy Ricardo was on April 1, 1960, just four and a half months before this issue of TV Guide hit the stands. She wouldn’t return to series television until September 1962, by which time Lucille will be back on the cover of TV Guide once again.  She remained a yearly fixture on the Guide cover until 1974 and then made only one more original appearance to mark her return with “Life With Lucy.” 

After this article comes out, the next time TV viewers see Lucille Ball on their home screens is to promote her film with Bob Hope, The Facts of Life, on “The Garry Moore Show” on September 27, 1960. The film opened in November 1960. 

For more about TV Guide and “I Love Lucy” click here!  

[boomboombitches-blog1]

Rain

Pairing- Joshua Hong x Fem!Reader, slight Yoon Jeonghan x Reader Genre- Angst, College AU Warnings- Major Character Death, mentions of suicide, one mention of cheating, bad ending because who actually knows how to end things well Word count- 2666 (is that a sign should i be afraid)

A/n- I listened to Rain by Taeyeon the E N T I R E time i was writing this so if you’re wondering what inspired me and u want the full experience go ahead it’s a fucking great song. I meant to make this longer but it just didn’t go that way i guess. One more thing !!!! Kinda spoiler alert but i guess u probably already figured it out so read at your own risk !!!! the vote thing i did yesterday was to decide whether to kill joshua or not because my original idea was to have him and the reader just break up and get back together but then i got ~inspired~ so thank you to everyone who voted yes it actually did help me a lot because i got to write what i was really like seeing for the story there u know but also thank you to everyone who voted no because you almost saved ya boi 

Part Two

Rainy days were always your favorite. No claps of thunder, no flashes of lightning, no sunlight warming the ground or streaking through the clouds in charming little pockets of warmth. Just drops of water, slipping weightlessly down from the grey clouds to soak the earth. To slide down your skin, drown away droughts, wash away sorrows with ironic displays of melancholy and pull it right back- make it hurt more and less all at the same time.

You were never the type to run through the rain when you didn't have an umbrella. You liked the feeling of the cool water on your skin, the period of reflection and release it gave  as you seemed to be the only one brave enough to walk out in it. Things seemed to slow down for you on a rainy day. Time would set back, the world would move on as usual with you as an exception. As people rushed about to escape the flood, you could take your time and nothing would come from it except a few stares and some heavy clothes. Usually.

You met him on a rainy day.

You were walking through the city vacant of most usual bustle- with far fewer individuals racing around. Most people called it a holiday when the rain started to pour, stayed inside to enjoy their days quietly, but you never did. Even if it meant you were soaked for class, it was worth it. Maybe not the class you were hardly that interested in (and probably wouldn't have bothered attending in the rain if not for your love for the weather,) but the excuse to get out in the rain was more than welcome. He was in your class and rode your bus, and he was walking towards the same class when he spotted you walking slowly, without an umbrella through the rain.

In a warm act of chivalry, he jogged up beside you and held his own umbrella out above your head. You were absorbed in your thoughts- so absorbed that you didn't even notice how the light dulled above you- you only came back to earth when you realized the rain had stopped falling on your skin. You glanced up from the ground and looked around, only to jump in surprise when you saw a dark blue umbrella above your head, and a boy walking in the rain beside you, politely keeping enough distance that not only was he on the opposite side of the umbrella from you, he didn't even get under it. Startled by the presence, you slipped on the wet, smooth concrete. Only then did he get under the umbrella, stepping towards you and grabbing your forearm with his free hand to steady you.

You smiled at the memory.

His hand was cold, large enough to wrap fully around your forearm, for his thumb to touch his fingers when he held you up. He smiled kindly, eyes a warm, welcoming chocolate brown as he met yours through the shade cast by the opaque fabric above your heads.

"Sorry," He said softly, voice smooth and soothing like warm milk and somehow it sent a chill through your body, hair rising on the back of your neck as goosebumps rolled over your skin. "I didn't mean to scare you," He trailed off with a soft chuckle, clearly amused at your reaction.  You couldn't help but to laugh a bit in return.

Slowly, the both of you continued walking. Silent and calm and slow, there was somewhat of a mutual agreement between you. You didn't mind having him under the umbrella as well, your shoulders almost brushing but somehow not.

"I'm Y/n." You spoke finally, far past halfway to your building. You could see it by now, were steadily approaching it though your pace was still snail-like. He seemed to be waiting for it, and immediately smiled when he heard you.

"Joshua." He replied.

He was good. You had expected he would be as your first meeting was him going out of his way to keep you dry, even if it meant him getting wet- but good as he was, he was still different from your expectations. He was kind of quiet, but mischievous. He was quick  to voice his opinions- but only where he thought they were needed. He teased his friends a lot, and he had a bit of a temper. He was a little jealous, and as hard as he tried, he was bad at hiding it. He was protective, cared about everyone. He was kind to even those who had done him harm, after he had time to calm down about it. He could sing really well and had good music taste- it seemed there was nothing he wasn't good at.

You fell for him hard, and fast. Somehow, he had done the same for you.

He asked you out on a rainy day.

Four months. You had known him four months. It started less friendly- he would walk you to class when it was raining, but only when it was raining. Then one day, he sat with you in the back. You didn't speak, just sat within each other's presence and wrote notes for your class. Then he sat there again. You sat in silence for a week- not an awkward silence, just silence- before he finally asked for your number. It wasn't awkward, it wasn't weird, it just... was.

He invited you to study with him and some friends a few days later, and you accepted. You loved his friends- their whole dynamic together was majorly amusing and welcoming- and they loved you.

You ended up with three more numbers that night. Jeonghan invited you to their next movie night, and you met a few more of their friends. You sat by Joshua, and talked more that night than you had at all previously, which was somewhat ironic considering you were supposed to be quieter during a movie than most of the other times you'd hung out. You spoke about that, too.

He invited you over to study at his house a few days later. That time, you had to postpone because you already had plans, so you went two days later instead. Soon, it was a once a week thing. He started walking you to class every day, whether it was raining or not. You noticed he always had his umbrella in his bag.

Two more weeks went by, and you grew closer and closer. The next time it rained, he asked you to be his girlfriend under his umbrella, on the walk to your school building.

"We've been on friend dates." He hummed when you asked why so sudden. "I want the real, us dates to be like that. Relaxed and familiar. No awkward first dates and being scared of making a bad impression or worrying about what to wear. Just friend dates where we're a little more than friends. I already know i like you a lot, and we get along well so i thought it might be a little less stressful to just... Rip the band-aid off."

You nodded, and he knew that was your yes as well as your 'i understand' by the way you smiled, the way your eyes lit up with warmth and the way you reached for his hand. He took your outstretched hand, smiled, and turned his gaze to the same building yours lingered on.

You both loved rainy days.

You could remember clearly all the days where you had nothing to do but be together, when the rain would fall on the sidewalks and windows of your apartment and distort the world around you so it was only you two together and you would bake and cuddle and dance- even when there was no music playing. It was cheesy and gross and awkward and you stepped on each other's sock clad toes, but you always smiled and times like that were some of your fondest memories.

You were soaked by now, but you guessed that was okay as the smile on your face and the rain dripping down your hair, down your face and smearing your makeup was more than enough to hide your tears as they melded salty, warm water with clean, cold and dripped off your chin. You couldn't stand to look at the street you had walked so many times with him, couldn't stand to imagine how his umbrella blocked the rain from getting you sick, how it distorted the light and kept you warm. It hurt so badly to imagine his footsteps, running up behind you and his warm hand reaching for your cold one as he scolded you, again, for not bringing an umbrella, telling you you would get sick and he wouldn't be able to miss another class so he could take care of you again.

But you did it anyways. You could almost hear him, feel him, smell him. But you didn't want to. Selfishly, you wanted to forget him. You were almost to class, you couldn't be crying. You can't disguise it once you're inside the building and though they've all been through it before, your whole class has seen you break down at the very mention of him, you don't want to do it again.

He left you on a rainy day.

You were arguing. You hardly remembered what about... you didn't want to anyways.  Thinking about it would only make it worse. You didn't want to make it worse. He stormed out. You tried to stop him- the worst thing to do is run out at night when you're angry and not paying attention- and your neighborhood isn't exactly the safest, either.

It wasn't too bad, people weren't killed on the daily but there had been a few attempted robberies in the time you lived there. Only at night, though. Nobody in your neighborhood went out alone after dark- except Joshua that night. You started to follow him but he hissed a "it's not safe," and gently shoved you back in your apartment, slamming the door in your face. You wanted to follow him, but he wouldn't let you. You knew he wouldn't let you.

All of the attempted robberies were women, anyways. No one was killed. No-one was even robbed, because whomever was horrible at their job. Joshua would be fine.

