#this is an extremely selfish thought but I’m sad that one directions music will forever be tainted with sadness now

[shimmeringseaa]

I miss Liam

[boopypastaissalty]

Here sre some of my Sanders Sides theories. Long post btw so yee

Roman and Remus were originally one all-encompassing creativity, then they split and become the two different sides of creativity, or the "Creativitwins". Their names seem to follow a theme: Ancient Rome, specifically the legend surrounding the creation/beginning of Rome. I think that the original creativity's name was Romulus. Here's why: Remus killed Romulus over a land dispute and then started the city of Rome in his brother's name. Citizens of Rome are called Romans. Though it could be argued that Thomas's moral sense as a concept, not necessarily Patton, separated the two, thus "killing" the original creativity.

Patton may have suffered from anxiety and could have created Virgil as a way to relieve some of his stress, therefore making him Virgil's "dad" in a sense, in Patton's mind warranting him calling Virgil "kiddo" all the time.

We all know that Patton is allergic to cats, but what about the others? What are their weaknesses? My speculations are that Virgil is iron deficient, as he doesn't like to rise up because it makes him dizzy, he is also described by Roman to be the "fairest of them all" and then admitting it was a pale joke in Virgil's expense. Roman is lactose intolerant, as when Patton is feeding him cream of broccoli soup, Logan says that it will "upset Princey's stomach". Logan is OCD: Always planning and organizing things. He gets upset when things don't go exactly as he plans it. He also feels the need to always be right and to make sure everyone else is kept in line. Also: Patton seems to suffer from depression. Oftentimes depressed people crack jokes and give people the general idea that they are happy. They also try to make other people happy. Patton also sometimes gets into these sad funks and even says "I had this problem where I'd hide my less than awesome feelings, so when I would feel like sobbing I'd just smile and crack jokes. I thought that was coping, only joking, never showing sadness, hoping it would just go away".

The thumbnail for "Putting Others First - Selfishness v. Selflessness Redux" has a character selection screen telling the viewer to "select a side", but one thing I noticed is that there is a blank box, indicating a locked character or a character who hasn't been revealed yet. Another thing I noticed is that the sides have a rainbow theme going on. Thomas even says that he is "full rainbow all the time" as an allusion to his sexuality, and possibly even the sides in general. Roman is red, there is no known orange side, Janus is yellow, Remus is green, Patton is light blue, Logan is indigo, and Virgil is violet/purple. Red is the color of physical strength, power, confidence, and passion, which suits Roman's personality. Yellow can be happiness and joy, but also directly means cowardice and deceit, which is self explanatory. Green is a color of healing, life, and vitality, but the flip side being greed, jealousy, pessimism, and superficially. Blue is the color of trust, loyalty, faith, wisdom, truth, patience, and understanding, which sums Patton up pretty well. Indigo resembles wisdom, integrity, fairness, impartiality, and justice, which is all right up Logan's alley. Violet is the color of ambition, dignity, devotion, pride, mystery, independence, magic, being cynical, and mourning, which all makes sense in Virgil's case. Now to orange, which resembles joy, sunshine, risk taking, adventure, enthusiasm, creativity, attraction, success, rudeness, frivolity, and untrustworthiness, which is a balance of traits that both Roman and Remus have and directly resembles creativity, so orange could be a fusion of Roman and Remus, the original creativity before they split. Another possibility for the next side is someone who resembles ethos, as we have pathos and logos (Patton and Logan).

All the sides have an ancient Rome theme going on. Roman and Remus, after the legend surrounding the beginning of Rome. Virgil, after the Roman poet Publius Vergilius Maro, who is often called Virgil. Janus (formerly known as Deceit) after the Roman god of the same name (Janus is the god of new beginnings and transitions, often depicted with two faces facing in opposite directions, one for the past and one for the future). All of the sides except for Patton and Logan, whose names are derived from pathos and logos, an ancient Greek concept proposed by Aristotle. And have you noticed that they mirror each other in almost every way, suggesting that, much like Roman and Remus, they are brothers, possibly even twins?

Dukes tend to not be a part of the royal family, but if so they are princes who have gotten married. Does this mean that Remus is married?!?!? If so to whoooo?

Welcome to me overthinking things again! What if Roman has control over the other sides? Like he's creativity and the sides are figments of Thomas' imagination, so like what if one day he was just done with Logan's nonstop fact train he just (this is extreme) went: "Fuck you, Logan, you're dead now" and Logan straight up dies? Like where would his power end if he could do that? Overthinking things can be scary kids, let me do it for you.

If you overthink it: Patton basically just was like "Nah" in POF SvSR. So he said in SvS that going to the wedding would make Thomas feel good, something that he basically controls because he is Thomas' moral sense and at the center of most of his feelings. Basically Thomas went to the wedding and Patton was like: "This is nice and all and you did the right thing, but uhmmm about those happy feelings. No." And then got all sorts of frustrated about being wrong. So yee. I am just doing the overthinking things thing again.

What if creativity split solely as a big "Fuck you, Logan"? Like I just imagine: C: "Hey Logan, I'm performing mitosis"

L: "Yes, your cells- *he looks up* Whaaaaa?"

R&R: "Cha cha real smooth, Logan"

And thus the twins were "born"

Logan thinks feelings are bad and claims to not have feelings, even though he clearly does (cough, cough, Crofters the Musical? Getting angry in some episodes? Logan, you're a bad liar, bud). So he bottles up most of his feelings, for all practical purposes making him a ticking time bomb. Something's probably going to happen and he won't be able to hold it all in and he'll have an emotional breakdown of sorts. Another thing is he will not duck out. He knows he's too important to Thomas' mental wellbeing for that. He is also getting progressively more angry as the others listen to him less, so he's probably going to overwork himself trying to get everyone to listen to the point where he physically can't be there for Thomas. Cuz like I suspect Logan leaving would have the same effect as Thomas having a massive stroke: The right side of his body wouldn't work, he wouldn't be able to talk/communicate, and his reasoning skills would be gone.

