#this is like discovering I had astigmatism all over again
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ethel the ring, the great dark, and proximity to god
after a long day of mundane work and classes, while walking something called me to listen to Punish. i listened to it once through my earbuds but it wasn’t enough. I had to blast it in my car during my usual commute. i turned the volume up and drove watching a near-full moon and fading pink clouds in a darkening sky. i started to think about the mysterious “it”.
craving for more, i started listening to preachers daughter. I turned it up again as i got onto the freeway. my astigmatism made stars out of LED headlights and my voice was tested to its limits while singing. i’ve been congested and sick for the past few days and my headache threatened to turn the music off. but i didn’t want to stop feeling. i noticed myself wishing to come across traffic and red lights so i could listen to the album through my shitty car speakers until it was through.
i parked my car in the driveway as “thoroughfare” started playing. all i wanted to do after i took off my boots was find out what “it” is. i felt dumb or out of the loop and desperately wanted to know what “it” is, what is happening to every-body. i kept thinking if "it" is happening to every-body then why do i feel alone? i don’t like feeling unintelligent, not knowing is a fear of mine. looking at the tumblr made it worse, i don’t know all of these philosophers and architects and old french people. i felt so dumb. my last resort was to check reddit. this was hard for me, i really wanted to figure “it” out on my own, and this felt like asking for help.
if “it” is happening to every-body why don’t i know “it”?
i’ve never ever been a religious or spiritual person. when every comment under questions from others curious to discover “it” was to watch the video “the ring, the great dark, and proximity to god” i felt wary. when i saw the rings compared to the circles of dante’s inferno my hesitancy died. dante’s inferno has hovered behind or loomed large in front of my favorite pieces of media.
i had to replay parts of the video multiple times to really listen and not just hear. at first i thought there was no way that it could have ever happened to me. i thought i couldn’t have possibly ever felt it. when i started truly comprehending, it clicked. i felt so thankful that music is my path to the veil. when she said that “it” can be felt in grand, big songs like Cosmic Love by Florence + the Machine, i got it.
i don’t know when i felt it the first time. but i remember when i was conscious of an "it", and that i felt it. it wrapped around me and laid on top of me like a weight while i floated. complete comfort and strange sensations i’ve never felt. of course, i had never heard of anyone else feeling anything like it.
i did not understand how people could call it being stoned and being high at the same time. stones are heavy and being high is so light. i was listening to a record and i melted. i can’t see images in my mind. but i could almost see the music. all of it, everywhere, around me, above me, within me, approaching me.
when the feeling was over i wanted it again so badly. i was just waiting for the next time i could go there. i waited until i could truly sink into it again. it was at the beach and i had headphones on. when i came to, there was a bright red line across my thigh where the umbrella hadn’t covered me.
as i write this i realize that i had felt it before. Listening to songs like Abstract (Psychopomp) by Hozier or The Bomb by Florence and the Machine completely sober and feeling something that i couldn’t explain. I could never quite describe the feeling I got when listening to those songs, it was in my chest and stomach and heart and body. it felt like my heart was sinking, and twisting, and floating, and imploding, and unfurling.
if that feeling truly is “it” i hope that everyone finds it. but be careful or you might get lost in it.
thank you @mothercain
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Honestly mildly obsessed with this Tintin for idea that's just floating around my head that's also me projecting onto him
I have a headcannon that Tintin's mother was blind due to a genetic condition called retinitis pigmentosa, where the cells in the back of the eyes slowly die off until, in some cases, you're completely blind. Most cases however have some form of central vision remaining.
Anyway thinking about Tintin moving into Marlinspike with Haddock and Calculus and they're all learning new things about each other, and one night they all hear a noise and Tintin comes stumbling down the stairs with glasses and a torch, even though it's a full moon and there's plenty of light. Haddock soon discovers that Tintin has an astigmatism and has simply been wearing contacts everywhere because heaven knows what his enemies would do if they discovered his eyes weren't perfectly functional-
Anyway a couple of years pass, not much happens except for Tintin changing glasses every now and then and also getting a pair of sunglasses "to protect my eyes from the bright sun, Captain. Just a simple safety precaution, that's all." No one really says anything about Tintin and his eyes, (Haddock made a couple of jabs when Tintin tripped over the carpet, which only earnt him a withering look,) until Haddock noticed a book on Tintin's desk one morning.
A book for learning Braille.
Now, Tintin's eyes were far from perfect, but surely he didn't need to learn Braille??? Haddock brings up his concerns later and surprisingly, Tintin responds rather quickly. "I may not need it now, Captain, but the future holds many uncertainties that we can only guess."
Haddock shrugs it off, but a few days later he and Tintin are walking across the estate at night under the moonlight. Haddock jabbers on about the different constellations he points to, talking about how they guide sailors across vast spanses of seas. Tintin, meanwhile, seems to be more interested in the ground.
"Goodness, lad, what's so interesting about the grass?"
"It would be more interesting if I could see it, Captain."
"What do you mean, you can't see it?"
They both stop. Tintin sighs, staring up at the sky. "Are there many stars tonight?"
"Of course! There's not a cloud in the sky... can't you see them either?"
"I see Venus, faintly... and I think Mars over there."
"What is going on with your eyes, laddie?"
"I have no night vision left, Captain. I can't see anything past sunset."
Silence. Not a word spoken, only the gentle breathing of the Earth.
"That doesn't sound normal, Tintin."
"I know."
"Have you seen an eye doctor?"
"I've seen an optometrist and an ophthalmologist, Captain."
"And?"
"There's nothing we can do." A pause. "We can only wait for the inevitable and enjoy what we have left."
It hits the Captain harder than a ton of bricks, harder than any punch or blow. He can't help but stare at the boy's- no, the young man's eyes, like azure crystals twinkling in the night.
"You're going blind?"
A small smile.
"How long have you known?"
"Since I was 14. At least, that was when I received the diagnosis. I think I've always known, deep down. My mother had the same condition, you see. Everyone always told me I had her eyes."
Silence again. The earth let out a breath.
"How long do you have?"
"It's hard to say. Perhaps before I'm 30. Maybe not until I'm 60. Even then, we don't know how much I'll lose."
So calm. So sure. As though he was simply discussing the weather.
"Are you scared?"
"Not anymore. It's life, after all. We have no way of controlling what happens; all we can do is accept and adapt."
"Will it be easy?"
"Heavens, no. But it is possible."
They walked back to the mansion, arms linked and steps slow. As they walked, Haddock couldn't help but think of the young teen who had crawled in through the porthole of his cabin all those years ago. The boy with blazing eyes, unafraid of anything but the future. And now, this young man next to him, so peaceful and sure, was unafraid of anything except the past.
#Very random#And very much projecting#But anyway#Enjoy my drabble#Tintin#archibald haddock#les adventures de tintin#the adventures of tintin#captain haddock#writing#wannabe author#Tintin fic#Blind character
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Year 5272_ Solar Rotation 30_ Day 384_ Captain's Log Entry 24_
Today's salvage mission was uneventful. We found nothing but scraps of metal that were too frozen to remove, so we're going back tomorrow with tools to dig them out. I don't think we're going to be enough people considering most of this "colony" can barely stand on their legs, but we have to try. There might be spare parts, or at least something we can burn.
Year 5272_ Solar Rotation 30_ Day 385_ Captain's Log Entry 25_
I had a strange dream last night. I dreamt of an ice cavern with shifting colors, like something was moving behind the ice. It wasn't underwater as far as I know, so maybe it was just an optical trick. Maybe it's my astigmatism carrying over into my dreams. This place is inhospitable and affecting all of us irreparably, and yet we're still here somehow. I don't want to say that I've lost hope, but our options of survival are running out rapidly. I hope the salvage expedition today can yield something from those frozen scraps.
And it is with that hope that captain Ewaz exits his frosted starship which has become his home over the past few years on this frozen planet. Well, he's not much of a captain now with nothing but a skeleton crew and depleting fuel stores. The HMT MS_03 Esper is a scrappy gunship that was once in a fleet of many like it, but as humanity was time and time again pushed to the brink of extinction, model "Striker Threes" like the Esper became few and far between. But it was still in working order, and it was home. At least when Ewaz and a handful of his crew herded what was left of a colony ship onto this frozen wasteland, he didn't need an additional place to say.