Joshua would be fine.

You cried, reassuring yourself of that until you fell asleep.

You stopped walking. Sobs shook your whole body, your hands reached to cover your face. You could hardly hold yourself up. You didn't want to go to class. You knew you were a mess. It had been three weeks since his funeral, you couldn't keep missing. Your knees were weak, you knew they were shaking. Your whole body was shaking. You could feel your lungs getting tighter.

You couldn't see through your tears, so you pushed your hands up a bit further to cover your eyes, only moving them when your legs gave out and you fell to your knees, hands steadying you on the concrete. There was a puddle around you, growing slowly with the rain, but you didn't care. No-one was around to see you. You still wanted to curl up and disappear- you wanted to be wherever he was and apologize and hug him and cry with him- god you hated being alone. You were so used to him holding you whenever you cried, or his soft voice comforting you over the phone, but now he was gone and you were the reason. Your head dropped to let the tears drip straight from your eyes and fall down into the puddle around you.

You shouldn't have let him go.

The phone call woke you up late. Near 2 in the morning, but you didn't mind. It was him- it had to be him. You answered quickly, your stiff muscles crying out at your sudden movement after falling asleep in an awkward position on the couch.

"Hello?"  Was all you heard before you gasped, sitting up with your hand over your mouth to hide your sobs. It wasn't him. It wasn't one of his friends. God, you would've rather it had been a girl he went and fucked on the side but no, it wasn't. "Are you Joshua Hong's girlfriend? His parents are in america, you're the closest relative he has. We need you to come down to the hospital. He... Well... I'm sorry miss. Just please come."

You rushed. You didn't want to go at all but the tiniest hope that maybe it wasn't him rung in your head but you knew better. Even so, you so desperately wanted to find out that you were wrong and he was fine. You didn't even change from your pajamas. You didn't care that you shouldn't leave your apartment alone at night- you didn't care if you were robbed or mugged or killed or what- you didn't even remember because your brain was so trained on him. Him, him, him, you had to find him, he had to be okay. You got to your car, soaking wet from the pouring rain. It was supposed to storm that weekend, there was a hurricane nearby and some of the rain traveled. You didn't care if you were soaked.

The hospital looked normal. Somehow, you expected it to be crazy. You expected it to be chaos, tears and sobs and anger and guilt- like you were feeling. But it wasn't. You were the only one, and everyone stared at the crazy woman who was sobbing, dripping rain in her pajamas and flip flops with her hair a mess and makeup staining her cheeks. Your knees almost gave out in fear and guilt and exhaustion when you stumbled up to the counter and choked out his name, stuttering on the words. The lady glanced over at an officer and a doctor who were standing together, and they nodded.

When they took you to the morgue to identify the body, that was when you broke.

It was him.

You didn't stop crying. Not when you heard his footsteps running towards you. Not when you heard him call your name, fear and worry in his voice. Not when he stopped just beside you, when his umbrella covered you and it was the same blue, cast the same shadow you recognized so well. In fact, you only cried harder. When he crouched down beside him and reached for your face, his skin warm and tan and lively unlike how it was when you last saw him. When he tilted your face to look at him, and you recognized him, but was disappointed. When his warm brown eyes met yours and the rough pad of his thumb brushed your tears away but more continued to fall.

"Yn..." He trailed off. You could hardly look at him. "Come here." He mumbled, reaching to pull you into his chest. He knew how you met, he knew what set you off. He knew his matching umbrella stung you more than it helped.

"J-Jeonghan," You stuttered in a weak cry, clinging to his warmth desperately. How could you do it? How could you go on without Joshua?

He understood everything just from how you cried out his name. Jeonghan wrapped his arm tighter around you and gently lifted you. He was trying not to cry as well, truthfully, but he had to be strong for you. You were with him, you blamed yourself even though he was the one who threw himself out in front of the car. You were hurting the most. Jeonghan was careful, he brought you back to his place because he knew you couldn't stand to go to your own, and he took care of you the way Joshua would have. The way Joshua asked him to.

He dried you off, helped you change without looking at your body, made you a warm drink and held you while you cried.

He saved you on a rainy day.

[greyred]

3x3

Three appointments in three days. 

That’s how restoration begun. 

I was pretty down mentally and physically when I wrote my last entry. But I guess you gotta hit the bottom to start all over again. Life is like a funny computer game. I remember when I was a kiddo and loved playing Tetris, when levels got too easy, I would smash the blocks to bottom randomly before fixing them up, so the game would be more interesting, would give more tension, resistance. Thrill. My whole life have been seeking for thrills. Subconsciously. And now I don’t know any better. As with past weeks I managed to get my life back on track I also ended up picking up a new hobby that is definitely thrilling and highly dangerous. I’ve been past weeks sober, in order to balance my body and mind, but my soul has still life on it’s own. And now it feeds on speed and cars. Don’t get me wrong! I’m not talking about drugs! I’m back in zero-tolerance again as I’ve always been. I’m talking about speed that you can reach with driving a machine, an automobile. New friends, new hobbies. Right now there is nothing more thrilling than driving 200 km/h while being totally sober and feeling like you will have a heart attack any second. Or you will literally crash and be dead. Heh.. lucky i’m somewhat suicidal, so I don’t really care. But on those little seconds when you think ‘Oh MY God We gonna crash!’ in that small break in a second - I feel like I do want to live after all. Because the danger of death is as close to touch, it becomes a very real thing. And something you can not really control. Depends on a way you decide to take your own life you still have a backing up time. But not at a highway! And that pure sober adrenaline that I have been enjoying lately have oddly given me back a will to live.

Now going back on those 3x3 days when all this started. The satisfaction of accomplishment is one of the best depression cures. It’s not the pills (medication for depression like AD’s) that cure you, it’s your actions. It’s not how medicated zombie you are, it’s what you do with your time all in all. That’s why I don’t believe in pills. Essentially they’re just legal drugs. I believe in therapy. Fresh, powerful, motivating ideas and ways how to accomplish tasks in your life. Or how to simply enjoy little pleasures. It all starts from little things, you get up and do one, just one thing in your house that you have been postponing. The satisfaction will give you motivation to do more. It will come by it’s own. You just gotta give it a little push at first, to get the ball rolling. Eventually you get “high” on completing different obstacles that at first seemed impossible. First you get things done, secondly you boost up your mood and confidence and in the end you feel proud, guilt-free. Accomplishments. 

Sounds easy to say, right ? Let me tell you how I got my ball rolling. I knew I had appointments and responsibilities to follow, so I pulled my big-boy pants up and got myself outside. The scary outside, with people and places. Three places to be in one day, three days to follow. Everything on time. I executed them well, until it was an hour to meet a temporary social worker for my boring but important paperwork. Let’s say, sometimes you don’t click with another human being. And that’s that. This happens and it’s nothing to worry about. We don’t have to click with everyone. I think she might have lacked of social skills, because I got two panic attacks in her office, first one i dodged, the second one was unavoidable, so I had to leave the building at once. On my way back to home, counting minutes in metro, I got somehow frustrated about that unfortunate situation. I had still 2 appointment to follow after that one but I was fleeing home like a coward. Yes the understandable side of me accepted it. This happens, nothing to be anguished about, you can continue next day if needed. But I got frustrated because I felt like one unfortunate person in my day had ruined not only my mood but also my plans. And I love my plans. I love making lists, and following them strictly. How could I get the “high” of accomplishment if I will just let this happen and run away? As the metro drove in direction to home I suddenly got up and walked out. Not at my home stop. At the stop where was going to happen my next task. I was too mad to give up. I was rebelling! Rebelling against my own panic attack. Took all that anger and converted it into energy. Pure energy. Despite of awful weather, despite of panic attack and public & social anxiety, I was just a raw power that decided not to run, but fight back. And that’s how I accomplished the rest of the tasks. I did them one by one. I could have turned back to home any time I wanted, but I didn’t. With every step further, I gained more power. I was playing that life’s Computer Game with fury.

And in the end of the day I was yet again - proud of myself. It was all worth it. Perhaps that unpleasant person was a good thing after all. I try to find something good in bad moments. It sure was an efficient exercise served by life itself. And yes, there will be bad days where you don’t really feel like going anywhere and that’s fine too. But also there will be better days when you will have the strength to impress not only people around you but the most importantly - Yourself. One is sure, nothing will happen when you sit at home surrounded with your own haunting, overthinking demons. The most hardest thing to do with depression is going out, the most effective cure for depression is going out. I know the feeling of controversy. Yet.. No one will do and live your life other than yourself! Always, remember that.