Janus just loves philosophy. Every episode in the main timeline, he makes references to famous philosophers to get his point across.

Patton is always the first of the light sides to accept the dark sides. First with Virgil and then with Janus. He may be taking them in as his troubled but lovable children who he will defend under almost any circumstance.

Virgil's name is not Virgil. People think his full name is Virgilius, though Thomas and Joan have previously stated that it isn’t. Bc of that, some people have theorized that Virgil was lying about his name, or that when he moved to the “light sides” he changed/used a different name, and maybe they’re going to reveal that sometime. Like the scene with Remus and Vee where Re goes, “I would never hide anything from you” looks pointedly at Virgil, and you assume it’s bc he took forever to tell Thomas, but what if it’s bc he was lying about his name from the moment he told Thomas??? And also the moment when Janus says "It takes a liar to know a liar" and Virgil says "Don't" and the response was "What? I'm only talking about your name" I think his name could be Acanthus

Ya know, Patton probably has an indirect role in how the other sides look. Not like "But you're anxiety, you wear the hoodie" but closer to Thomas beliefs of stuff like lying is bad and the fact that Janus often plays devils advocate, so he has a snake face

Random thoughts:

Virgil has the most ace/demi aesthetic and I love that

SvS: Multi part episode, "bad/evil/dark" side gets accepted, the FEELS, angst. Hmmm…

The twins getting along and just like sitting at a table causing minor chaos.

Patton randomly hugs everyone. He just does.

Janus and Patton: animal bros

[taronfanfic]

Fast Forward

Chapter 4

Your days seemed to run on automatic pilot as a hazy numbness occupied your mind. You kept telling yourself that the wait was the worst bit, but every time you did you remembered the crushing pain that hit your chest when you were first told it was a tumour. Wednesday was results day. The news could come through from your Mum at any minute and it left you checking your phone religiously. Your boss wasn’t too happy with the amount of work you’d produced, but considering the circumstances she wasn’t about to pull you up on it either. Instead she sent you home early.

Music could be heard blasting out from your flat as you walked up to the door and placed your key in the lock. Taron was singing along, completely oblivious to your presence as he spread out a range of ingredients and then pulled a chopping board from one of the cupboards.

“What are you doing back so early?” You questioned him as you turned the volume on the radio down sharply.

“Shit! When did you get here?” He jumped and spun around, wielding a sharp knife in your direction. “Sorry, let me put this down before I kiss you.”

“You’ve not answered my question.” His kiss was loving and warm, an obvious attempt to distract you from the conversation but it didn’t work.

“I erm, worked through my lunch hour so I could leave early today and surprise you by cooking tonight. Gonna make us a curry.”

“Urgh, perfect boyfriend strikes again. You’ll have to stop this one day, else I’ll be expecting too much from you forever!” You teased him as you poked him gently in the ribs.

“I’m just trying to make things as good as they can be for you at the moment… I take it it’s good news as you’re back early and don’t seem too upset?”

“No news actually. I got told to leave early because I was doing fuck all other than staring at my phone and waiting for it to ring.” Taron laughed at that one and then turned back to carry on prepping the food.

“So, we’re going with no news is good news for now then?”

“Well… not bad news, yet.”

“If it was bad news, surely they’d have got on with things and told him already? Acted more urgently and taken him in to operate or something.”

“Maybe. I don’t know how these things work. Mum said she’d call as soon as they hear anything, so the wait continues.” You left the conversation there as you plugged your phone in to charge and crashed out on the sofa. The sound of Taron singing along to the radio continued and the smell from the curry he was making started to fill the flat as you did your best to relax and think about anything else but your parents.

Before long Taron had joined you on the sofa, sliding in beneath your legs and then lifting them back over his lap whilst he waited for everything to cook. You could feel his eyes on you but you didn’t want to meet his gaze. He’d only start up again with his positive attitude, telling you it would all be fine and to stop worrying. It was easy to say from his position. Your Mum was right, they weren’t his parents and this wasn’t his problem.

“Are you seeing the boys tonight?”

“Nah, I was gonna swerve this week and stay in with you. We can watch a film or something.”

“You should go.” You pulled your legs out from his lap and drew them in against your chest as you sat up.

“No, it’s alright. I wanna be with you.”

“T, have a night off. Please? I’ll be fine and you’ve done more than enough already.”

“You sure? I don’t want to leave you on your own if you’re not feeling good.” He reached his hand out and placed it on top of your knee.

“I’m alright, honestly. I’d rather things carried on as normal and you shouldn’t have to miss out on going to the pub because of me.” You sighed as you started to get annoyed that he wasn’t taking you up on it.

“I don’t mind.”

“I know, but I do. So please go and enjoy yourself tonight.”

“Only if you’re sure?”

“I’m sure!” You snapped slightly.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go to the pub… You’re sweet.” He left a quick kiss to your forehead as he got up and returned to the kitchen to plate up the food.

***

An evening to yourself was exactly what you needed. The peace and quiet gave you time to think properly without having to worry about zoning out on someone else’s conversation, or have Taron thinking you were upset and keeping it to yourself. Which in all honesty was exactly what you were doing. Sometimes you don’t want to talk about it though, you just need to think. It was all very nostalgic, looking back on your childhood and the time you’d spent with your Dad in the garden, or singing along to the radio in the car as he drove you to school. Life was so simple back then. Everyone seemed happy. All of this happening had shone a light on how little time you’d spent with your family in the last 5 years and you suddenly felt so guilty. If it came to the worst and your Dad didn’t have long left, you’d regret not spending more time with him. You’d regret wasting it getting drunk in clubs and spending your weekends trying to get home from the next random guy’s bedroom. Even some of the weekends spent with Taron in the past 11 months seemed unnecessarily selfish.