The colony ship itself had ended up suspended in the frozen giant's orbit, being picked clean by both the human escapees and other spacefaring types passing by. It had long since been turned into naught but a hovering carcass, spinning past the bare-bones human settlement once a year or so. Therefore, this "colony" was left to scavenge the icy surface of the planet they had ended up on. In navigators this orb was labelled "FP_382 S_82" with warnings of regular temperatures of zero, on the Kelvin scale.
Things truly stood still on FP_382.
Unless you managed to hack them free, that is. Ewaz and the people fit for physical labor in the camp were geared and ready to go for another salvage mission, circling back around to a small cave they found yesterday peppered with miscellaneous debris. It wasn't much, but it was more than they had discovered in weeks. If this place wasn't frozen perhaps things would wash up, but the pillars of still water really made you work for your survival.
Bundled in thermothreaded suits with the names of their colony ship printed on their backs, about eight people geared with picks, hammers and other similar tools set off on a likely unfruitful salvage operation. They were all expecting some level of disappointment, but one man by the name of Quinn always found a reason to smile. Puffing out clouds of steam, he talked about how even if they managed to get but a sheet of metal, he'd cut a toy for his son from it.
It was good that somebody managed to keep their spirits up. It did rub off on the others, even if they weren't readily admitting it. Ewaz had little to care for but his ship and what was left of his crew, but he also understood the sentiment. Everybody needed something to fight for, although for the past few years it had meant struggling to survive, day in and day out. Still, humans weren't known throughout the universe for being pushovers, that's for sure.
Winding through icy caves protected the expedition from the bone-chilling winds on FP_382, and luckily it was also where most of their scavenging could be done. A whistling ululation resounded just below the ceiling of the caves in the shape of gargantuan waves. There must've been an ocean here, once. Ewaz often wondered what you could find inside a place like this if you brought a planet cracker to it, but most races never bothered mining frozen planets unless they were certain it had something they needed.
These caves reminded Ewaz of the one had dreamt of just before waking for the day. No shifting colors here, but he couldn't shake a certain feeling of familiarity while leading the expedition back to yesterday's place of interest. Notches in the walls in the shape of crosses marked their way, as it was often easy to get lost in the reflective ice mazes. Ewaz caught his own face in the ice while rounding a corner — he looked awful. Maybe it was just the distortion, but his eyebags seemed particularly egregious today.
The passage narrowed as the expedition approached the cave they had discovered yesterday, the one full of scrap. Ducking through the entrance, they were greeted with a space of brilliant sky-blue. Smooth ice formed this cave, almost like it had been shaped around a mold. Sharp metal debris littered the ground and walls, stuck partially or entirely in the ice. It was like a time capsule of a battle, rendered through the lens of a poet.
It was time to get to work. Captain Ewaz was more than capable of wielding a pick himself, but he wasn't the one doing back-breaking labor, usually. He was one of the few people in this sorry excuse for a colony that had a wealth of spacefaring experience, and therefore the task of identifying a whole slew of things usually fell on him. Fluctuations in gravitational fields, correctly identifying passing ship models and the faction they might belong to, delegating tasks. It was all within a day's work of being a captain, but Ewaz felt bad for not doing more.
Another person was also not busy swinging picks or shovels, but instead accompanying Ewaz on his slow walk around the perimeter of the cave. This was the colony's resident archivist, scholar, brainy person, by the name of Sun. Their role on the now defunct colony ship was keeping track of population and identity records, but they were well known to have frequented spires of the ship's database as well, picking through all kinds of information. They said they enjoyed it.
Unlike Ewaz, however, Sun was rather tired after just a hike through the winding ice passages. Their pack was light, and even then, they had a hard time catching their breath during the brisk trek here. Though in this weather, it could scarcely be blamed on their physique alone. They never got used to breathing air so cold it froze everything inside your nose in an instant and didn't appreciate Ewaz suddenly coming to a halt in front of a smooth spot of ice wall.
"What do you see, captain? Surely not admiring yourself?" Sun leaned over Ewaz's shoulder, peering at their reflections. "No, but I'm willing to bet you are." Ewaz was sluggish, but not sluggish enough to quip back at the archivist. This wall felt odd, though. It wasn't pockmarked with metal scrap like the rest of this place, a spot of pristine blue ice among the scarred surroundings. He shrugged Sun's body off his back, and reached out to the wall, resting his gloved hand on it. "I think there's something here." "You think there's something in the one place there isn't something, captain?" Sun gave him a critical look before shifting their eyes to the wall once again. "Well, the surroundings are just as important as your target for inferring context. There might very well be something there, except we won't find out unless we get this wall down."
Sun only received a muffled mmhm in response as Ewaz stepped away to grab a pickaxe. Seeing that the captain was finally getting to more substantial work like he no doubt much wanted, Sun took a few steps back from the unblemished ice. Heave, swing, crack. A dent appeared in the wall. This planet may have been frozen to its' core, but the ice was nothing but water in its solid state after all. "Oi, cap'n, what'd you find?" Quinn whipped his head around. He was all for being adventurous, but even a carefree man like him thought it was important to spend your energy on clearly productive things. Mining an empty ice wall was not one. "Not sure," Ewaz took another swing. "Could be nothing," another crack appeared. "We'll find out. You keep doing your thing, Quinn." A dubious reply from the captain, all things considered. He didn't look at Quinn while responding, but Quinn knew full well that the intonation in his voice indicated a smile. Was the man finally losing his mind, after being stranded here for so long?
Sun watched the cracks grow as Ewaz picked away at the blue ice, until a particularly hollow crack indicated that he might've broken through. "Thinner than I thought," Ewaz leaned down a little to peer through the small hole he had just made. "There's another space behind here." He stepped away, inclining his head almost imperceptibly to indicate to Sun that they were free to take a look. They squinted, propping themselves up on the wall and looking through the small hole. It was hard to discern anything beyond the ice wall, but there was definitely another cave. "Very well, captain, I concede. Your deduction skills are very good." "Don't praise me yet, it could be empty." Ewaz approached the wall once again, fully intending to continue swinging even with the very real possibility that there was nothing waiting for him and the expedition on the other side. However, he was convinced he'd get even less out of not trying.
Sun had gotten bored of watching Ewaz pick away at the smooth wall, instead opting to continue their intended walk around the cave to check on the other members of the expedition. Pieces of metal had been coming out of the walls for a little while now, making a sizable pile on the frozen ground. Some looked like ship debris, some were unidentifiable. Sun couldn't reasonably make out the model of what was presumed to be debris either, because to be stuck in ice the way it was, it must've been here for an exceedingly long time. Documentation can easily be lost, regardless of the day or age.
A shattering noise interrupted their musings. Sun rose from crouching over the pile of debris, turning around to look in Ewaz's direction. The ice wall had come down, and the captain stood still among its' remains, looking at something.
A form of rippling blue, blending in with the ice but clearly not part of it at the same time. It filled the cavern nearly edge to edge. It was crawling with delicate concentric etchings, giving off a soft glow. Gentle light swam along the waving shapes of the ice, in that moment having become part of the ambience of an ancient vault. Was this the light in his dream? Ewaz had to shake his head to rid himself of the mesmerized feeling that had overtaken him in that moment.
That feeling was soon replaced with wonder as Ewaz discarded his pickaxe and was suddenly several steps closer to the unidentified object. Sun had also come closer to the broken wall but was apprehensive to approach the strange discovery. Before long, the rest of the expedition also gathered at the broken wall, gawking with awe at what they saw.
The markings made no sense to Ewaz, but as he moved along the length of the object, it began to look more and more like a starship of some kind. There were thrusters, so the nose and cockpit or command room had to be across from them. Between, a sleek exterior of shining blue with vaguely defined wing shapes. It was in a way reminiscent of the captain's Esper, but different still. Surely there had to be a door somewhere?