What comes to my social life. If anyone can handle my sharp ups-and-downs right now being besides me then the Marine seem to be progressing in that area. Which is quite refreshing. I’m very used to the fact that it takes a few months for one to grow to know each other until you can see a person behind the mask. And I sure am one hard candy! Yet without words I feel how he really tries to understand me. We don’t have to talk about every little perspective and detail and a tail of the thought and idea as I’ve had to do in the past. It’s like a mutual understanding of each other. That’s something you can share only with a person who have seen life more than a regular bloke. Been in a long relationship as well. I’m glad he has kids from past relationship, because I sure will not reproduce. And I’m entirely aware that one day I still might fcuk this thing up. But I no longer live in the shadow of fear of that. I love the way how easy he makes everything. We just are. No restricting specific boundaries. All that corny nonsense that you have been copy-pasting from one person to another and in your brain you know it’s going to lead to nowhere. I am taking this one differently. Am lucky and grateful with a reasonable and understanding companionship. And enjoying while it lasts. And if one day shall be the last day, then that will be enjoyed in it’s full as well! 

You learn from mistakes. We all do. We educate ourselves with experiences and situations, with people and time. As we grow older we learn how to adapt and overcome. And the number of mistakes, which should rather be called lessons of life, varies from a person to person. We are all different. And that is okay. You should not race your life achievements with no one else than yourself. People in your life come and go, yearning for past will only do harm. Sometimes people come and stay, sometimes they leave, sometimes they are not worth of your time and energy. For instance I tried to stay friends with ex-bf, Sancho. I usually manage to break up in good terms. But sometimes it’s simply impossible. How ever tolerable I was with his quirks, he still managed to go full-psycho on me in the end and made it simply impossible to keep any communication in future. Sometimes I have to make a hard decision and just delete person from my life. As I have done it before. He played his cards himself, no one else to blame. And it’s not just that, it’s with everyone in your life. It’s acknowledging that your time and your energy is the highest value you own. And using and directing it in useful ways. My psychologist told me - I should be more selfish and learn how to say ‘No’. As I’m disastrously selfless when it comes to sharing my time with people. Sometimes I would promise to meet someone, or go somewhere just because I didn’t know how to refuse. And later suffer in all of my politeness. I think I’m getting better in not consenting the vibe. We should all be more selfish with our time. Only so little to spend in this chaotic planet. Shouldn’t we aim for complacency. And yet still be motivated to desire for more, progress, move on. Yet not to forget to stop time to time and feel and enjoy the achievements and little beautiful moments. For the life is never done, it’s never complete. It will keep on going with it’s beautiful chaotic ups-and-downs as it did before us and as it shall continue after us. Just like people come and go in your life, it’s just the same with the whole existence.

There’s miles to pass and I’m not in a hurry. Life changes in every second and for me personally it have been rich in colors, abundant in experiences, I’m curious where it will take me. And I’m happy to share my observations with my readers. 

I am once again in the verge of change. If that already hasn’t happened. I believe I have given a good push for this ball to start rolling. And I’m keen to pursue. The change comes when you want it for yourself because of yourself. I believe that is the most effective way. If you wish to change for someone else, then no matter how long you play this game - you will always be dependent of that person’s presence. Like I was once dependent of my ex-husband for so many years. Now after all those battles with life and myself I feel I have never been more independent like now. I’m able to fill my own tasks. And need no one to hold my hand. In past half year especially I have changed a lot, or maybe I should say - grown a lot. I am more selfish. And I will not drag anyone with me, nor shall i hitchhike on someone’s else’s back. I am what I am today. And tally with people and surroundings that make me feel home. That doesn’t mean one couldn’t obtain inspirations from other rooms. That is called healthy development, yes I just made up a new statement and agree with that thought of mine. I reflect and write about my own beliefs and views. I recognize and respect that people have different ways to create and cope. This right here is mine. 

--

Last night I saw a vivid dream that I saved the world. In this real life here, one should start with oneself. 

This time it started with 3 x 3 days. And have ever since multiplied. We’ll go up and down, and up and down. And heed every moment.

[sabrinavictoria82]

Stop with the incessant scrolling already.

Are you even paying attention to your life? I certainly wish I had paid more attention to mine. Maybe if I share a tad bit about my life you would find we have a few things in common and you would start to focus differently on your life. Everyone likes a good dramatic story. Yes? 

If I were going to be completely honest I would say my life has been anything but easy. It’s actually been quite difficult. And to some, they may say, a total shit show. But to that point, there really is no one to blame but myself. Every issue, struggle and problem that came my way had one common denominator, ME. 

Looking back I realize the roll I played in the destruction of my life and where it has led me up to this point. I am grateful for my ability to be able to think outside the box, and realize that I don’t know nearly as much as I once thought I did, and I don’t know nearly as much now as I think I do. I didn’t know it at the time but I had taken on the roll of a codependent victim pretty early in life. Having a complete lack of boundaries and absorbing people’s negative words about myself as absolute truths rather than just opinions. I was constantly seeking approval and sacrificed my own morals and comfort in fear of making other people upset with me. I ran from any kind of confrontation, and went to great lengths to avoid it. I was completely preoccupied with how other people viewed me, and completely lost sight of how I viewed myself. This lack of confidence effected my entire life and although I didn’t see it at the time, I see it clear as day now.

I remember from as young as 8 years old, I was on vacation with my parents. I had left my purple hip purse in a bathroom stall at a pit stop. I noticed about 25 minutes after leaving the pit stop, but it took me about 15-20 minutes to gain enough fortitude to say something. At this point we were almost an hour away. My parents obviously didn’t turn around. I lost all my chore money that day, $22, and I was devastated. That is my earliest memory of feeling a real loss regarding my own actions, and you would have thought that would have jolted me into gaining a voice. But it didn’t, it actually got worse as I got older.

First, in my defense, I didn’t know it then, but all human decisions are made to either avoid pain or gain pleasure. Second, to make things even more interesting, people will do much more to avoid pain than to gain pleasure. Third, and this is a show stopper, it isn’t based on actual pain and pleasure, it’s based on your perception of what that pain or pleasure WILL be. Which our imaginations are wild, so our perception is incredibly flawed.

This is why I ended up in those compromising situations 1, 2, 3, 6+ times where a boy was allowed to take advantage of me. My flawed perception of the disappointment, or uncomfortable feelings I would ignite if I stood my ground caused me to allow these situations to escalate. Lacking complete confidence in myself to do (or not do) what I deemed as appropriate behavior, but allowing them to do as they pleased.  That was me. I could have done things differently, but my extreme lack of confidence coupled with my desire to people please landed me in these confusing situations.

Hopefully at this point you are having a couple ah-ha moments for yourself, but either way I’m about to add another layer right here. We are complex creatures, as humans, and we are guided by more than just pain and pleasure. We are also guided by our love languages. For those of you that have never heard of a love language, there are 5 of them. Depending on which love language you are, there are repercussions for linking up with someone who does not have your love language, or does not understand your love language. To break it down, 23% of the population is moved by Words of Affirmation, 20% needs Quality Time, 20% looks for Acts of Service, 19% needs Physical Touch and 18% needs to Receive Gifts in order to feel loved. Everyone has a dominant love language and a 2nd tier love language. My two are physical touch and acts of service. Now physical touch does not mean anything sexual, it is the EXACT opposite of anything sexual.  But you can easily see how physical touch can EASILY be misconstrued by someone who does not have that language and does not understand that language. This meant that not only was I dealing with a strong desire to touch and be touched in order to feel loved (hand holding, caressing and holding) I was also dealing with not wanting to displease anyone who took my ‘physical touch advances’ the wrong way and thus put me in several morally uncomfortable situations throughout my life. 

This is how a girl like me ends up pregnant out of wedlock before her 21st birthday. I was showing my love language of physical touch and was then too hesitant to stop the momentum of the situation in fear of hurting my partners feelings, causing discomfort or upsetting the moment. I was also too naive to know about birth control, and was too nervous to request he wear a condom. That was me. I didn’t say anything. Unfortunately, because I was not educated with ANY of this information, I was led to believe that I was just an immoral, disobedient individual who had no regard for her body, her love for a god, or her family. This created a mess for my subconscious mind with feelings of inadequacy, unworthiness, shamefulness and maliciousness.  In reality I was just being a human, the human that I am, following the instincts and natural tendencies that I was born with or was born into.

Walking around as a pregnant unworthy, weak, incompetent, manipulative young women it’s easy to see how this situation could lead someone down a hole of suicidal thoughts, hate and frustration. I was alone, pregnant, uneducated in the things that mattered and was desperate to survive. I took on the identity of a victim, my life was beating me up, one hit after another. 