Your moment of reflection was broken by the sound of your phone ringing. You jumped up off the sofa to answer the call from your Mum and hear the news you’d been waiting for all day.

“Oh thank god.” You sighed heavily as your legs gave way and left you sitting on the floor at the end of the sofa. It was good news. It took a moment to sink in and you’d zoned out on what your Mum was saying, but knowing the tumour wasn’t cancerous was all that mattered. “I’m going to come and see you again this weekend, we need to celebrate even if it’s just us two sharing a bottle of wine.”

“I’d like that.” Your Mum replied and you could hear her smiling for what was probably the first time in a while. “We don’t see enough of you these days.”

“I know… I can change that though, I want to.”

“I’ll leave it up to you, but you know where we are, and you know we always love to see you and we miss you.”

“I’ll be up on Saturday. Give my love to Dad.”

“I will do, see you at the weekend, love.”

You found yourself bursting into tears as you ended the call. It was mostly relief, but you knew there was some sadness and guilt still swirling in the mix. It felt good to cry though. You needed it.

“Y/N, Y/N, where are you?” Taron called out before you’d even heard the door close behind him. He rushed through to find you on the floor at the end of the sofa with tears still streaming down your face. “Oh love, I could hear you crying from outside. It’s alright, I’m here.”

“I’m okay.” You managed to smile at him through your tears before he placed his hands to your cheeks and wiped the dampness away with his thumbs.

“You don’t have to be, not for me.” He replied sympathetically as you reached up to his wrists and pulled his hands away. “You should have called me, or text, and I’d have come back sooner.”

“Taron, it’s fine. It’s good news!” You laughed slightly knowing it must have looked like the complete opposite to him. “It’s not cancer.”

“Oh my days, that’s brilliant,” He sighed in relief as he moved from crouching opposite you to sitting with his legs crossed beneath him. “So these are happy tears?”

“Mostly.”

“Talk to me.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just relief mainly.” You thought you’d managed to sound convincing in your reply but as Taron sat in silence, holding your hand and waiting for you to continue, you knew he wasn’t going to let it drop. “I was just thinking… before my Mum phoned, like… if it wasn’t good news then I’d regret not spending more time with my Dad. You only get one set of parents, y’know?”

“Mmmhm, and when they’re gone, they’re gone.”

“Exactly. So, maybe I shouldn’t have spent quite so many weekends getting drunk and should have gone home more often.”

“Yeah, but do you not think they’d feel guilty if they knew you weren’t living your own life? You’re allowed to do your own thing and you needed that time to find your feet as an adult… and find me!” Taron lifted the back of your hand to his lips.  

“True.”  

“Life’s a balance, you’ve just realised you’d had it tilted too far one way and now’s your chance to tilt it back to the middle again.”

“I’ve said I’ll go up again this weekend. They’re letting Dad out of hospital for a week before his operation.”

“That’s good… I know why you said no last time, but seeing as things are a bit different now… how about I come with you?”

“Taron.” You sighed and looked away from him.

“What? What’s so bad about me meeting your parents?”

“It’s just. It’s not a good idea.”

“But why?”

All his questions were driving you mad when you didn’t know how to phrase your answers. You stood up from the floor and went to get a glass of water to buy yourself some extra time.

“Because… it just is! You trust me, don’t you?”

“With my life!” He replied forcefully as he followed you into the kitchen.

“So trust me when I say it’s not a good idea.”

“But I don’t understand, Y/N. We’ve been together, what… nearly a year now, officially, longer than that if you count the rocky start.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“It’s like you’re not taking our relationship seriously.” He replied quickly.

“Wow! You really think that?!” You looked back at him, wide-eyed, and shook your head in disbelief.

“Oh, come on. You know I didn’t mean it to that extreme so stop exaggerating things.”

“Me? Exaggerating? Why would I need to do that if I wasn’t taking our relationship seriously?”

“Y/N...” His eye roll was the last straw for you. After the day you’d had the last thing you wanted to deal with was accusations and attitude from the person who’s meant to always have your back.

“No, no Taron. I’ve had enough. I’m going to bed.” You stepped around him and didn’t look back as you made your way through to the bedroom.

“Y/N, don’t.” He called after you, but it didn’t change your mind.

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[cyanpeacock]

Realtalk(tm): Living With Ada Doom

ALRIGHT. so. those of you who have read Cold Comfort Farm know exactly where this is going.

so, when I was a kid, my mum would get drunk, and sad, and tell me about how awful her mum was, all the depressing shit, and she’d cry on me, you know, the works, the kind that should go down with a counsellor, or therapist.

I don’t remember it clearly. I had to like, switch off, you know? Mummy’s sad. I’m sad too. It’s going to be okay. Stroking her hair. That’s about all I remember, apart from the pain I had to hide to make everything better.

Except, it totally wasn’t okay, because I was giving my drunken mother comfort, and the next day she was giving me smacks, and isolation as punishment, and denying me food when I was rowdy, as children are. 

Later, she’d give me a book to read, called Cold Comfort Farm.

It’s a good book. It’s a parody of things along the lines of Wuthering Heights, you know, mopey miserable out-in-the-countryside romance novels where everyone is abusive, but That’s The Way It’s Always Been, Out Here. 

Flora comes along and fixes everything right up.

Some part of her wanted me to be Flora. 

A good, proper, refined young woman. Stately. Observant. Academic. Very sporting. 

I am not Flora.