"Ewaz!" Sun barked at him from across the cave. "You don't even know what that is, get away from it!" "I don't know what that is?! It's a ship!" He gestured with some agitation to what could be interpreted to be the thrusters. As if on cue, a walkway extended to the ground, leading to what looked like a door. If the expedition members' mouths could be any more agape, they would be. Ewaz, too, stared incredulously at the walkway for a second before setting foot on it. "Well, clearly. Sun, any idea where this thing could be from?" "Absolutely none," Sun responded while finally deciding to come closer. They were still somewhat apprehensive, but no alarm systems seemed to be going off from this presumed starship. This thing was impossible for them to place. Blue, glowing? The make and model didn't match anything they had ever seen in any archive they've had access to throughout their life. "You can stand there and stare, or you can help me look," Ewaz continued before reaching for the door, which slid open as soon as his hand was within a certain distance, now allowing entry into the strange vessel.
The inside was equally odd, unlike anything captain Ewaz had seen up until this point in life. He found himself inside a large hall reminiscent of larger warships, the kind you would take visitors into. The interior was not crawling with concentric sigils, instead being a decadent white and gold. The floor and walls were polished until reflectivity, inlaid with curving, gilded shapes. A platform was placed in the center of the hall, partially raised from the ground. On it were complex curves and points, some lit and some dark, but any captain worth their salt recognized a star map. It was an ancient one, but Ewaz could just about make out a handful of home planets he recognized. Planets humans lived on, millennia ago. There was no way this ship was built by humans.
Passageways radiated from the circular hall, with the running lines of glimmering metal directing one's gaze toward them. It seemed a sort of power pulsed in the inlays, perhaps the lifeblood of this ship. While Ewaz was deciding which direction to start with, although it would most likely be the one straight ahead, Sun and the others boarded the unfamiliar starship. Naturally, the star map caught Sun's eyes from the second they poked their head into the hall. The year, though — the year this must've been made in! They could scarcely believe what they were seeing.
"This is ancient!" Sun exclaimed, running their hands over the bumps and grooves of the star map. "Terra, Epis, Alloyon... they were all destroyed thousands of years ago. Captain, do you realize how long ago that was?" "...I don't think I do." Ewaz gave the hall another glance before leaving the star map. "Let's keep looking, though. Who knows what else this is hiding. And no splitting the group."
Curiosity was eating the expedition alive, so it didn't really matter which path they took because every nook and cranny of this foreign starship must hide secrets. They fell in line after Ewaz, continuing through the surprisingly broad hallway. It seemed the captain was, appropriately, looking for the control room of this vessel. It was the one place likely to have some manner of important information, but the lack of indication on where to go didn't make looking easier.
Today however, Ewaz must've just gotten lucky. Before long another door was in sight, smoothly disappearing into a wall, revealing a control room. Wide transparent panels allowed one to view the outside surroundings, currently mostly ice, but just below them were panels lacking all manner of buttons and switches. It was unclear how one was intended to control them, but there must be a way, or this ship would've never gotten anywhere. Symbols and etchings similar to the ones found on the hull were placed on the panels, weakly pulsing white light. There was little to do but to step past the chairs and investigate further. The symbols made no sense to either Ewaz or Sun, much less to Quinn and the rest, even if they were at least pretty. Ewaz observed the control panels for a moment, then reached out again.
A ripple went through the symbols, the pulsing stabilizing into a consistent white glow. The center window panel seemed to fog over, but it was quickly recognized as a screen by the people looking at it. What seemed like lines of diagnostics trickled over it, too quickly to be read. Whatever script this ship was reading from, it was executed without hiccups, changing the screen into a blank display before long.
"Salutations."
A reverberating voice caught everybody off guard, with Ewaz taking a step back and Sun looking like they were ready to jump out of their coat. They watched the screen with bated breath, some of the others with picks at the ready. "You can put those down," the voice continued, seeming to reference the mining tools. A shape became discernible on the screen, resembling a woman with long, flowing hair. Her face seemed relaxed, although her eyes were covered with a blindfold or mask of some kind. The expedition did not feel particularly reassured, but this was perhaps better than being entirely alone on a foreign ship without any guidance.
"What are you?" Ewaz asked once he regained his composure, observing the projected woman with a mix of curiosity and cautiousness. She seemed very still while waiting for a response.
"I am a Model 6 Homai Army Vessel. Class: Vestige. Year of deployment: 3472 of the Intergalactic Calendar. Name: Caledfwlch." The projection replied, dutifully. With each word, Sun's eyes seemed to grow bigger. But Ewaz was faster than them, again.
"Are you the ship computer, then?"
"Correct."
"What date is it?"
Was this man already troubleshooting? However, this seemed to make the projection pause. She didn't look it, but she was likely processing the query. With how quickly presumed diagnostics had been done, this was a little concerning.
"According to my systems, it is year 3495 of the Intergalactic Calendar, solar rotation 30," she responded, almost a little apprehensively.
"Incorrect," Ewaz said with a small, self-satisfied smile. "It's 5272 IG, rotation 30. You've been offline for a long time."
"Logging—" the projection suddenly busied herself "—and done. Thank you for your input."
"You didn't mention a captain. Do you not have one?" Ewaz raised his eyebrow, but the projection's expression was unchanging.
"I do not. But I could use one."
That was a straightforward admission. However, jumping headfirst into piloting something that was over two thousand years old was only a little too daredevil for Ewaz's tastes. He had no understanding of the symbols on the control boards, what this *Vestige* class ship had on board, or if it was even in flight condition. Although considering how smoothly things ran, perhaps it wasn't in that bad of a shape. The woman waited patiently for a response.
"Very well," Ewaz continued, glancing around before bringing his eyes to the screen once again. "What's your name?"
"You may call me Lady."
"Just Lady? Alright. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady."
"Likewise, captain."
Excalibur always reveals itself as a weapon best suited to its user. In the future, mankind is losing against an extraterrestrial empire. While hiding in the ice debris of a comet, Excalibur reveals itself to a captain in the form of an ancient and advanced starship.
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Personal: Eye Saga
It turned out the optometrist was today and not Wednesday, and they had not called to confirm, which means didn't know my appointment time since they called for the reschedule while I was away from my desk. So I stayed up, phoned the lung people as soon as they opened. No joy there. I waited an hour and called the optometrist, set the alarm for forage on the grounds that I'd cleverly scheduled it for a reasonable post forage commute time. Bwahahaha! No.
The alarm didn't go off for some reason. I awoke, immediately realized the sun was wrong through the heavy curtains. It was 15 minutes until appointment time. The appointment being the opposite end of town. Luckily, my body was cooperating with the getting up process. I calculated I could probably get there within the gap between check in nd real appointment time, so I did bear minimum and left.
Only to discover a construction traffic jam at the foot of the driveway. Thinking fast, I went left instead of right, going the long way around to the freeway entrance one south of mine. I stand by my decision, as the line was a third again as long in the rear view mirror as I crested the hill. I was doing well until I hit a jam a little less than halfway to my exit, but it wasn't a full stop jam and only lasted two ramps. I was exactly seven minutes late for check in and they were cool about it since I had time to fill in the survey before the exam.
I've been going there slightly over twenty years. I forget what fluke brought Sky and I there in the first place, and they take my insurance, so I keep going even though I don't like the eye doctor all that much. This time though? He was cool like he was the first decade, so I'm kind of glad I stuck, since I really like everyone else there.
Then it was off to the only lens place in town take my insurance. It turns out basic bifocals are covered, but not the progressive. Oh did I want the progressive, but no way can I raise that kind of money. With my prescription the ultra light lenses are mandatory because basically my eyes are bad, and my left is really extreme. It's going to be between a little over $35. It's going to be weeks, of course. I have astigmatism and an extreme prescription and ordered bifocals and they are literally the only place in town for Medicare/Medicaid/Community health of WA. They are busy, busy people.
Inevitably the frames I liked were all above my coverage level and/or were not suitable for bifocals and/or a prescription this thick. I can't see what I look like in the glsses anyway without my glasses. Finally I was all, why don't you pick three you think would work in the price range and I'll chose from those. So they are the least ugly of the three, which is basically what I've been doing since I got disabled.