The following is a list of a few of those hits, because I know you don’t have all day.

Not wanting to inconvenience anyone (because at this point I viewed myself as a huge inconvenience), I bought a car on my own for the first time, I got ripped on the interest rate. I was paying a car payment for an 8 year old Toyota Camry as if it was a brand new BMW. That was me, I went in by myself, uneducated and unprepared. 

About two months after that, when my son was a few months old, I broke up with his father. Instead of sticking around and helping with bills and spending quality time with his son, he left the state and left me high and dry with an apartment, a car payment, a phone, a baby and all the bills. There are NO words for how this felt, it was overwhelming to a level that I do not have the vocabulary to express. I could have taken action to get him to pay child support. I didn’t. My victim mindset had me living in a space of victimhood. Victims don’t fight, they cower like a scared mouse in the corner.

The snow ball effect from not receiving child support eventually led to my car getting repoed, and a few months later I started to receive eviction notices on my apartment door. I didn’t even try to fight my son’s father for child support. I just let his lame excuses fill my ears over the phone as I cried and begged for any financial help. I didn’t make one phone call to one lawyer. I was a victim, giving up all my power.

This financial distress found me in the arms of a financially stable man who led me on a 13 year whirlwind disaster of a relationship. Moving in with him and over the course of a few years giving up control over my phone, my car and my job. This gave him complete power to punish me randomly throughout the week, threatening to cancel my phone service, threatening to kick my son and I out of his house and hiding the car keys with the excuse of it ‘not’ being my car. Having absolutely no foundation to base what is acceptable behavior in a situation where a man takes a broken, sinful, unworthy girl from penniless to a stable home, I accepted this as ok conduct.

Not long after that, being completely fooled by my sons father, when he asked to take my son on a summer get-a-way. Being torn between the fact that I had not received child support for 11 years and not wanting to be the one to keep my son from his father, I allowed my son to go. The day my son was due back to me, I received an email from my son’s father stating he would ‘take it from here’ and ‘thank you for taking care of him for 11 years.’ This forced me to obtain a lawyer and fight back and forth for 12 months to gain back what was already mine (full custody and child support), this drained my savings account of $15,000 and racked up a credit card bill to $3000. Looking back, I should have contacted a lawyer years ago and gained legal rights over my son to protect myself from this mess. But my false perception of what sort of pain that would cause me led me to hesitate for 11 years too long, putting me in this situation. 

That loss of $18,000 caused my entire life to be set back because that was the money I was planning to use to escape my narcissist partner at the time. My entire plan was postponed, and I had to start ALL over again from -$3,000. 

This was all me, everything I mentioned above happened because of my own misunderstandings of how I work as a human. And this is what I want to stress to you. It’s hard sometimes to take ownership of EVERYTHING that happens in your life, especially when it seems obvious that it’s someone else’s fault. It can also be difficult when you realize that the majority of your issues stem from not having the correct education or mindset to be able to make informed decisions regarding what you know about yourself and your weaknesses.  But the awesome thing about accepting complete blame for all the circumstances, no matter what they are, is that you also get to take complete ownership of all the awesome things you have done. For instance. 

There are many options for pregnant mothers now in days. I choose to give birth to my son, and I choose to keep my son. He is now 16. That was me. I did that!

Going above and beyond what was emotionally and mentally bearable to provide for my son, because his father was useless for the first 11 years of his life.  That was me. I did that!

Forgiving my son’s father and moving on with my life. Not talking bad about him to my son all these years. So that my son can grow up confident and strong with little to no guilt or shame as a child. That was me. I did that!

Although I never abused alcohol, I did see the effect it was having on my mental health over the weekends. So 14 years ago I choose to never drink again. It drastically improved my mental, emotional and physical health and has saved me tons of money that I am now able to save and invest with. That was me, I made that decision. I did that. 

All the emotional and mental turmoil I endured throughout these years had me thinking of drugs, alcohol and suicide on a weekly bases. How easy it would have been to just give up, throw in the towel and become another statistic. Run away and never look back. But I didn’t do those things. That was me. I stood strong. 

I recently purchased another car. I went into the dealership with two educated individuals. Fully prepared after reading books, forums and watching how to videos. I walked out paying exactly what I wanted, and saved over $10,000 in interest rates because I had cash. BOOM. Who learned from their last experience and educated herself so she wouldn’t over pay again? That was me. I did that. 

Getting a lawyer, and spending $18,000 of my hard earned money to stand up against a man who was financially abusing me for 11 years by withholding child support, and then WINNING. That was me. I now have full custody and receive monthly child support! I did that! Like a boss.

Taking a considerable amount of years and secretly educating myself to create several different avenues of online income and saving money so I can leave that narcissistic relationship. That was me. I did that! 

Walking away from a financially stable relationship of luxury and money because I educated myself on the emotional, mental and financial abuse that was happening within the home. That was me. I did that. I humbled myself by moving into my own place. I was living on a mattress on the floor for months until I was able to slowly collect used furniture from Goodwill, the side of the road and from friends. I made myself a new home for my son and I. That was me. I did that! 

Becoming the CEO and founder of my own coaching company that now has over 40,000 followers (and growing!) across all platforms.  Inspiring others worldwide and helping endlessly amounts of people break through and discover their own untapped talents and immense potential by sharing my own stories of failures and triumphs. That was me. I did that! 

Being moved by the destruction of the fast fashion industry on the environment, I created and launched my own up cycling fashion design company. Using recycled clothes to save them from the landfills. That was me. I did that!

Allowing myself to love again, even though so many men in my life have abused, taken advantage of, and lied to me. That was me. I did that! 

Never giving up, staying positive through it all, and always looking forward… rather than dwelling on the past. Knowing there has to be more, educating myself beyond what deems necessary. That was me. I did that!

It wasn’t always ‘that easy’. There were a million tears shed. There were suicidal thoughts. There were nights of wanting to give up. There was yelling and screaming and crying. There was pointing blame and feeling absolutely helpless on multiple levels. But I never gave up. I kept going, and that is why I am here sharing my story, with you. I know there have been times in your life you have wanted to give up, throw in the towel and just be complacent in your life. You may have decided to be mediocre and have put your dreams and desires aside because you are tired of fighting and tired of trying. You are sick of being let down and sick of failing. But I am here to tell you that the fight IS worth the reward. Trust your gut, keep pushing forward and continue to move towards your dreams, whatever that might be. 

We all make mistakes, we all do things that are out of character either out of emotional distress or just being naive to the truth. That is ok. You are allowed to change your mind and do things differently. You are allowed to go in a different direction even if the entire world is expecting you to go in another direction. I am here to tell you that I support you, just know that no matter which direction you go in there will be a story, a repercussion and you have to be ready and willing to handle that with strong shoulders and a positive attitude. 

This is your life, and you have the ability to speak up, turn down, or change the trajectory of your life at any moment. Now, this is where it gets tricky, because knowing this is great for you, until you realize that everyone has this right, and your ability to be able to control the people in your life flies out the window… but that my friends will be saved for another post. Until next time, follow me here. 

Do something awesome today.

Much love,

Sabrina Victoria

[wonderfuls-worlds]

Mystic Messenger : Saeran/Ray and his Borderline Personality Disorder

STOP SAYING BULLSHIT ABOUT SAERAN !

Major spoiler about Ray in V's route, careful !

Somes themes might trigger you, be careful too !

I will talk about a mental illness, everyone have DIFFERENT symptoms ! IT IS NOT A GLOBAL VIEW on BPD PEOPLE ! Some borderline won't relate to his !

It’s a VERY PERSONAL article, a lot of you won’t like it, don’t feel force to read it !!

I am quite upset about all the comments about Saeran/Unknown/Ray in Mystic Messenger, all these comments saying "he is so unhealthy, a relationship could have never worked with someone like him anyway", "he is so manipulative, he never really loved us, you shouldn't get attached to much to him because he is fake" etc. STOOOPPPPPPP !!!!

It will be a tad long so you might don't want to read it if you don't know Mystic Messenger ^^'

Why I said that the mental illness of Saeran is the BPD ? Because Saeran's VA confirmed in the talk interview than you can unlock after the doing the secrets endings, but also because he has almost all the symptoms of the BPD (please, first of all remember that every person who have BPD don't have the same symptoms. It's very different for everyone) :

Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandon

A pattern of intense and unstable relationships with family, friends, and loved ones, oftenswinging from extreme closeness and love (idealization) to extremedislike or anger (devaluation)

Distorted and unstable self-image or sense of self

Impulsive and often dangerous behaviors, such as spending sprees, unsafe sex, substance abuse,reckless driving, and binge eating

 Recurring suicidal behaviors or threats or self-harming behavior, such as cutting

 Intense and highly changeable moods, with each episode lasting from a few hours to a few days

Chronic feelings of emptiness

Inappropriate, intense anger or problems controlling anger

Having stress-related paranoid thoughts

Having severe dissociative symptoms, such as feeling cut off from oneself, observing oneself fromoutside the body, or losing touch with reality

(source)

And finally... I have the borderline personality disorder. So I will try to make you understand the behaviour of Saeran by telling some of my personal stories.