I was very nearly Ada Doom, the woman who saw something nasty in the woodshed. Well - for a while, I thought I was her, but I didn’t have control over a farm/family. I wasn’t holding all the books. 

This phrase got used against me a lot - “something nasty in the woodshed.” It translated to, “you’re overreacting, be quiet,” in the circles I moved in. Often delivered as a joke, but actually, a warning.

Flora was not, actually, a very nice woman, and she was not, actually, very nice to Ada Doom. 

“Did it see you?”

The point I’m continually making, is.

I didn’t see something nasty in the woodshed, once, when I was a child.

I saw a whole fucking lot of nasty things, all around me, in my own home, that chased me into my bedroom, that physically, verbally, and emotionally abused me, for over a decade. I heard other nasty things going on, in rooms I wasn’t in, but sound carries. I saw and heard even nastier things happening between the only Adult Role Models I had.

This all seemed very normal, until I had an assembly on abuse in primary school, and recognized myself in it.

I told myself, “mummy loves me. It’s not really abuse. Is it?” 

I told myself this for years.

Skip to the future. It’s easier for me.

Later I ran away somewhere a bit cleaner, to live with a racist opioid addict. It was fucking awesome, for a while, but yeah, that’s another post. He’d also use “something nasty in the woodshed” against me, or just say “Ada Doom.”

My mother would chatter things about “he’s brainwashing you! Mind control!” when I did see her at the same time as him, separately. It’s like she didn’t realize he was only using things he’d seen her use on me. She probably didn’t, because they’d probably been used on her, and she hadn’t spotted the conditioning.

So, in this story, what did “Flora” turn out to be?

An angry, inhibited, explosive, snappy, hungry young man, who just wanted to get high, forget about the past, and go to lesson, so he could learn something that would get him out of this shithole, and into a decent home, with a car that runs and a job that pays in the wallet, mind, and heart. 

I hid so much of the pain I was in, because when it was actually expressed, I’d get dismissed, belittled, or outright yelled at, even after the physical hitting had stopped. 

She always said, “you know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you?”

So I’d try, like a kid, who desperately wanted to believe that his mother did “love him” - that is, knew how to give emotionally healthy and nourishing expressions of love. 

And time and time again, I’d get, “I think you’re overreacting.” “Isn’t that a bit extreme?” “It doesn’t mean anything.” “They’re just jealous.” “You’re imagining things.” Or, you know, “I think you’re being selfish.” “Selfish little cow!”

So there I was, my self harm getting worse and worse, the pressure my piece of shit school placed on me getting worse and worse, hearing Mark fucking cussing me out again, becoming increasingly abusive towards myself and people I really, deeply cared about, because I had literally no understanding, no framework for internally and mutually rewarding loving interaction. 

I don’t even remember what happened. Shit went down, mother had got a “boyfriend,” they were going to get married, they split up, I was caught in the middle because I was a kid who never really had a dad and desperately wanted one, I got used as a pawn in a game of chess between two emotionally unwell adults who couldn’t agree to break up without causing an enormous fight and dragging their entire circle of Facebook friends into it. It was really ugly. Like, one of the friends died, and shit like “good riddance” was getting thrown about. It was really ugly. I wanted so badly to get involved and break it all up, but yeah, fuck Facebook, I didn’t use it, still don’t.

So, I ran away to live with the one who’d caused me less hurt, the racist opioid addict, because at least he could see me as a son, while the drunk was still transphobic as hell. That’s the other post, for the future. 

But yes, Ada Doom followed me there, and according to them, I was still living in the woodshed.

But I was supposed to be Flora. I was supposed to be good, nice, and orderly, and I was accepted while I was these things. If I wasn’t, I’d get a verbal slap in the right direction, through this insidious fucking phrasology tied in with a long, long history of emotional manipulation.

This all started with my mother, and her mother, and probably her mother before her, and a whole line of absent fathers. 

I’m the one who noticed this, and decided, “no more of this shit. No more of this shit. I am never bringing a child into this world so full of pain, and I have no idea how to fix any of this on my own, and the people who are supposed to help me don’t, and I don’t fucking trust anybody enough to let them in.”

I’m the one who noticed this was abuse. I’m the one who started reading, trying to understand the inside of my head, getting it wrong, getting it right-ish, doubting myself, always coming back and really thinking “fuck, that is so much like me” to conditions that arise as a result of complex, long-term trauma. 

I’m the one who made the jump into homelessness when the racist opioid addict became unbearable. I’m the one who went into a hostel while I was doing my A-Levels. I’m the one who passed them. I’m the one who saw a counsellor every week and just fucking sobbed because there was nowhere else I could cry like that without killing myself. 

I’m the one who read about psychodynamic theory, and fundamental interpretations of the structures of psyche, and thought about it all myself, how it might apply to my brain in particular. I’m the one who read intently about complex trauma, and healing from it. I’m the one who learned about EMDR, and figured out I could do that with good stereo music, and tapping my hands and feet on the bus. I’m the one who studied very specific parts of the DSM V, over and over, circling and circling until I zeroed in on the places that fit well enough to help me understand, find resources, and recover. 

I’m the one who read very, very, very closely about marijuana, the endocannabinoid system, and its relation to trauma. I understood this was drug abuse, and dependency, and that dependency and addiction are almost interchangeable. I’m the one who knew I didn’t really want to smoke until my mind burned away, unless I couldn’t Make It at university. I’m the one who smashed my pipe in July, and hasn’t wanted to smoke again since, and doesn’t really want to go back, but will if he falls/fails. 

I’m the one who learned to meditate, just drop out into a trance, for minutes or hours, with and without drugs in my system, with silence or with music, and now increasingly with background noise, although that one is REALLY difficult for me. I’m the one who learned all those weird skills like “noting” and “radical acceptance” and other things I’ve forgotten the name of but notice as different states of consciousness. 