I am so excited for them though. I needed bifocals since about six months after I got the last pair, and it will really the fuck help when i'm trying to hand sew while watching TV, and for reading food labels for allergens.
If you know anything about glasses prices, you will know $35-36 is a ridiculously good price for glasses of any type, let alone bifocals for someone with eyes this bad and complicated.
Want to contribute to the help Gwydion see fund? Paypal [email protected] or paypal.me/Gwydion
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Ditch Your Glasses And Terrible Eyesight With These 6 Eye Exercises
Your eyes aren't broken. It's your lens use and bad habits that weaken your eyes over time. And the massive hundred billion dollar optics industry loves it. They keep you in ever increasing prescriptions and tell you stories of the genetic myopia condition.
Photo by Tan Danh from Pexels It's nonsense. Your eyes may not be perfectly healthy, but there's no need to diagnose them under unnecessary conditions. The National Eye Institute reports that “About 42 percent of Americans ages 12-54 are nearsighted, up from 25 percent in 1971. A recent review reports that myopia prevalence varies by ethnicity. East Asians show the highest prevalence, reaching 69 percent at 15 years of age. Blacks in Africa had the lowest prevalence at 5.5 percent at 15 years of age. Children from urban environments are more than twice as likely to be myopic as those from rural environments.” I think it’s no coincidence that those who are more prone to myopia are also the same ones who spend more time in front of a screen. As for the genetic aspect of myopia, science has shown that our own thoughts and actions can change our genetic makeup, and that DNA gets passed down to later generations. A generation of screen watchers begets another, more susceptible, generation of screen watchers. And it’s not just screens that cause myopia. Holding anything close to your face, such as a book, places a certain strain on your eyes and trains them to stay that way. It works the same for farsightedness as well. If you suffer from poor eyesight, you've probably been told that you need to wear either glasses or contact lenses or to save up for expensive lasik surgery. Improving your sight by exercising your eyes might seem pretty unbelievable but a number of ophthalmologists believe that certain exercises may indeed keep your eyes in better shape. These findings are nothing new. In fact, evidence of these claims have been around for almost 100 years! But sadly, because it would greatly affect the optics industry, major studies have never been done.
The Man Who Introduced Eye Exercising
Back in the 1920s, Dr. William Bates, a New York ophthalmologist determined that if eyes responded to glasses by getting weaker, the muscles around the eyes were the key factor in poor vision. He found that a tremendous amount of muscular tension builds up in and around the eyes, causing problems with their ability to see. So, he developed a series of eye exercises to relax those muscles in order to release tension and restore circulation to help improve the eyes’ functioning. The three fundamental eye exercises from the Bates Method are "sunning", which involves shining the sun or a full spectrum light on closed eyes; "palming", which is covering the eyes with your palms, and massaging them gently; and "swinging", which is keeping your eyes focused on an object as you turn your head back and forth from left to right. Since then, there have been many other eye exercises developed that are very easy to implement at any time.
Eye Exercises Are Becoming More Popular
Conditions such as astigmatism, far and nearsightedness, as well as weakening sight, have been improved and sometimes cured by the Bates Method, and some clinical trials appear to prove its effectiveness. At the time, eye exercises were a highly controversial idea, and it still is. Mainstream optometrists widely disapprove, but tens of thousands of people swear by using the Bates Method. By learning to relax their optic muscles, people can improve their eyesight. When you think about it, it’s unbelievable that more studies on this haven’t been done. Lately, though, Bates’ ideas have been receiving unexpected confirmation from scientists who are studying neuroplasticity—a branch of neuroscience that is developing from an understanding that the brain is capable of self-repair and healing, more than we ever thought possible. Psychiatrist Norman Doidge, a neuroplasticity expert, writes: “The natural vision principles behind what did can be applied far more widely than is done now, from the milder problems of those who have blurry vision to more serious ones, and to prevent future vision problems.” He continues on by saying, “Exploring the Bates Vision Method, David Webber discovered the work of Meir Schneider. Schneider, born with vision issues, also had failed surgeries and vision of 20/2000. But working with the Bates method up to 13 hours a day, he eventually brought his vision to 20/60. I hope you caught that: 13 HOURS A DAY. Schneider decided to develop his own approach to restoring vision which is highly influenced by Bates’ work.”
Behavioral Optometry
Some of the key principles of eye exercising are being more and more accepted by mainstream eye care. The idea that the eyes need care and stress relief just as the rest of the body has been developed as a part of a discipline called behavioral optometry. Within this practice, eyesight is considered to be an indivisible part of the whole being and therefore influenced by our behaviour, environment, stress and the cognitive functioning between eyes and brain. Vision links with the other senses. Balance, spatial perception, and mismatches in seeing and hearing can all lead to distortion and mixed signals between the eyes and brain. Behavioral optometry uses visual therapy to fix issues like insufficient focusing, for instance in squinting. You can also help boost your eye exercises by using supplements designed for eyes. Most include extracts such as marigold, bilberry, gingko, and eyebright, in addition to antioxidants and vitamins and minerals such as A, C, E, lutein, and zinc. amzn_assoc_placement = "adunit0"; amzn_assoc_search_bar = "true"; amzn_assoc_tracking_id = "mercuriousmin-20"; amzn_assoc_search_bar_position = "bottom"; amzn_assoc_ad_mode = "search"; amzn_assoc_ad_type = "smart"; amzn_assoc_marketplace = "amazon"; amzn_assoc_region = "US"; amzn_assoc_title = "Shop Related Products"; amzn_assoc_default_search_phrase = "eye supplements"; amzn_assoc_default_category = "All"; amzn_assoc_linkid = "dab3cd9330efa1b9ebd5d61221a7199d";
6 Eye Exercises You Can Do Anywhere
1. Eye Circles
Eye circles will help tone and stretch your eyes' muscles. Slowly move your eyes in a clockwise direction 20 times. Make as wide a circle as you are can. Relax for 10 seconds and repeat in a counterclockwise direction. Do this exercise a few times throughout the day. If having your eyes open for this exercise is too uncomfortable, you can opt to close your eyes.
2. Zooming
Focus exercises can help strengthen your eyes. Hold a pen upright or simply use a thumbs up motion and straighten your arm in front of your body. Focus your eyes on the tip of your thumb or pen. Focus for 10 seconds. Slowly bring the pen towards your nose while gazing at the tip. Hold this position for 10 seconds. Slowly extend your arm again while focusing your eyes on the tip and repeat the process three times. Try to blink as little as possible. Relax your eyes and repeat throughout the day.
3. Face Focus
Lower your eyes and gaze at the tip of your nose and hold this position for 15 seconds. Do not blink. Slowly return your eyes to the original position. Close your eyes and relax for 20 seconds. Open your eyes and look up at your eyebrows for 15 seconds. Return your eyes to the original position. Close your eyes and relax for another 20 seconds. Repeat this exercise throughout the day.
4. Eye Squeezes
Squeezing will strengthen and stretch your eye muscles. Tightly contract your eye muscles by closing and squeezing your eyes together. Hold this tension for 4 seconds. Open your eyes. Quickly blink your eyes a few times. Relax for 5 seconds and repeat. Do this exercise throughout the day.
5. Up and Downs
Strengthen your eye muscles by doing up and down maneuvers. Look up at the ceiling a few feet in front of you and hold for 5 seconds. Return your eyes to the straight-ahead position. Relax for 6 seconds. Move your eyes to look down at the floor a few feet in front of you and hold for 5 more seconds. Return your eyes to the original position. Blink quickly to relax your eyes. Repeat this exercise throughout the day.
6. Figure 8
Practice controlling the movement of your eyes. Imagine a giant figure eight right in front of you and trace the figure eight with your eyes, slowly. Trace it one way for about 30 seconds and then relax your eyes for 15 seconds. Trace the opposite way for another 30 seconds. Relax and repeat throughout the day. Read the full article
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ALWAYS
Request: N/A
A/N: I love preserum Steve so much. Hopefully I’ll be able to write more of him!