Let's talk about Saeran now !

The fear of being abandoned (or also "gosh that guy is so toxic!")

Saeran was abandoned by his twin brother, he was left behind while he was suffering and beaten by his biological mother. Rika "took care of him" by actually brainwashing him and telling him that Saeyoung gave up on him and blablabla.

Because of his experience, he became afraid of being abandoned. More of being alone, it's really to be abandoned by someone he loves.

He is so, so afraid of being abandoned that he will makes all the efforts of the world to make us (MC) love him a bit. He is so scared that even when he knows that Rika manipulates him he said he didn't care to be used as long as it made her stay by his side (he said that in a chat of Day 10 | Another Story).

That's how he is desperate to not being abandoned. Some people are saying "he is just fucked up and unhealthy", but that is not it ! He constantly thinks that if he is abandoned, it is HIS FAULT ! He want to be forgiven and to make you stay, he will double his efforts, thinking that it's the way to say sorry, please don't leave me alone! You don't know how hard it is for us, borderline, to try to put things into perspective and realise that it's life that people have to leave some day... it's so hard and painful...

I'll talk a bit personally but now, even if my heart is craving to love someone because I have so much to give, I don't want to be in a relationship because I am scared of myself. I do not trust myself, I will live with paranoids thoughts. I know that if I get too much attached, I will freak out if the person I love cancel an appointment with me, postpone a promise, don't answer to me. Simple things that almost everyone are afraid of right ? But borderline people... it's much more that just being scared. If someone don't text us back soon, it they postpone a meeting, we will think that they HATE us, we did something wrong, they will ABANDON us, but we don't want to be abandoned ! Quick ! We need to make something that will make them happy, anything ! We are so scared to being abandoned that even an imagined abandonment make us having a irational behaviour, make us cry so hard...

That's why Saeran makes so much effort toward you, it's because he is scared you leave him like everyone, but he is so scared that he did something wrong and you actually HATE him. Some of you are pissed off that he needs to be reassure that you won't abandon him...Well that's a bit inhuman to be pissed off by a mental disorder (whatever disorder it is actually)............

Note : people aren't born being borderline...... Saeran developped it through being abandoned, so do I....

The dichotomous thinking (or also "he is crazy and fake")

Saeran can love instantly, you don't know how much love he has in him, he could love you so deeply, unconditionally and intensily, giving you everything you want, but Saeran can changes abruptly his behaviour : he can hates you in a unconditional way. We have that black and white vision.

Personally, it's very hard for me to control that, it's a fight of everyday, I have to measure my words, my actions, thinking carefully to act normaly. I can deeply love you, idealize you and suddently, if you make a mistake toward me, I can reject you totally and completely, I don't expressively show that side because I work on it (unless if we are really intimate and you're my lover, I will low down my guard and let you see my feelings).

For Saeran, his loving side is directed toward us, but hatred to Saeyoung. Of course the drug of Rika didn't fix things.....

Saeran is not fake, his brains runs very quickly, he assimiled things very very quickly and can pass to a second to love and hatred. Saeran is actually splitted : Ray (love) and Unknown (hatred).

Sensitiveness side (or also "he is a crybaby!")

I have also seen cold comments like "he is acting like a fucking baby" "how can he cry so much about little things", and you know what ? I just want to cry too by reading these comments. We, borderline people, are so fucking sensitive. Common people have something called the emotional skin, they have a barrier who can contains some feelings, that's why some people don't cry directly when they experiment, see, read something sad. People have a shield in them. That shield is thick or thin depending to people, but they do have a shield. Borderline people ? They do NOT HAVE THAT SHIELD AT ALL! Yes, Saeran was crying about a plant... Guess what ? When he TOLD his story I had too tears on my eyes. We can cry so easily. Love so easily. Hate so easily. We can cry to anything so so so easily. That's how we are.

My ex told me I was like a child (he was a jerk) but didn't understand a single thing about me, that I could cry easily and that is how I am ! And we should be respected !

The question of the manipulation (or also "he actually is manipulating us!!!!!!")

No, in any case he manipulated you. He did so much efforts to make you happy, he loved you so much because you were the one who opened to him easily, but he never manipulated you. Yes he lied to you. But his affection wasn't fake. Actually it's Rika who ordered to bring MC in Mint Eye.... You aren't being manipulated. And you know what ? He WAS being manipulated by Rika. Like I said, he kinda knew but didn't care as long as he wasn't alone.

I was so heartbroken to see on the net people who categorized borderline people as manipulators last time. But that is so untrue... (guess what, people who wrote that article didn't have the borderline personality disorder).

In all honestly, I was twice being manipulated and lied (my two previous relationships were with jerks....) but I was so in love and scared to being abandoned that I turned a blind eye and still gave them my entire soul and let them manipulated me !Until I decided to open my eyes again and realise that I will be happier alone than being with jerks...

Suicide (major spoil go away!)

At the end of Day 10 (V's route), Saeran decides to kill himself. He was abandoned by his brother, he felt he was abandoned by Rika too because she was going crazy about V, he was abandoned by you. He had no where else to go, so he decided to end his life. I cried for days after clearing V's route, I cried so much about Saeran, that character who had similiar common points with me.

The sad thing, borderline people (again, the symptoms aren't COMMON FOR EVERYONE!) has that tendancy to think about suicide randomly. It's actually my case, happy or sad, whenever I see these rails where I take my train, I think about suicide (DON'T WORRY ! I WILL NEVER DO IT ! AND DO NOT DO IT, YOU HAVE SO MUCH TO LIVE !), but you know it's just very random.

7/10 of borderline people think about suicide, and 1/10 actually does it.

Identity crisis (or also "wait, omfg, who he is ? Saeran? Unknown? Ray??!")

BPD can be linked with multiple personalities, it what happened to Saeran. It's the difference I have with him, Saeran splitted in two personalities, Ray and Unknown but I don't have multiple personalities like him.

For me, when I am very borderline, it’s more the dissociative symptom, I just have blank moments and wonder who I am and why I am doing this or this. I often happened to ask to my friends who knew about my mental illness to ask who are they and why we were friends. Why they love me ? Sometimes I don't understand how people can love me, I think that everything is fake, the love I receive is fake and it happened to Saeran too !

He wasn't sure if your affection for him was real sometimes... Sometimes I don't believe in love and run away from people, because I'm scared to be in that vicious circle again : I love someone, but they waren't actually very interested in me (interested just by the unconditional affection I gave to them) and lie to me before abandoning me.

CONCLUSION : Borderline Personality Disorder is a real mental illness.

A lot of you said it's unhealthy to date someone like Ray/a borderline but actually... it's people who made us mentally ill in a way.

And you know, if you love me, I will love you 100000000 more, it's just that I need to be reassured from time to time that I won't being abandoned, I will cry my soul some nights by thinking that I'm not good enough for you and I deserve to be abandoned. Most of the time, I love a lot of people but I refrain myself to be too close to them because I don't want to be abandoned first. Today I'm single, and I want to love and be loved but I don't want to fall for a jerk again who won't love me for who I really am, so I prefer to be alone rather to live again that feeling of chaos, of being abandoned. And do not make promise to me/borderline peeps, I know that people do a lot of promises they can't keep, because if you do that to a borderline, it will just trigger them more... (alias when MC promised to not abandon Ray....). BUT there is hope ! In the secrets endings, Saeran finds the help he needed. in that article "inspirational themes and lessons in Mysme" I wrote that those who have mental illness should accept the affection of their relatives, and the help they need. I do feel very sensitive, but I will always remember my friends who supported me after being broken by two jerks who manipulated me.

According to the secrets endings, Saeran finds his happiness. ;)

Reblog if you can, let’s bring some light and knowledge about Saeran’s illness and the borderline personality disorder !!

[oumakokichi]

Thoughts regarding hoshi?

Oh, thank you anon! It’s been a while since I’ve had anotherquestion about Ryouma, and he was one of the very first characters I got totalk about on this blog. The first ask is here if you want to see it!

I’m very fond of him overall. I don’t think there’s everbeen a character in DR quite like him before, and I found him perhaps one ofthe most relatable characters among the ndrv3 cast. There have been manyvictims in DR before, and many characters who have been depressed or miserableor upset, but I don’t think there’s ever been any other characters beforeRyouma who just straight up did not want to live anymore, and yet remainedconflicted over their own desire to die.