I’m the one who knew all this psych work was supposed to be very dangerous, you shouldn’t do this if you aren’t A Professional(tm), but I’m also the one who knew I didn’t trust a single fucking “Professional” to do the right thing, make the right referrals, administer the treatment properly, after being betrayed and forced and dismissed by so many so-called Professionals.

I’m the one who decided, in not so many words: well, fuck, it’s less dangerous for me to do all these things, and make mistakes trying, than it is for me to let somebody in, and receive another injury, at my most vulnerable. 

The thing about Ada Doom is, she’s a character in a fucking parody novel. 

You’re not Ada Doom. You’re not Catherine Earnshaw. 

You can’t live your whole life making sad allegories through books that dig up your old pain without actually resolving any of it, because you’re reading ahead and projecting the romantic, ugly, fantasy conclusion onto what really happened, to your body.

It’s really useful! It’s really useful, for a long time, to connect with your pain through fiction. Forever, actually.

But I’ve got to get angry about being expected to be a character from a fucking parody novel.

“You’ll understand later.”

I understand. I understand why you did what you did. I understand you couldn’t control it. I understand why you showed me this book.

It cannot negate, diminish, or remove any of my anger. 

I had to go to a counsellor, for years, research, for years, think and feel, for years, to find the right language and tone to communicate my experiences. I’m still learning. I’m especially still talking, because I haven’t been able to talk about any of this, because my mother wouldn’t let me. All she did was give me strange, roundabout books, that were good, and annoyingly on the nose, and say “You’ll understand later.”

If you’re saying that, if they’re asking the question isn’t it about time you explained?

Isn’t it about time you realized you need help explaining? 

I can’t keep going back to a sad fucking house full of hurting fucking children. It drags me down again every time, although I really do cherish the moments where I could just pretend it was all normal and painless and easy to be a family. I really do. 

And yes, I know, it’s circular, it’s not that fucking easy, because I couldn’t let anybody in, because I was “normal,” as far as my mother was concerned. I know I’m lucky I’m very quick, I learn well, and I’m completely fucking invested in research and execution. 

I had to become these things for a sick, sick woman, who wanted a kid who would save/change her life. 

It’s not a fairytale. I know it feels like one. I know it feels like Prince Charming is just around the corner, it must be soon, just one more page! The Big Bad Wolf is still lurking!

You gotta make Prince Charming. You have to make the person you want to marry inside your head. I’m getting there. There’s no ring on it. That might be the total illusion of self. It might not be. I don’t know what’s happening to my system, yet. 

That voice in your head who yells at you, but isn’t you, but won’t tell you their name? Give them a fucking name. Think them up a face and a body. Go and learn some emotional regulation skills, slowly, because it’s really difficult. Revise them. Pass them along. Talk to them. They’ll stop yelling at you. You’ll be able to turn to them for comfort, and they’ll get all your jokes, because you’re sharing a brain, and the connections do keep coming your entire life/lives. They can be your partner, if you like, and they do too. 

I don’t know what happens after that, and that is just this body/me/us/the irrelevancy of pronouns astounds me. 

So, I’m very stupid.

I really did take the hood off my car at the side of the road with smoke pouring out. I didn’t know anything about what colour meant “get the hell away” or “it’s fine, just call the recovery van.” I just knew there was a problem, it needed fixing, and I didn’t have insurance.

I did it the stupid way. I touched it while it was hot. I tried using stuff I had in the back of the car. I walked to the garage, and they rang my mum? I walked back to the car and slept in it for a while, resolute in my decision not to go back to the garage again. I walked to the tool shop, and bought something to take that bit on the top off. I walked to the library and borrowed a book on cars. I bought more tools. I borrowed more books, this time on engines, because the car book was only about cars, and I had a problem with the engine. 

I kept getting the wrong fucking tools, and the wrong fucking books, because all engines are different, and different tools fit different engines. I just compared what I had to what was in there, then threw the wrong crap into the boot in a huff, or whacked the engine with whatever size spanner I had at hand.

I went back to the garage. They didn’t know what to do, they couldn’t see the car, just somebody who read too many manuals, and was on drugs. I still knew I didn’t have insurance. 

More tools, more books, still showing up at the garage, still getting dismissed, hating them more every time, them getting more and more bored of me. I was getting closer to fixing the car, but still making mistakes.

I found a mechanic, one who didn’t work with the garage. He let me tell him about the car, slowly, the way I’d figured it out. 

He knew a few things about engines. We spoke about the garage. He was very sympathetic. We spoke a lot about the car. He knew more than a few things about engines, actually.

I got better at fixing the car on my own.

Unfortunately, all this walking was fucking my legs. I’d really like to get back in the car again, and go places quicker. All this work is really slowing me down from what I’d like to be doing. It’s also getting me to a point where I can do what I’d like to.

The car still isn’t fixed. I’m not sure what goes where next, or if this is actually the same engine I started with at all, but I have an idea what might work, and a mechanic who knows he doesn’t know the problem, but actually lets me tell him, unlike the garage. 

So yes. Ada Doom is and is not dead to me. 

The fairytale thing is great, but at some point, you gotta stop reading other people’s, and start reading/writing your own. But only if you’re that way inclined, and I said the bit before in a rude tone because I’m frustrated. 

Long post. That’s enough.

I’m not Flora Poste.