Preserum!Steve x reader
Word count: 1196
Summary: Steve so badly wants to join the army, but with his health, it’s impossible. As much as (Y/N) wants to support him and his dream, she can’t help but be doubtful.
Warnings: angst, mentions of war and chronic illness, (it has a fluffy ending though)
(GIF not mine)
You couldn’t believe him. You simply couldn’t believe him. Steve had a whole laundry list of health problems, all of which would disqualify him as a soldier, yet he still wanted to enlist! You wanted to support Steve and his dream of following in his father’s footsteps, but you couldn’t help but doubt him. It pained you to feel so negatively about Steve’s fantasy, but it was only realistic.
“You’re not going back there, Steven, I won’t let you!” you shouted, crossing your arms over your heaving chest, “I’ve got to try, (Y/N)… just one more time,” Steve whined back, turning around to face you. You two had fought over this subject time and time again. Steve would tell you he was going to try and enlist, you’d reprimand him for even bringing it up, he’d look at you with his big, glassy blue eyes, then you’d cave and let him do it. But, after you discovered he had been lying on his enlistment forms, you nearly socked him in the face like the bullies in the back allies.
“I have to do this! They need every man they can get out there on the front lines!” Steve rebuked, mimicking your body position, “this is war, (Y/N), we all need to pitch in,” “yeah, but pitching in doesn’t mean you have to get yourself killed on the battlefield!” you add sarcastically. You glared daggers at him, hoping that he’d feel the pain your stare was purposed to inflict on him. “Steven Grant Rogers, you are in no condition to fight in the military!” you pointed out, gesturing to his scrawny stature. You hated using Steve’s own body image against him, but you knew it was the truth; Steve wouldn’t last one minute out on the field with how sickly he was. “(Y/N)-” “no, Steve! I will not cave this time!” you interrupted, angrily stomping your foot on the ground. Steve’s face flattered a bit at your fierceness, but he quickly regained his firm composer.
You both just sat there, staring at each other bitterly, neither one of you willing to back down. For what seemed like a century, you stood there- silent.
“Steven, I know where you’re coming from. You want to be like your father and join the army, you want to help people…” you paused for a moment, letting your harsh stance melt away as you softened your expression, “and Steve… if they enlisted men because of their character, you’d be accepted in a heartbeat,”. Steve stepped closer, his stubborn glare also melting away as he soaked in your words, “you’re brave and honorable and humble. You’re sweet and compassionate, you have the kindest heart of anyone I’ve ever met,” you sobbed, letting a few tears roll down your cheeks.
You were so scared for him. You were scared that you would lose him. You loved him with all your heart and he loved you just as much, if not more. You didn’t want to lose that, who would? Sure, Steve may not have been the tallest, strongest knight in shining armor that every other girl wanted, but he was your prince charming- and you were his beloved princess. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Steve, you are so wonderful, you’re the most perfect, amazing gentleman I’ve ever come across, but… you’re not fit for the army…” you squeaked, knowing that your words were like daggers in Steve’s fragile chest. “Steve, you’re asthmatic, you’re partially deaf, you’re color blind, you have stomach ulcers and astigmatism...” you listed, tears freely flowing from your sorrowful eyes. “You have scoliosis and heart palpitations and anemia and-” “ENOUGH!” Steve cried, wiping the tears from his red-hot face. You wished you could take it all back. You wished you had never opened your mouth at all. You knew what you were saying was confirming every doubt Steve had ever had about himself. And knowing that killed you on the inside.
You finally gathered enough courage to look Steve in the face, though what you saw wasn’t very pretty. His face was red and blotchy from all the crying, his eyes were bloodshot and his plush bottom lip was quivering as he tried to stop his profuse weeping. “(Y/N)… I know you don’t believe in me… no one does…” he confessed, turning away from you, “but… I need to prove to myself that I am useful… that I’m not a disappointment like everyone thinks I am…”. It was at that moment your heart broke in half.
You ran to him, holding him tightly in your arms as you cried. “Steve, you’ve never been a disappointment to me, not ever in your entire life,” you bawled, kissing his forehead. “Sure, you may not win a whole lot of fights, but you always fight. You always stand up for what you believe in, you always fight for the little guy, you always fight for those who can’t fight for themselves,” “then why won’t you let me do that?” Steve questioned, pulling away from your embrace so he could look you in the face. “I can do that, I can fight for so many helpless people if only you’ll let me enlist. So why won’t you let me?”.
You paused for a moment, not really wanting to confess what you were really thinking, but knowing you had to tell him the truth. “You’ll die…” you finally said, holding back more tears that were threatening to spill, “you’ll die and I can’t watch the person I love die,”. You sobbed, hunching over and hiding your face in your hands. Steve approached you again, moving your hair out of your face so he could see you. He looked at your beautiful eyes and whispered, “I won’t die,”. “How do you know that?!” you whaled, clutching your heart in your hands, “how many other men have said that exact same thing to their loved ones and never come home, huh?!”. Steve smiled at you, holding your hands in his, “I know that because I have the most wonderful girl in the world to fight for, and I’ll have the most wonderful girl in the world to come home to,”.
He held you. He held you close to his heart as you wept into his shoulder. You clutched his small figure to yours, unwilling to let go, for fear that you might lose him. “I love you, (Y/N),” he whispered, rubbing your back and kissing your cheek, “I love you more,” you replied, carding your fingers through his soft, blonde locks.
Even if by some miracle he did get into the army, there would still be the high probability of him never coming home. But, even then, you knew Steve would fight his hardest and longest to return to you. You knew he would always fight for you, and you would do the same for him. Always.
#steve#steve rogers#steven grant rogers#pre serum steve#preserum steve rogers#skinny steve#skinny steve rogers#steve x reader#steve rogers x reader#reader x steve rogers#reader x steve#reader x preserum steve#reader x preserum steve rogers#preserum steve rogers x reader#preseum steve x reader#baby steve#marvel#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfics#triple f#fantastic fantasy fanfics#damn we need more preserum steve in our lives#yay! Preserum steve!#captain america the first avenger#catfa
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Tuesday, 29th of november 2005
When I left home this morning, I saw that someone had repainted the pavement's white lane markings. The newly lettered STOPs covered the old and faded characters like freshly fallen snow.
The icy new lines sat slightly off-center the old ones, and the two STOPs blended into double-vision. I felt as though I had astigmatism when I looked at them. The painters hadn't traced the old edge-lines very well either. I could see traces of the old and over-trodden markings beneath the newly painted lines.
They should do better work when they try to renovate the area. Even so, the repainted lane markings made me feel as though the roads had renewed their vigor.
I walked to the train station and thought about roads. Roads and the ground that they pattern form much of our perception of a town. We need them to comprehend something as simple as a row of houses along a street.
An unpleasantly warm wind slipped across my face.
I noticed the blurred STOP letters on the ground and then I noticed other lines and figures that I usually ignore. Though it sounds odd, the lettered STOPs made it impossible to stop seeing new things!
I observed the pavement while I walked, and the act felt natural. I had paid enough attention to notice two species of STOPs on the road: one written in kanji, and the other written in hiragana. Had someone placed the hiragana STOPs for younger school children who might rush into traffic? And, if that's so, had someone placed the kanji STOPs in traffic lanes for kanji-literate drivers?
No... I decided against my explanation. I saw hiragana STOPs for drivers too. What standard does the city use to determine where hiragana and kanji STOPs go?
I continued walking with my head bent toward the ground. I saw so many painted figures such as squares, plusses, and perpendicular Ts. I noticed numbers and letters on speed limit signs... I saw Emergency Parking signs in front of the hospital. I even noticed the commonplace median markings, stop lines, and crosswalks.
I gave the pavement's surface more and more attention. I saw grounded dashes, marks, numbers, and letters fill the pavement. All countries paint this kind of national graffiti on their roads.
I hadn't realized so before, but different types of roads serve as navigation media that carry a lot of information. The asphalt symbols define a sort of program to describe the way everything should move... people, bicycles, motorbikes, and cars.
I didn't see a single naked road during my walk to the station. Well… I didn't see anything in the alley where I take my shortcut. No cars travel there.