DR is usually pretty straightforwardly about characters who wantto survive no matter what, and arewilling to do questionable things in order to attempt that. Even if a characterkills themselves, it’s almost always a willing thing of self-sacrifice, andnever a matter of, “No, actually, they legitimately really just did not want tokeep living anymore.” And before ndrv3 I think there was always this kind ofassumption that having a character who was like that would be “uninteresting”or “predictable” (in case anyone’s guess for one of the trials was suicide,like with Sakura’s), and that there’d be no real way to pull an audience in.

But the thing is, by virtue of being so understandable andso distinctly human, Ryouma’s urge to just die because he feels like there’s noincentive for him to keep going is actually very interesting. What’sinteresting too is how he’s distinctly sympathetic and humanized, while alsostill somewhat flawed. Ryouma wants to give up and die, yes, and in Chapter 1he even makes comments about how he’ll “take one for the team” basically anddie if it means postponing the 2 day time limit. But the thing is, doing so andagreeing to die so easily for the sake of dying and inviting anyone to comemurder him still carries with it the risk that everyone might actually guesswrong, and might all end up dying at the school trial. And that’s a risk Ryoumadoesn’t really consider or stop to think about when he makes those kinds ofcomments.

And I can completely understand, because if I were in asuper stressful, super tense situation like a killing game and being constantlysurrounded by doubt and trauma, my first instinct would also probably be “I can’thandle this anymore, I wish I were just dead.” It’s really, truly anunderstandable reaction, and in situations where you feel as if no one reallycares or would miss you when you’re gone, it’s hard to truly feel as if yourdeath would have any real consequences or meaning to it.

Something worth mentioning that I haven’t seen a lot ofother people point out, too: I really, honestly love Kirumi, and I think shewas an incredibly interesting culprit, and super interesting from thestandpoint of (like many other ndrv3 characters) definitely having emotional attachmentsto the group but still being incredibly emotionally manipulative regardless.And therefore, when Kirumi told the group her “whydunnit” just before herexecution, I do think she was lying on many points.

She claims that by telling Ryouma about her video and askinghim to die for the sake of the country, that he simply turned around and gaveup his life willingly, without any sort of hesitation, because he had justgiven up. But the more I look back on Chapter 2, the more I feel like her claimdoesn’t make sense. If that were the case, why the necessity of drowning him? She hit him on the headenough to disorient him, dragged him to the sink, forcibly drowned him, andeven used handcuffs. None of the things Saihara brings up in the climaxreasoning really mesh with Kirumi’s own supposed version of events—and thismakes sense from the perspective that she’s lying.

We know she was attempting to manipulate the group intofeeling sorry for her (hence why before she even started explaining, she said, “You’llbe sorry when I tell you”) and that she wanted them to even try and lay down theirlives for her by rebelling against Monokuma because of how much importance she holds“in the outside world.” Hence, she definitely would want to avoid talking aboutRyouma as anything other than a willing victim who she chose only because hewas the most willing and ready for the job.

But I think there are plenty of indicators, including Ryouma’sFTEs and the comic relief scene in which he and Saihara are running from Gonta,in which he indicates that despite feeling so miserable and as if he has noincentive to live on, he also very much doesn’twant to die, and feels frustrated and more than a little conflicted that hekeeps trying to put up a self-image of being very cool and composed andabsolutely willing to die at a moment’s notice, but still has these lingeringregrets.

I think most people here on Tumblr in particular can reallyrelate to that aspect of Ryouma. I myself can relate. It’s only natural that he’snot sure whether he really wants to keep going or not because he ultimatelylacks direction, and in struggling to find it he has to accept the fact thatmaybe he doesn’t want to die as much as he thinks he does.

What Kirumi insisted was Ryouma “giving up” and “offeringher his life willingly” was, I think, Ryouma just having a prettystraightforward breakdown. It wasn’t a plea for death, it wasn’t a straightforward“sure, go ahead, kill me,” it was just that he was miserable and upset and verydistraught over his own motive video’s contents, and Kirumi took it uponherself to assume that he was just givingup, and killed him without hesitation or mercy. It was a murder, make nomistake, but I think the fact that she phrased it in a way that would be morebeneficial to herself made a lot of people confused and they took herexplanation at 100% face value, which has been pretty unfortunate for Ryouma.

I really enjoy Ryouma as a character and I’m still extremelygrateful that he’s perhaps one of the first DR “joke characters” who hasn’texisted strictly for perverted comic relief in some capacity. They really madehim an enjoyable figure in the group, and a sympathetic one, and he wasincredibly sweet and badass simultaneously. Thank you for asking me about himagain anon! I hope I’ll keep seeing good Ryouma art in the tags from here onout!

[actuallynotsatisfied]

Hello world! (Day 1)

I’m new here. Recently I feel like I’m not really in control of my life anymore and everything I do seems to go wrong. So I figured starting a blog could actually help me a lot, you know, like in the movies, haha.

I’ll start by introducing myself: I’m 18 years old and currently live in Germany. I’m 170cm tall and weigh about 64kg. I have brown hair, green eyes and kind of a big nose. At least that’s what my Mom once told me as I was casually chatting with her. :D Oh, and I’m gay! That’ll be important if you’ll follow my blog in the future. I’ll keep my name and stuff anonymous as of now, since I feel like it’s better for me. But who knows, maybe one day that’ll change?

This is the first time I use Tumblr in a proper way. I’ve had many accounts on here before, though. They were primarily to watch funny things or porn so an actual “unproper” way, haha. But I think that I finally found a good use for this site now. 

I’ve had depression before and was in therapy. I never cut myself or tried to commit suicide, but I was thinking about it. Anyway, therapy was kinda successful and I felt a lot better. However it seems that that was only temporary, as I feel like shit at the moment. I thought about calling my old therapist again to make an appointment, and I know I should to that, but it just feels wrong because she used to tell me I was making great steps towards recovery. So calling her again would kind of fell like a disappointment (Not that I’m not used to disappointing people by now).

Since I wrote so much already and I don’t want to bore anyone with my rather boring life, I’ll try to talk about my problems in short now. :)

It all started on the 21st of October. I was working at an amusement park and there was this Halloween event where the park was open until 10pm. And during my work shift I “met” someone. Twice actually. First time was in the middle of the day. I was standing there at the grill, making burgers and I looked into the line at the checkout-thingy (you know, where you pay for the stuff you just ordered) and there was this cute guy, staring at me. And he just wouldn’t look away. Once he left I told my friend about it who was working with me in that burger store. She said, that I probably just imagined that. And I figured that she must’ve been right. However, later in there evening, just before the park was supposed to close, that guy (and his family) came back to the store I was working in and ordered a meal. I again saw him staring at me and this time, after they got their food, they sat down at a table next to our store. At first I didn’t recognize him, but his staring along with me remembering his sister lead to me to the idea, that that could’ve been the exact same guy from a couple hours ago. I was talking to my friend and she said that this was my chance. I didn’t know what to do. And so I did the most cliché thing I could think of: Writing my phone number on a piece of paper and handing it to him alongside a cup of coke. Well except I didn’t do it but gave the paper and the coke to my friend instead so she could walk up to him as I was just to scared and terrified. Looking back that was a mistake but it didn’t really matter because he sent me a message on the next day. I was so happy but still scared and excited. This was the first time I’ve ever done something like that. I didn’t even know anything about his sexuality.

(You have to know, I never really had a relationship. I never kissed someone, I’ve never had sex. There was this one time I had a long-distance “relationship” with a guy from England but that didn’t really work out and I don’t really want to call that a relationship. I never really searched for love in “real life” as I was just not confident enough about myself. That kind of changed during my therapy. I’m still not as confident about me and my body as I’d like to be, but I’m definitely ready for a “normal” relationship.)