[luxnovalibra]

Libra & Emotion ♎️🎭

(I’m not a professional but I’m a Libra Sun, Libra Moon, with Libra Dominance, and a 7th house stellium so I think this comes from a place of first hand experience)

Libra suns, like other air signs, do tend to detach from their emotions but not in the same way. Libra hates conflict. They hate tension and uneasiness. They need stability and reliability. Because emotions can be unpredictable, Libras feel the need to water their feelings down. Think of it as a filter. They try to rationalize and sort each emotion, find out the source, and put it into its proper place. So say if someone was rude to Libra, instead of reacting like their sister sign Aries would, Libra would accept the rudeness and then continue about their day thinking how and why that happened.

Libra also tends to put their feelings on a larger context. They ask themselves, I feel this way because this happened to me, but doesn’t everyone feel this exact way when this happens? So by concluding that everyone experiences a certain feeling, Libra decides they don’t need that feeling. If emotions don’t help a Libra, they get rid of them. And by get rid of them, I mean they either try to rationalize them so they don’t exist or they just try to ignore it.

Libra will ‘reject’ feelings if they do not believe they have the right to feel that way. For example, if a single Libra sees a cute couple they might have a pang of envy and feel resentment towards the couple in love. But then Libra will go “oh this is just my own bitterness, they haven’t done anything wrong, I’m just being unreasonable” and they’ll tell themselves to stop feeling like that.

Libra will also pick and choose what emotions to experience based on their environment. This sounds really weird I know. But if they’re in a group and everyone is wild and goofy and impulsive, Libra will match their behavior and try to match their emotions. For example, I won’t be excited about a something until someone else is and I feed off their energy.

Libra moons are a little more difficult to understand. They filter their feelings based on what’s “just and proper,” what benefits those around them, and what benefits themselves. Libra moon will choose to delete emotions they don’t know how to deal with. They also tend to never talk about their feelings. Or, and I’m guilty of doing this, will complain about small things so that their friends won’t ask what’s REALLY wrong on a deeper level (because if I never complained about anything, they would be concerned). Libra moons will avoid talking about their feelings. They like to help others though and by helping others, they learn about themselves. They can sometimes act as therapists, asking others how they feel about a certain situation and then those Libra moons will apply what they learned to their own lives.

After talking to other Libra moons on here, I’ve learned that I’m not alone in that Libra moons often feel hollow. Like there’s a cavern in our hearts. Most days it feels unfillable. Our emotions can overwhelm us and so we feel numb. Happiness is dulled, sadness is dulled until everything feels “meh.” There are many days when by all accounts we should be happy or excited but aren’t. It’s like eating bittersweet candy. You don’t really understand the flavor. It has both the sweetest and the sour mixed up together. Our emotions get all jumbled up together, we have trouble trying to separate them because we see how things can have both pros and cons.

Many Libra moons (and suns and 7th house stelliums) feel a continual longing. Specifically, longing for a relationship. There’s an incessant need for partnership, for a companion, to be understood. When that isn’t being fulfilled, it makes our lives imbalanced, throwing our emotions even farther off balance. At the end of the day, despite deflecting attention onto others, we secretly need love and a lot of it. The angsty phrase “I build walls just to see who cares enough to climb over” really applies here. Yes, we give other people a lot of attention. Part of that is to weed out who just likes us to listen and who actually wants to listen to us. We sort out the people who use us for validation from the people who actually care about us. When we find that there’s way more people who only use us, we can become depressed. There’s nothing quite as disheartening to a Libra moon than realizing that all your friends and family don’t ever stop to genuinely wonder how you’re doing. Despite Libra being called the fakest sign, we put that front up on purpose just to see who’s brave enough to look underneath. And unfortunately, very few people are willing to do so. Libra is a people pleaser and will seek companionship even if it is only superficial, but we will never be satisfied until we get that soulmate level connection we are looking for.

EDIT: thanks to @airmom I was reminded of a couple more key features When we do accept our emotions for what they are, it can be extremely hard to let go of them. It becomes like a grudge. Years can go by but when reminded of a situation, our feelings are just as strong as the day it originally happened. Libras tend not to hold grudges, but when they do, they hold them forever. Betrayal really hits home with this sign. If you betray a Libra’s trust, they may act like everything’s fine, they might still be friends with you, you might never even know your actions upset them, but Libras will never truly forgive you for it. This type of resentment just builds up over time. And Libras know logically that they should just get over it, but won’t. (Never tell a Libra “That was years ago, just get over it.” We can’t. We won’t. We’ll hate you for saying this because it implies we haven’t tried. We’ve tried moving on, and we already water down so many of our other emotions, just let us have this, ok?) Libras also will push to the side stuff they don’t want to deal with. They shove it into their closet so to speak. They won’t speak about it or acknowledge that it’s even there. But eventually the closet gets full and it all comes bursting out. Libras can be volcanoes. One little thing can set them off. If a Libra ever snaps seemingly out of nowhere, it’s because they’ve put off dealing with their emotions. Likely, they’re not mad at one little thing, but rather a whole month or year’s worth of frustrations. So if a Libra yells at you, it’s best just to shut up and listen. If they’re in this frame of mind and you start arguing back, they will never ever ever open up to you again. If a Libra actually trusts you enough to tell you what they’re feeling and you try to argue with them or put the blame on them, know that you’ll never earn their trust back. Ever. The next day they might act completely normal, but know this is a front and that they are mentally stabbing you. Again I just want to reiterate here that Libras do not often publicly express their anger (for fear of how others will react) so if they cry or scream in front of you, they’re at their most vulnerable and need your support. Most of the time, support in that situation is just shutting up and listening. Don’t give advice unless they ask. Just nod. Just care. And if they’re up for it, give them a hug. Not a wimpy one. A real hug. Squeeze them and tell them you love them. Libras just want to be understood.