We'll see our roads painted with more and more symbols in the future. We'll walk around looking at the numbers and road signs on the ground.
We should look at the ground more often while walking. Our postures will worsen, but perhaps we'll discover something from our new perspective. Our tears will drop straight down our faces though, so we'll need to take care when we cry.
I ate an Agedori Lunch at the restaurant Hana Goyomi. Gucci ordered Ishiyaki Kaisen.
I met with Mr. Muraoka at the bookstore. He recommended that I pick up The Day Yukio Mishima Died (Vol. 2). I got Joseph Finder's new novel, Paranoia, instead.
People are holding many festivals in honor of the thirty-fifth anniversary of Yukio Mishima's death. The movie Spring Snow has become a big hit recently too; Mishima wrote the film's source material. Maybe I'll read Mishima's books again after I've taken a long break from them.
My father ardently admired Mishima's writing. I remember his shock when he learned that Mishima had committed harakiri.
I stopped by Shin-chan's work booth after I had returned to KojiPro. I found him with a Mishima biography.
Shin-chan, Murashu, Rettsu, and I received our flight suits for OOOO Training from Phantom. Murashu tried his on first. He posed flamboyantly when I took out my camera.
We had arranged to get identical flight suits. We bought them used from a military base. We don't need brand-new materials this time because we plan to incorporate them into our self-made camouflage outfits.
Each suit's color differs from the others', but they all were once identically green. The colors of the Nomex fibers blush when over-exposed to the sun. The tincture of the new colors depends upon the circumstances and length of exposure to ultraviolet rays.
Each suit outwardly bears the record of its military career.
Microsoft has recently released the Xbox 360 in the United States. I played a bit of Project Gotham Racing 3 and drove a white Lotus Esprit through London. I felt like Roger Moore as 007.
I parked the car on the side of the road and then manipulated the camera to view the onlookers behind the wire frame. The people aren't in 2D - they're in 3D! It's a next-generation system, so that's really expected.
I played the U.S. version, and I found that the options include Japanese and even Korean subtitles. Incredible... does this mean that the system is region-free? If that's true, then I can play foreign games too. I definitely want to play King Kong, but I should watch the movie before I play the game.
I gave an interview in the early evening with Mr. Hamamura for Famitsu's December 22 issue. Mr. Hamamura's interviews always turn into pleasant conversations.
Enjoyable interviews don't happen very often. No matter how many interviews I give, I always feel apprehensive. I especially become more cautious whenever I interview with newspapers or general interest magazines. Some of the nastier interviewers schedule an appointment just to bring up their ideas about the immorality of video games. Other wily interviewers try to talk me into a corner. I actually get a stomachache after enough of those.
Mr. Hamamura is totally different. We have both worked in the industry for a long time, and he has a lot of experience in games. Mr. Hamamura loves games, and he shares my concern for the future of the gaming industry.
I actually started to enjoy today's conversation so much that I forgot it was work! I dropped my guard and I accidentally mentioned our new PSP project.
I'll apologize to Okamura before they publish that issue of Famitsu.
I went shopping in Ginza later in the evening. I hadn't been there in a while. Ginza's department store closes early at night, so I only had an hour. I had to shop so quickly that I didn't have a lot of time to deliberate.
I automatically rush out of a department store whenever they play Auld Lang Syne. They only use the chime to announce that they will close soon. They don't mean to throw me out, but I rush out anyway. I wasn't able to buy a lot, but at least I had the chance to shop.
I saw a huge Christmas tree in front of the Chanel boutique. It would light up only in fixed intervals, probably to save energy. All the nearby girls started to photograph the tree with their cell phones when it lit up. They treated the occasion like a red carpet affair for a film star.
I pulled out my camera, too, for HIDEOBLOG. I was the only man there-but at least I had the best camera.
I wonder... who will they show their pictures to? Will the girls send them to their peers or boyfriends by cell phone email? I don't think that many women take photographs to preserve their subjects' beauty. I think they take them to show other people.
Of course, I took my photograph to include in HIDEOBLOG. Widespread cell phone usage has really changed the purpose for photography.
I passed in front of the lottery ticket seller with the reputation for selling the most winning tickets. Unfortunately they had already closed for the day.
I was surprised to see guards standing around the front of the booth. I suppose they had received a lot of daytime business.
It was the legendary booth where they sell the most winning tickets in Japan. The booth's front sign proclaimed in large letters: "Our billionaires were born here! Three hundred people have won 42.1 billion yen during the whole Heisei Era! Fourteen people won 2.6 billion yen in Heisei-16 alone!"
The booth gave me a strangely strong feeling that I could win. I would have bought some tickets had the booth stayed open. I stepped closer and noticed that its windows had been assigned numbers from 1 through 7, with the exceptions of 4 and 6.
I can understand why they omitted 4 - it’s an unlucky number. I wonder why they left out 6 though. What's wrong with 6?
I mused quietly to myself about these things, and Kenichiro called the Chance Center to ask about it.
They had seven numbered windows in the beginning. "Vox Populi, Vox Dei" had mentioned on November 28 that people would wait in line at Window-1 for three and a half hours. The window gained a reputation for selling many winning tickets. News of Window-1's fortune spread, and its business increased.
After a while, Window-1 couldn't handle its number of clients. They wanted to create a second Window-1 to resolve this. They would renumber the windows 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 – but then 7 would have disappeared. They couldn't just do away with lucky number seven. They decided to discard the number 6, so that's why the booth appears as it does today.
Even lottery shops outwardly wear their histories.
I would have bought lottery tickets from Window-3. I haven't aggrandized the number 3 like the hero did in Stealth. It's just an attractive looking number, and I've always liked it because of that. Number three is also another lucky number.
At the HMV in Ginza, I listened to the album With Love & Squalor by the band We Are Scientists. I decided to go ahead and buy it. It's the New York based trio's first album.
Their style sounds a lot like British rock, and their sound coheres with the in-vogue Post-New-Wave movement. The Bravery and The Rapture came from New York too. Perhaps British rock fans should pay attention to New York.
I ate a late dinner at Toridori in Ginza San-cho-me. "San" means three, so there's another number three! It took me a little while to realize that I had been there before.
I settled for a couple of glasses of draft beer since I wasn't in top physical shape today.
I left Ginza on the Hibiya subway line. It was already late, so I just descended at the transfer station and passed Roppongi Station. I didn't go back to the office.
I only bought a ticket for the trip between Ginza and Roppongi since I already have a commuter pass. I wouldn't have been able to pass through the automatic ticket gate outside the transfer station without that ticket. The alarm would have activated if I had only inserted my Roppongi pass. They use these measures to prevent people from cheating on their fares.
I have always taken the gate with an actual stationed employee to solve that problem. I could simply show him both my commuter pass and my ticket. I went to the last gate on the row and presented both to the employee.
"Oh, right," he said casually. "Put both of them into the automatic gate's slots, please. Then you can pass with no problem!"
"Really? I haven't heard of this before."
I half doubted what he said, but I inserted both into the machine as he had advised. It's the same method used when boarding the Shinkansen bullet train. They require us to insert both the regular ticket and the special express pass at the same time.
The gate opened just like he said it would.
"Wow!"
That was convenient. How long have they used this? Was I the only one who didn't know about it? Or had they recently revamped the automated gates?
I later considered it rationally, and I realized that it shouldn't be too difficult. From both technological and financial perspectives, machines ought have the ability to accept a ticket and a pass pretty easily, one laid atop the other. What have they been doing all this time?
It's such a trivial matter, but I can't stop thinking about it.
I suddenly remembered when I first passed through an automatic ticket gate. I had boarded the Hankyu Line in the Kansai region. That was over thirty years ago.
Not many people know this, but Kansai used automatic ticket gates long before Tokyo. They installed the mechanized gates one day without any warning. I was a boy in elementary school, and I felt as though the door to the future had opened.
"Now, wait just a second...."
Thirty years have passed. The ticket-reading technology and its speed have surely improved since then. It can now recognize the doubled-up SUICA Pass.