Anyways, we were chatting for a bit, we added eachother on snapchat and then I asked him out on a date. That date went okay, considering it was my first one (and his first one too if I’m not mistaken).  We didn’t talk as much as we should have. He was shy and insecure so he wasn’t really able to hold up the conversation. But I tried everything for the date not to be a disaster and I did an okay job considering I’m actually just as shy. On the date, we took a walk in the park and then went to get pizza. At the end I asked him if he liked it and if he’d like to meet me again sometime and he said yes. His bus arrived, he looked me in the eyes and asked “Do you hug after these kind of things?” and before I could even answer, he hugged me. At this moment, I really felt appreciated again for a long time. One week passed and I asked him if he would like to go to the movies with me and he agreed. But before that date, we actually met each other in the hospital. He’s working there and I was visiting my mother who’ve had foot problems. Anyway, I was standing in front of the cafeteria, talking to an old friend when suddenly he interrupted me from the side and asked if I wanted to join him on his break. Of course I said yes. And that “second date” went a bit better than the first one. We still didn’t talk as much as I would’ve liked to but I realized that I really like his humor. It’s actually quite similar to mine (even though it seems like he has not noticed this yet. unfortunately.). Anyway, our official second date was drawing near but the evening before he texted me that he’d like to postpone it as he wanted to get a haircut first and he just feels like there was not enough time between work, going to the barber and meeting me at the cinema. I was a bit angry and sad. I asked him to tell me when he has time to meet me, because he just wanted to “postpone” it, but he never did. One week later I texted him, asking if everything was alright between us and if he was still interested in me. He replied that this was his first time writing with a boy “like this” and that it’s all new to him. I was relieved and wrote him an endless long text, saying how I was feeling neglected. I also opened up to him about not having any relationship experience because I figured that that might lead to him opening up as well. His reply was actually disappointing. He didn’t talk about everything I was writing about and simply responded, that he’d like to take very slow steps as he’d be “sad too, if this didn’t work out”. This was the point I realized: I don’t get him. I wasn’t going to fast, he confirmed that. He didn’t even knew himself what he meant by “very slow steps” and in the coming days I learned, that “slow steps” would actually mean “no steps”. I recommended not asking him out anymore and that he should ask me the next time because that way I would knew he’s ready. That turned out to be a big mistake. He never asked me out until now. I decided to talk to him again about everything. This is the beginning of the conversation:

Me: “Hey. I wanted to know what’s happening between us” Him: “I don’t know“ Me: “That’s not good. I think you should actually figure out by now what exactly you want” Him: “I know but this just feels so ‘wrong’ but also not if you know what I mean”

This was a shock to me. I’ll be honest, I WANTED to hear something else. Something like “I want to meet you again” or so. However he just told me that he can’t explain what he’s meaning as he doesn’t know himself. I told him that of course I was picturing a relationship at the end of everything because at the end, that’s what “dating” is for (even though we didn’t and don’t really do that anymore). This was the first time I cried over him. This made me realize: I care. About him. I can’t say I love him, but I definitely have a crush on him. And that sucks. 

So now I’m here. Today. We don’t really write over WhatsApp anymore because according to him, he never really uses it. So we basically only talk about snapchat. And that’s weird because using Snapchat, you can’t really have a serious, interesting talk. Also: He always replies super late. On WhatsApp as well as on Snapchat. I get that he does that on WhatsApp if he barely uses it but I don’t get why he doesn’t answer on Snapchat. I know he’s using it. I see it on the Snapchat map. It feels like he’s avoiding me and that hurts. The thing is: I don’t get him. While sometimes I have this feeling he doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore because he never replies, other times he “talks” to me more, making me feel like he cares at least a bit. 

And yesterday something weird happened on Snapchat. I always send him Selfies or something like that but everything I used to get from him were pics of walls or floors with a bit of text. But yesterday? He was sending selfies too. It felt like he was opening up to me, like he feels a bit more comfortable. But I don’t know because well, I don’t get him. Right now for example. I know I shouldn’t be stalking - Wow. I actually just wanted to write that he has not responded to my snap in hours and in this very moment I got a snap. - I just replied. Let’s see how long it takes for him to reply.

Anyway, last time we talked using WhatsApp, I asked him a couple questions and gave him time until the end of this week to think about them and then answer me - he just replied - tomorrow is friday and I’ll use WhatsApp to ask him if he already thought about them or needs more time. Because honestly? I need answers sooner or later. 

I’m meeting up with my friends tomorrow evening to make and eat burgers. It’s the first time actually that I’m doing anything with them since they became my friends after I switched to this school (college) 1.5 years ago.

Wow. This text got out of control. Didn’t mean for it to get THAT long. Well at least you’re informed now. I’m going to prepare some stuff for school now and then go to sleep. I’ll probably write another entry tomorrow. But I’m not promising anything :P Have a nice day. :)

[viralhottopics]

Americans Persecuted By Egypt Regime Watch As Trump Embraces It

WASHINGTON When 29-year-old Egyptian-American Mohamed Soltan tells his story, he says Egyptian authorities first shot him in the arm, and then beat him with batons and belts. Locking him in a windowless room, they encouraged him to commit suicide, occasionally slipping razor blades inside his cell. The authoritarian Arab government still has at least seven other Americans in their prisons, he says.

But President Donald Trumps America First administration hasnt punished the boss of Egypts security forces, President Abdel-Fattah el-Sissi. Instead, Trump this week hosted el-Sissi at the White House, effectively rewarding him, American victims families and rights activists say.

Im very disappointed, Soltan told the Huffington Post Tuesday, after Trump held a congenial Monday summit with el-Sissi. Honestly, el-Sissi got more PR out of this White House visit than any PR or lobbying contract he could have gotten.

Up to 20 Americans have been jailed as part of the Egyptian presidents surge of repression since he seized power in a 2013 military coup. They share the prisons with an estimated 60,000 political prisoners and dozens of journalists.

The Trump team has embraced el-Sissi granting him the White House photo-ops that President Barack Obama never did and classifying humans rights concerns as a matter for private talks. Advocates believe the U.S. increasingly warm approach to Egypt will only encourage el-Sissi to continue or even worsen his crackdown.

I can only imagine what folks in prison in Egypt are bracing themselves for and the level of repression that will happen in the upcoming months. This has a real human cost, Soltan said.

Soltans father remains in prison, sentenced to death for his role in the opposition Muslim Brotherhood movement. (Soltan said he does not share his fathers views; he rejects the idea that Egyptians must be classified in binary terms, as either as pro-Sissi or pro-Brotherhood.)

Soltan was first arrested for live-tweeting a 2013 protest. He was released in May 2015, and he told HuffPost he is using media attention around el-Sissis ongoing U.S. tour to boost public outrage over those in jail.

People dont know… that tax dollars are going to an authoritarian regime holding our American citizens, Soltan said. Working with fellow activists, he arranged for 2,500 posters to be plastered around the capital and created a display van that would advertise statements from groups like Human Rights Watch.

Other Americans with imprisoned loved ones are more circumspect, hoping that staying quiet will encourage the regime to soften.

Aya Hijazi, an aid worker who created the non-profit Baladi, has been in jail for nearly three years. Her case has gained a high profile since lawmakers and the Obama administration began publicly speaking of her detention last year. But her family does not currently want to talk to the media.

Right now, the familys primary concern is Aya and her well-being, and they remain optimistic, as Aya remains optimistic, that given the lack of evidence presented against her, that she will be acquitted on [April 16], said Wade McMullen, an attorney with the nonprofit Robert F. Kennedy Human Rights who is representing the family.

The family already experienced a setback last month, when a Cairo court unexpectedly postponed its verdict. Some in the rights community worried that Egyptian authorities were delaying Hijazis release, so they could use her as a bargaining chip in the meeting with Trump.

For them, its important to avoid alienating Trumps team or pressing the Egyptian regime so intensely that it finds it embarrassing to offer any clemency.

We have confidence that Ayas case is being prioritized at the highest levels of the U.S. government, McMullen said Tuesday. President el-Sissi received a very warm welcome here at the White House yesterday, and I would suspect that for a warm relationship to continue, he could not keep jailing American citizens.

Carlos Barria / Reuters

Unlike Trump, President Barack Obama never hosted el-Sissi at the White House.

Relatives of three other prisoners who have previously avoided publicity are becoming more vocal, avoiding direct critique of el-Sissi while placing a great deal of hope in Trump. They made a joint appeal to him prior to the visit, echoing his campaign trail rhetoric. Egypt is counting on America to be weak. We are counting on you to show Americas strength, they wrote, according to a copy of the letter provided to HuffPost.

The White House did not respond to a request for comment on the letter, potential communications with the three families or a Reuters report saying that Trump avoided speaking on Hejazis case to el-Sissi.

Trump could simply ask Egypt to release him, Dr. Nagwa El Kordy, a signatory to the letter, told HuffPost. Her son, 23-year-old Ahmed, has been imprisoned since August 2013. He was arrested and is being tried along with several hundred other defendants. Once a student at the German University in Cairo, Ahmed is now being denied due process,his family said.

Eman Kassim, another signatory, said her 52-year-old brother Mustafa is becoming weak and ill in jail.