Libras (especially moons) are daydreamers. This is a way out of dealing with reality. Libras escape in their fantasies. They write novels, direct movies, become superheroes, act out music, etc all in their heads. They’ll imagine real life situations over and over. This is why when things don’t go according to plan, they’ll become frustrated. Sometimes they just wish people could read their thoughts because it’s just hard to communicate them. The on,y time you’ll ever find a Libra unfiltered is in their fantasies. It’s the one place they let themselves be free and selfish. The world demands so much of them, their daydreams are their only escape. Libra has a strong martyr complex too. If they can’t find their inner peace, they’ll help you find yours. If they can’t be happy, they’ll try to cheer you up. If they haven’t laughed in ages, they’ll tell jokes until your eyes water and stomach hurts from giggling. They know what hollowness is like, what chaos and imbalance and self hatred is like. They help you be strong so they can tell themselves they will be strong one day too.

Because Saturn exalts in Libra, many Libras feel extreme self-hatred, unworthiness, guilt for no reason, and fear they will be dependent forever. This complex relationship between Saturn and Venus (which is Libra’s main ruler) creates tension. There’s a pull between wanting the beautiful things out of life like clothes, romance, confidence with feeling like they are undeserving of it. — Please be gentle with Libras.

[mfmagazine]

Taxidermy Couture

Article by Lauren Weigle

Photo by Rebecca Schmidt

Taxidermy Couture was definitely a must-have for me once I came across it.  Its art mixed with Goth mixed with glamour mixed with vintage mixed with...well, everything!  The point is that the collections are hot and almost entirely made up of one-of-a-kind pieces.  So, if you see something you like you better snatch it up fast as it may be gone tomorrow.  On the other hand, no one else will have the same gorgeous and unique accessory as you will, which makes each piece even more special.

Let’s talk about the Latin phrase “memento mori” and what it means in terms of Taxidermy Couture.

Memento mori means "Remember you must one day die". It names a genre of artistic creations that vary widely from one another, but which all share the same purpose, to remind people of their own mortality and the punishment they will receive if they transgress the rules of their religion. A phrase that has had a tradition in art that dates back to antiquity. I always say my work is "Memento mori inspired" because I personally am not trying to remind people or their punishment when they die. In fact, I'm not one for religion at all. I was raised Catholic and was forced to go to church every Sunday until I left home at 17, but the silver lining was being able to spend an hour every week staring at beautiful art, art that still inspires me to this day… obviously. As far as the connection between memento mori and Taxidermy Couture... well, my use of animal skulls, teeth, and bones would make anyone think about death.

Pretty intense, just like the name of your label.  How did you come up with the brand’s name?

Originally I called my line "Morbid beauty", but it just didn't feel right; it felt very "Goth" to me. Yes, a large amount of my work has a Gothic feel, and I love that. However, I don't want to pigeon-hole myself into a set aesthetic. Some days I'm super vamp, some days I'm a modern hippie, and other days I'm something I don't have a term for. I am, however, extremely into high fashion and art so I felt "Taxidermy Couture" simply described the work much more, and will continue to do so no matter what direction I go in the future.

Tell me about the woman behind the company, Marya.

That's a hard one! As of [December] I am now Marya, the wife. I am happier than I have ever been before in my entire life! We went to Vegas with 10 friends and had the best time! Other than that it changes all the time. I try to dip my toe in anything and everything that interests me.

Speaking of interests, I want to hear all about your musical alter ego!  Spill it!

Valium Valentine, my pop culture alter ego! She was born a year ago and sadly we only got 3 songs done.  You can find them on Myspace. We (my husband and I) LOVE all kinds of music and wanted to just play. However, once it got started I kind of took over and so we decided it was my baby. I want to make a few more songs before she dies... But, we have another secret band we have been working on, so it can be hard to put your mind in two completely different creative places at the same time. My husband and I will always make music, no matter who hears it. Its funny talking about "my music" when I have some close friends in legit bands, they actually make a living making music and touring. If I ever had the chance to go on tour as a performer I'd jump on it.

Do you think your love of music ever inspires some of your pieces for Taxidermy Couture?

How could it not!? I name pieces after songs or bands all the time. I do a series of multi-chain necklaces with my signature mink tooth lockets and other "vampire inspired" charms, no two are the same, but they all share the name "Vampire Weekend". Aside from that, I think the music world has a huge part to play in fashion. I can't help but be influenced by music; it sets a mood. Bands I loved growing up are probably why I started getting tattoos and wore chucks, so yes, music inspires many a Taxidermy Couture piece.

You also style and cut hair.  Is there anything you don’t do?!

Well, when I was really young I want to be a fashion designer. I'd draw pictures of clothes all day. My mom was a super punk rock chic, purple and green hair, made all her clothes, made jewelry out of scrap metal she'd find on the street, etc. Since the age of 11 she'd ask me to cut her hair. I won't lie. I had a natural knack for it. By age 14 I could do a perfect bob. So, when I turned 18 and had been living on my own for almost a year, I decided I needed to figure out what career path to go in. Hair just made the most sense, and I loved it. Not to mention, Cosmetology school was a hell of a lot less money than college, and I grew up really poor so the thought of debt was scary. I've worked in so many salons over the past ten years. My favorite was Ultra Salon in Manhattan, NY.  I worked there for four years before calling it quits and crossing over to freelance. I did the hair for two Rapture music videos a few years back. As of now I turned our dining room into a mini-salon. I really love working for myself from home, I'm not a conventional person.

Conventional is way overrated.  So, Marya, why is it exactly that you are drawn to things like teeth and animal skulls?