But can we really call that progress? We've only modified our machines to read two passes at once after thirty years. Nothing about the ticket gates has really changed, unless we count the advertisements stuck on them. Other technologies advance quickly, but ticket gate technology has moved as slowly as a turtle. Even the game consoles have advanced rapidly within only ten years.
What will the next-generation ticket gate look like? The idea seems kind of strange.
I'm sure that the very concept of ticket gates will disappear in the future. We'll soon enter into the age of digitized personal identification. We won't need to carry anything with us. We'll shop with digitized personal IDs, and we'll even use them to pay for transportation and food. The fees will automatically withdraw. A time will come when personal IDs will handle all of our living needs-food, clothing, and even shelter.
It will be convenient, but I still can't shake the suffocation that comes when I think about it. We may even see a society so controlled that we'll need personal IDs just to breathe fresh air. We will exchange that freedom for 21st century security.
I wrote HIDEOBLOG after midnight with the television running in the background. I saw Mr. Tokoro's commercial several times: "The End-of-the-Year Jumbo Lottery: Three Hundred Million Yen!"
The absent Window-6 haunts me.
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Confessions Of Two Monster-Human Hybrids, Part 1 (Lost and Found Arc)
As they learned that all of the monsters knew something was wrong with them, and even Frisk's parents, they knew they had no choice but to tell them. So they got ready to tell the truth. ALL OF IT.
"Fine." Frisk and Chara said in unison.
"WHAT?! WHAT DID YOU SAY?! I CAN'T HEAR YOU! WHAT?!" Asriel blared, trying to get them to speak louder.
"YOU WANNA HEAR OUR SOB STORIES, FINE! YOU'D JUST PRY IT OUT OF US ANYWAY! JUST DON'T SAY WE NEVER WARNED YOU!"
Frisk and Chara wiped their tears away.
"Finally. Chara, you first." Toriel commanded.
"Fine, mom." Chara relented.
She took a deep breath, letting every last memory she had of the past come back to haunt her to almost no end.
"My parents were normal people. My mother was originally a human. Her name was Laura. She was a brunette that had shoulder-length hair. She had very simple clothing back then. She met and married my father. He was an astigmatism named Charon. When he fell in love with my mother, they conceived a child. In essence, me. They were super kind to everyone, and were completely and totally innocent. My mother and father didn't want to raise me in Mount Ebott, so they had a plan: take me to the surface, and raise me up there. In order to do just that, my mother gave my father her soul so he would be powerful enough to cross the barrier. After that, my father held us both in his arms, passing through to the barrier. I suppose being what I am, my soul was powerful enough to cross the barrier without needing a monster soul beforehand.
After crossing the barrier, my father returned my mother's soul to her body, but in exchange, a small bit of his soul got stuck in hers, and vice versa. Then, we went to a nearby village that settled at the base of the mountain. It was a small village, and not a lot of people lived there, but it was safe. Or at least that's what we thought.
Then...the so-called 'humans'. And I'm not talking about the type that actually genuinely try to better people's lives. I'm talking about the REAL monsters of this world. The ones that only identify as human physically, but are actually demons in human skin."
Chara stopped for a moment, remebering exactly what happened to her poor mother. Then she clasped her chest, making her creepy face.
"My parents had always been so careful as to not let them know a magician and a monster were living amongst those animals. But then one day, entirely by accident, my mother slipped up, and one of the villagers saw her casting magic. It was fire-based, for she was trying to cook, but she didn't have any kindling for dinner she was making. That villager spelled doom to my entire way of life, and we were practically already living in poverty, being forced to scavenge for our food. They told everyone that mom and dad were a wizard and a monster, and they even mentioned they had a child, which, again, was me. Later that night, they and the rest of the village came to our home, intending to kill us all. My mother tried her damndest to stop them. They stabbed her enough times to force her to stop fighting, and they burned her alive at a stake!"
Everybody went into shock immediately, especially Alphys and Asgore.
"Y-y-y-y-your m-m-m-mother... sh-sh-sh-sh-she was b-b-b-burned? AT A STAKE?!" Alphys stuttered, thoroughly petrified.
"Yes! She was burned at a stake! My village was one of those that looked down at magic, and they had a policy: anyone who uses magic, or is magic, will be destroyed! And that's just what they did to my mama."
"Dear God. I had no idea. So it is true. Magicians were burned at the stake after all."
"Yeah. My father and I couldn't take being forced to watch as my mother was burned alive. Then they went for us. My mother's soul left her body, but, not wanting to be separated from my dad, it flew as fast as it could to him. He reabsorbed it, and they fought to protect me. As first, they were winning. It looked like they could protect me from them. Then, one of the villagers snatched me from behind and tried to slit my throat right then and there. My father spotted this, and killed them before the knife could touch my neck. Then, my parents locked my soul, and threw me into the house, but not before they both said 'goodbye, Chara. We love you.' I told them 'I love you, too' as they locked my soul and gave me a chance to hide. I hid as far into the house as I could. I even camouflaged myself so I could hide in plain sight. However, I could sense them all ganging up on my parents, so, still camoflaged, I snuck out to see my parents fighting them all. The villagers overwhelmed them, and my father's body succumbed to the injuries. Then, they turned to my house. They burned it down, thinking that even if I was still inside, I would perish. They were right to think that. In fact, I almost did. The smoke became a lot for me to handle, but I was determined to live, so I found a cubbyhole in a closet, and I crawled out through there. I barely survived, but as I finished crawling out of that impending doom I called an inferno, I passed out. The smoke I inhaled while trying to escape was overwhelming.
The next day, I woke up to find the charred remains of my former home. I cried to myself, lamenting the loss of everything. My parents, my home, the pittance of stuff I had. I couldn't help my parents, and I blamed myself for both of their deaths. I was depressed for a very long time, but the villagers made it exponentially worse. They knew what I was. They all treated me like I was some piece of meat. Some of them beat me, some of them teased and laughed at me like I was a freak, and some of them called me names, like 'cyclops girl', or 'orphaned abomination', and even...'devil child'.
I wasn't evil. They just didn't understand. They proved that much when I begged for food, water, or simply a place to stay. They turned their backs on me, and I was forced to resort to other methods, since it seemed like they wanted me to starve to death. So I stole what I could to fight off starvation and thirst. I stole some water and a canteen, and I stole food whenever I could, not knowing when my next meal would be, or even if I'd get another one. They hated me for that, but I didn't know it was wrong to steal. I had no choice but to for four years.
Then one day, a villager actively seeked me out. I was in a tree sleeping, and they found me and woke me up. I was so scared, but they looked so nice initally. I thought maybe they would help me, but that dream was quickly dashed to smithereens, for they told me why they wanted me. My soul. They knew I was a hybrid. I didn't know how until they told me of a prophecy I was involved with. They figured with my soul, alongside the genocide of all the monsters of Ebott, they would ascend to a level of normally unattainable power. Then, they tried to kill me right then and there by choking me to death. I struggled, but he wouldn't let go. Suddenly, I found a knife on him and realized it. No one would miss me in that village. They would throw me away simply because I wasn't an ideal little girl. So I took the knife, and I stabbed him. It was enough to force himself off of me. After that, I stopped trying to give him mercy. I stabbed him over and over and over again. And the worst part is I enjoyed it. I liked it because that man was getting exactly what he deserved.
By the time I realized what I did, it was too late. His blood was all over my hands, my clothes, my body. Luckily, none of the other villagers saw anything, so I took that knife and ran away. I didn't look back, not even for a second."
The monsters that were listening started feeling bad for Chara. None of them knew what she went through.
"Princess. I had no idea. You ran from that village?" Gaster said, lending his heart out to Chara.
"Yes. As far as I could, as fast as I could, as hard as I could, and as long as I could. I refused to stop or slow down until I was absolutely certain that I was safe. By the time I stopped running, however, I was in a forest similar to this one. I had to take some time to catch my breath. I practically blew out a lung, trying to run away and never go back to that village. As far as I was concerned, my mind was split between two voices. One said 'I should go and face the consequences, regardless of the circumstance', but I couldn't hear that voice because there was an even louder voice roaring 'NEVER GO BACK TO THAT VILLAGE! IF THEY DIDN'T WANT YOU DEAD THEN, THEY'LL ESPECIALLY WANT YOU DEAD NOW!' I listened to that voice, and that was the last and final step I took before I officially became 'Chara'."