They gave him the worst food not healthy for him, not healthy for anybody. Imagine, if somebody has a health problem, she told HuffPost. Her brother is a diabetes and heart disease patient. He was arrested on Aug. 14, 2013 while he was participating in sit-in protests against the coup at Rabaa Square in Cairo. More than 1,150 demonstrators died that day after police and army forces began to attack them, Human Rights Watch later reported.

He has the rights of any American, Kassim said. Theres no response, nothing on Capitol Hill. Everything stays the same. We wish that President Trump does something for him, as an American citizen and as a human being. He didnt do anything wrong. He didnt harm anyone.

Eighteen-year-old Ahmed Hassan is in Egypts jails too. He was arrested in December 2016 for protesting his uncles arrest. Then 17, he was placed in a jail cell with more than 20 adults, the letter stated.

Soltan, who lives in Virginia, believes vocal, visible pressure is essential for any relief.

With the el-Sissi regime, only public and private negative pressure works. I am living proof of that, he said, citing social media campaigns and frequent statements his supporters made while he was in jail.

Soltan criticized the idea of discussing human rights behind closed doors, something he said former Secretary of State John Kerry has tried since the coup to little effect. In addition to his Washington campaign highlighting el-Sissis repression, he has launched a video project about the prison issue and written extensively about his own experience, most recently in the Washington Post.

Were using me as a success story that has worked in the past, Soltan said. How can we do that for thousands of others who are unjustly detained, to give a voice to them?

A bipartisan group of powerful lawmakers shares his view. Sens. John McCain (R-Ariz.) and Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.) have criticized el-Sissis crackdown on civil society, and Sen. Marco Rubio (R-Fla.) joined five Democrats in signing an April 3 letter organized by Sen. Tim Kaine (D-Va.) that calls for Hijazis release and questions el-Sissis behavior. El-Sissis reception in Congress on Tuesday was reportedly far cooler than what he received at the White House on Monday.

And on Wednesday evening, the night before the general-turned-president is scheduled to leave the Four Seasons Hotel in Georgetown, another rebuke awaits: Soltan is organizing a sit-in. He calls it his send-off.

Read more: http://huff.to/2o6BPDb

from Americans Persecuted By Egypt Regime Watch As Trump Embraces It

[mavwrekmarketing]

WASHINGTON When 29-year-old Egyptian-American Mohamed Soltan tells his story, he says Egyptian authorities first shot him in the arm, and then beat him with batons and belts. Locking him in a windowless room, they encouraged him to commit suicide, occasionally slipping razor blades inside his cell. The authoritarian Arab government still has at least seven other Americans in their prisons, he says.

But President Donald Trumps America First administration hasnt punished the boss of Egypts security forces, President Abdel-Fattah el-Sissi. Instead, Trump this week hosted el-Sissi at the White House, effectively rewarding him, American victims families and rights activists say.

Im very disappointed, Soltan told the Huffington Post Tuesday, after Trump held a congenial Monday summit with el-Sissi. Honestly, el-Sissi got more PR out of this White House visit than any PR or lobbying contract he could have gotten.

Up to 20 Americans have been jailed as part of the Egyptian presidents surge of repression since he seized power in a 2013 military coup. They share the prisons with an estimated 60,000 political prisoners and dozens of journalists.

The Trump team has embraced el-Sissi granting him the White House photo-ops that President Barack Obama never did and classifying humans rights concerns as a matter for private talks. Advocates believe the U.S. increasingly warm approach to Egypt will only encourage el-Sissi to continue or even worsen his crackdown.

I can only imagine what folks in prison in Egypt are bracing themselves for and the level of repression that will happen in the upcoming months. This has a real human cost, Soltan said.

Soltans father remains in prison, sentenced to death for his role in the opposition Muslim Brotherhood movement. (Soltan said he does not share his fathers views; he rejects the idea that Egyptians must be classified in binary terms, as either as pro-Sissi or pro-Brotherhood.)

Soltan was first arrested for live-tweeting a 2013 protest. He was released in May 2015, and he told HuffPost he is using media attention around el-Sissis ongoing U.S. tour to boost public outrage over those in jail.

People dont know… that tax dollars are going to an authoritarian regime holding our American citizens, Soltan said. Working with fellow activists, he arranged for 2,500 posters to be plastered around the capital and created a display van that would advertise statements from groups like Human Rights Watch.

Other Americans with imprisoned loved ones are more circumspect, hoping that staying quiet will encourage the regime to soften.

Aya Hijazi, an aid worker who created the non-profit Baladi, has been in jail for nearly three years. Her case has gained a high profile since lawmakers and the Obama administration began publicly speaking of her detention last year. But her family does not currently want to talk to the media.

Right now, the familys primary concern is Aya and her well-being, and they remain optimistic, as Aya remains optimistic, that given the lack of evidence presented against her, that she will be acquitted on [April 16], said Wade McMullen, an attorney with the nonprofit Robert F. Kennedy Human Rights who is representing the family.

The family already experienced a setback last month, when a Cairo court unexpectedly postponed its verdict. Some in the rights community worried that Egyptian authorities were delaying Hijazis release, so they could use her as a bargaining chip in the meeting with Trump.

For them, its important to avoid alienating Trumps team or pressing the Egyptian regime so intensely that it finds it embarrassing to offer any clemency.

We have confidence that Ayas case is being prioritized at the highest levels of the U.S. government, McMullen said Tuesday. President el-Sissi received a very warm welcome here at the White House yesterday, and I would suspect that for a warm relationship to continue, he could not keep jailing American citizens.

Carlos Barria / Reuters

Unlike Trump, President Barack Obama never hosted el-Sissi at the White House.

Relatives of three other prisoners who have previously avoided publicity are becoming more vocal, avoiding direct critique of el-Sissi while placing a great deal of hope in Trump. They made a joint appeal to him prior to the visit, echoing his campaign trail rhetoric. Egypt is counting on America to be weak. We are counting on you to show Americas strength, they wrote, according to a copy of the letter provided to HuffPost.

The White House did not respond to a request for comment on the letter, potential communications with the three families or a Reuters report saying that Trump avoided speaking on Hejazis case to el-Sissi.

Trump could simply ask Egypt to release him, Dr. Nagwa El Kordy, a signatory to the letter, told HuffPost. Her son, 23-year-old Ahmed, has been imprisoned since August 2013. He was arrested and is being tried along with several hundred other defendants. Once a student at the German University in Cairo, Ahmed is now being denied due process,his family said.

Eman Kassim, another signatory, said her 52-year-old brother Mustafa is becoming weak and ill in jail.

They gave him the worst food not healthy for him, not healthy for anybody. Imagine, if somebody has a health problem, she told HuffPost. Her brother is a diabetes and heart disease patient. He was arrested on Aug. 14, 2013 while he was participating in sit-in protests against the coup at Rabaa Square in Cairo. More than 1,150 demonstrators died that day after police and army forces began to attack them, Human Rights Watch later reported.

He has the rights of any American, Kassim said. Theres no response, nothing on Capitol Hill. Everything stays the same. We wish that President Trump does something for him, as an American citizen and as a human being. He didnt do anything wrong. He didnt harm anyone.

Eighteen-year-old Ahmed Hassan is in Egypts jails too. He was arrested in December 2016 for protesting his uncles arrest. Then 17, he was placed in a jail cell with more than 20 adults, the letter stated.

Soltan, who lives in Virginia, believes vocal, visible pressure is essential for any relief.

With the el-Sissi regime, only public and private negative pressure works. I am living proof of that, he said, citing social media campaigns and frequent statements his supporters made while he was in jail.

Soltan criticized the idea of discussing human rights behind closed doors, something he said former Secretary of State John Kerry has tried since the coup to little effect. In addition to his Washington campaign highlighting el-Sissis repression, he has launched a video project about the prison issue and written extensively about his own experience, most recently in the Washington Post.

Were using me as a success story that has worked in the past, Soltan said. How can we do that for thousands of others who are unjustly detained, to give a voice to them?

A bipartisan group of powerful lawmakers shares his view. Sens. John McCain (R-Ariz.) and Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.) have criticized el-Sissis crackdown on civil society, and Sen. Marco Rubio (R-Fla.) joined five Democrats in signing an April 3 letter organized by Sen. Tim Kaine (D-Va.) that calls for Hijazis release and questions el-Sissis behavior. El-Sissis reception in Congress on Tuesday was reportedly far cooler than what he received at the White House on Monday.

And on Wednesday evening, the night before the general-turned-president is scheduled to leave the Four Seasons Hotel in Georgetown, another rebuke awaits: Soltan is organizing a sit-in. He calls it his send-off.

Read more: http://ift.tt/2nFOA4p

 The post Americans Persecuted By Egypt Regime Watch As Trump Embraces It appeared first on MavWrek Marketing by Jason

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