I am very drawn to teeth. They are just so cool and creepy. I have a tooth wearing a crown tattooed on my left arm. I use a lot of bone vertebrae from various animals; they have the most amazing shapes! It seems wrong not making jewelry out of them. But my original inspiration really comes from a necklace I own. Long story short, my long lost father who I met when I was 23; we were both living in NYC and this amazing thing happened and suddenly I had the coolest father ever! Well, for my birthday he gave me this to-die-for Pade Vavra Diamond and shark tooth necklace. He knew I loved shark teeth and diamonds so, boom! Two years ago I made my first rabbit foot/shark tooth necklace for my husband. We had just started dating and he flipped out over it. That's really why I started making jewelry to sell to the public. He's an independent buyer for a clothing store in our neighborhood, so he convinced me I was talented enough to sell my work. A few months later, my Etsy store was up and running. But, I suppose I have a soft spot for things not the norm because of my mother and her friends, a bunch of young artists from Boston. I even got to be in a small independent film called "black hearts bleed red" directed by Jeri Cane Rossi. The bazaar and “oh so talented” artist Joe Coleman was also in this movie. If you aren't familiar with his work you really should Google him. I wish I had the talent this man has! All the little "weird" things about my childhood just stuck I suppose.

How are you able to take these things that, to some, can be considered dark or dismal, but create such beautiful jewelry from them?

It's all your frame of mind, to some it’s creepy and they will never be into it, no matter how pretty it is. But, to me there is nothing dark or dismal about letting these animals live on through art. I don't think any part of the animal should be wasted. Animals give us the gift of food and warmth. To me the bones and teeth are just as precious and should be respected and admired. No animals are killed for the sake of my art. All parts are from animals that have died from natural causes, or have been killed for the meat. I do eat meat, so I can't be a hypocrite.  I only use vintage fur (usually from damaged fur coats from the 1980's or older) because once I found out how they actually skin the animals alive, I couldn't morally buy new fur. I have very high standards for the materials I use, which is a HUGE part of the work that goes into these pieces. How do I make them beautiful? I don't really know... I just play with it until it becomes what it should be.

Tell me more about some of your one-of-a-kind pieces.

The majority of what I make is one-of-a-kind. And, even the pieces I can replicate aren't identical. To me, teeth and bones are like snowflakes. Because of my high standards of how the animal has died I can't place an order for X amount of jawbones at a time, so I work with what I have, when I have it. I do however do a series of animal skull necklaces that are all OOAK. No two are identical because if you are going to spend over $100 on a necklace, you don't want your best friend to buy the exact same one, right? These are special pieces to keep forever and cherish. Chains like Forever 21 make me sad, mass-produced crap that everyone has and falls apart. Not to mention, the poor children working over 8 hours a day for next to no money just so we Americans can be cheap and selfish, but that's another topic for another interview at another time.  

Well then let’s stick to things like some of your vintage-inspired pieces.  Can you tell me a little about those as well?

Well, I use a lot of vintage pieces and up-cycle them. That's another reason why most of my work is one-of-a-kind. I use a mix of new and old charms and chains. Because of my background growing up with my mother I have always thrift-shopped and had fun finding little hidden treasures at flea markets and vintage shops. It may even be in my blood. After meeting my father, I found out he originally started his long career of owning retail stores with a vintage store. I must admit that lately I've been VERY focused on my Taxidermy Couture, but now that my wedding is over I have more free time and I am planning on coming out with new vintage-inspired, non-taxidermy work soon. It all depends on my inspiration. I can't force my work or it will show, and not in a good way. Any art I make is an organic experience.

Ooh, I can’t wait for more vintage pieces!  My absolute favorites are the Vintage up-cycled Chanel earrings and the Mortality charm necklace, but it’s out of stock.  Any come-backs on the horizon for those items on your site that have already sold out?

I've had a soft spot for Chanel since I was about 20. I have enjoyed collecting Chanel earrings since then. I hate clip-on earrings so any vintage pair I can up-cycle into posts, I will. It’s funny you mention the Mortality charm necklace because one of my best friends Katy aka Kickball bought it a few months back, so I got to see her wearing it again at our wedding. She fell in love (her words) with it when we did a La Sera for Taxidermy Couture photo shoot. Luckily for me she used them as her press release photos. La Sera is her solo project. She's more known for her band "Vivian Girls". And again, that is a one-of-a-kind. Ninety percent of the materials used for that necklace were vintage parts.

I’m so jealous!  Any new ideas in the works for more killer necklaces or earrings?

I won't know until I make them, sorry. However, I am lucky that a collector in the mid-west (they are retired and go for nature excursions constantly) has decided they want to "clean out there closet" so to speak, so I have a large number of vertebrae, skulls, and wolf teeth coming in any day now!

I noticed you don’t have any bracelets or watches yet.  Ever think about including some pieces along those lines in future collections?

I've actually done a few pocket watch necklaces, all OOAK and all sold before I could even get them up on my site. I do gallery and trade shows and other events where I sell my work. I also sell my jewelry at Shotwell in Union Square, San Francisco (my current home) and at Modern Eden gallery in North Beach, SF. So, not everything makes it in my own online store. As far as bracelets, it’s funny. I've made a few, but I never really think to make more because I'm not much of a bracelet person myself. I have this thin gold wire I wear every day. Come to think of it, I might be on my third year of wearing it without ever taking it off. How funny! I never really thought about it.

So, if you weren’t doing what you’re doing, what do you think you would be?  A taxidermist?

Definitely not. I am actually squeamish. I don't think I could do any of the dirty work. If there is something I want to do, I'll try it out. However, I do love decorating. I could see myself in interior design. My husband and I love doing theme rooms in our house! We can't wait to own our own home one day and go crazy! Right now I'm starting some business classes. We want to move back to NYC and open our own small Brooklyn boutique. I'll continue to make jewelry of course, but we will fill the store up with any awesome artists’ work we can get our hands on. We're hoping this will happen within the next two years. More than half my online sales are from NYC, so that's a good sign.