"Chara, I wanna know something." Sans said after hearing Chara out.
"Couldn't you have just left the village before that man came after you? Because you could've just went to the mountain after your house got burned down. Don't push this on all humans. You're the issue."
"It's not that simple, comedian. But I will admit, in a way, you're absolutely right. At first, I was so scared and so desperate to get help. Each day, those people saw me beg for the most basic things I needed to stay alive, and every last one of them chose to do absolutely nothing. The milk of human kindness abandoned me. Abandoned me, betrayed me, and left me to die within the cataclysms of my own despair. But when that man came to speed up the process, I discovered the power to end the life of a threat with a few well-placed blows and strikes. Never before had I felt so liberated.
After I made it to the forest, I quickly took off everything I had on my body, found a stream, and cleaned off the blood. After that, I stayed up there for a while. I scavenged for my food, and I got my water from that stream. It was hard, but at least the food was consistent...to an extent. Sometimes wolves came nearby and tried to take what I had. I killed one, and used its pelt to keep me warm at night. Whatever meat it had, I cooked and ate it.
After a few weeks of living in the forest, I calmed down. I started to feel better. I felt so far away from those humans that I stopped caring whether anyone was around. I got my things and traveled further up the mountain. I made it far up enough to find a cave. I figured it would be the perfect place for me to remain in, so I went inside to check it out, but then I tripped on something and fell in a huge hole it had."
"Wait. Are you telling me you didn't mean to fall into the underground?"
"Yep. Fell completely by accident. Crazy, ain't it?"
Sans was dumbfounded. Chara survived on her own, only to trip on something. He didn't know whether to laugh, or to rage.
"Anyway, as I made my descent into what I thought would be death, I reflected on my life. I thought about all the times I had take something from someone just to survive. The times where I had to kill little animals just so I could eat. The grown man I murdered just so I didn't take his place. I figured that even though I didn't wanna die, it was no longer possible to avoid at that point, especially if I deserved it. So I accepted my fate, and continued my descent with a clear mind, only to drop down on something and survive. When I found out I survived the fall, the first thing I thought was 'AAH! THAT FUCKING HURTS! OW!' It was beyond painful to endure.
Suddenly, I saw Asriel for the very first time. When I saw him, I didn't know that the legends were true, but there he was, a monster, trapped within the mountain with almost no hope of escaping at all. And yet, he was kind and caring. At first, I was just scared of him because he was a monster. But after I warmed up to him, he took me to his parents. You know, mom and dad? I was scared of them at first, but after getting to know them initially, they felt good to be around. They loved me enough to take me in as their child. They said I gave them hope, but what they didn't know is that they did the same for me. The monsters helped me when the humans wouldn't. That's when I realized it. Humans believed the monsters to be evil, but they were wrong. But when I learned that Asriel was a prince, and his parents were the king and queen of monsters, it was...strange. I expected a king and queen to be one of those rich types and stuff, but there they were, humble as ever. I looked up to them, and I still do. I wish I could have that nature to nurture others.
Eventually, the royal family and I got close enough for me to tell them what happened to me on the surface. And they cried. Mom, dad, and Asriel, they all just cried. They were so sad that it happened to me. They held me close, and told me that I would always be welcome in their family.
After that, I started acting like a normal kid would. Asriel and I got into trouble every now and then. But I never forgot the buttercups. When Asriel and I accidentally tried to make a butterscotch pie with buttercups in it, I was traumatized."
"I don't know." Undyne said, playing devil's advocate.
"According to Asriel and those tapes we heard, you laughed."
"Yes, I did laugh, Undyne. But it's not because I found it funny. I laughed because I was trying to stop myself from crying. I failed miserably at that especially because later that night, Asriel heard and saw me crying my eyes out. He asked why I was crying, and I just told him it was the buttercups. He hugged me and cried it out with me, too. I still regret calling Asriel a crybaby. When he cries, at least he does it when it would be normal for someone to. In truth, between the two of us, I'm the real crybaby."
"If you tried to laugh it off, then why'd you cry when you kept telling Asriel to stop crying?"
"Because I hate watching someone cry because it reminds me of myself. Also, I just...couldn't hold it in anymore. Believe me, I tried my hardest, but lately, I haven't been able to hide the tears at all. They've just been flowing like crazy."
"Well, what happened after the whole butterscotch thing or whatever?"
"BUTTERCUP. And after that, it gave me an idea.
I asked why they were trapped in the first place. Long story short, humans, or should I say magicians, were to blame. I realized that with my soul, Asriel can cross the barrier, grab six more souls, and destroy the barrier. I told him my plan, but to kickstart it, I had to die. I remembered the buttercups, and I got really sick. It was bad. Death by buttercup is fucking torture. Never again."
"Chara, you d-"
"NEVER AGAIN! Anyway, after Asriel absorbed my soul, I took over and carried my dead body to my village. But then I saw those things, and I got really angry. I was ready to murder every last one of them. Give them the exact same mercy they gave me: absolutely none. Before I could perform the first blow, Asriel snatched back control before I could kill the first one. It was mortifying. I trusted Asriel to let me get the six human souls we needed, and that was how he repaid me? I was so angry at him. I started screaming at him 'GIVE ME BACK CONTROL, REI', but he wouldn't budge. He just took my body up again and carried me right back home. I was pissed off beyond all comprehension. Not just abandoned, but betrayed, too? I just kept yelling and yelling at him. I told him to absorb my soul, and let me do the work. I told him that we needed six souls. No more, no less. I never told him, however, that I was only going for six. To be honest, I also wanted revenge. Revenge against the humans who threw me away like trash.
Once he got back home, I asked him why he brought me back. He said it was because I deserved to be around people who loved me. When he said that, he made me snap out of it. He made me realize that my people are the monsters, and they'll accept me no matter what. My life was infinitely better with the Dreemurrs, but the worst part of all was I never realized it until it was too late. At that point, I hated myself. I got Asriel killed just because of some vendetta with humans? I can't believe I was actually that stupid. The only arguable good part was that I got to say my love for my brother one last time before we both died."
Asriel remembered the pain of getting killed by those humans of the past, and sulked. More monsters felt Chara's pain. Some started crying. Erica felt the urge to cry and howl. Soichiro broke down. No one wanted to hear anymore, but they needed to hear Chara say the truth.
"And then what happened?" Asked Asgore with his head tilted downward.
"You all know the scenario, I'm sure. After I died, again, I fell asleep for a long time. I just remained that way. I heard things like mom leaving dad, dad declaring war against the humans. I felt like it was all my fault. If I didn't take that first step to trying to give all you monsters freedom, then maybe things would have been different. Erica, maybe you wouldn't have had to resort to sneaking out with Frisk and Soichiro. In essence, I'm pretty sure I'm the reason as to why all of you had to suffer like that.
Anyway, many years later, I woke back up. I found out that a boy about my age before I died fell onto my grave. At first, I was so confused. I asked myself why I was awake. Our plan had failed, hadn't it? Asriel made sure of that, but I stopped holding it against him a long time ago. Then I found out that there was a talking flower. He went by the name of Flowey, and I had no idea that Flowey was actually Asriel. He ended up trying to kill the boy. You know, Frisk. He was so scared after that first 'friendliness pellet' struck him. But then mom stepped in the way. Didn't amount to much though; even after she told Frisk to try to resolve fights in a more peaceful manner, Frisk just kept striking things and people down. I could tell he was scared, but I kept trying to keep him from killing, and every single effort, especially with mom, was in vain. When he finally got to face mom, I just got desperate. I showed myself to him and madly begged him to let her live. He didn't wanna listen, and he killed mom.
At that point, I just lost it. I couldn't believe that he killed mom. It was like with my real mother all over again. I just broke down, and I couldn't dry my eyes no matter how hard I tried. The rest I'm certain you know."
"What about after Frisk did his reset, and after Asriel absorbed us while he was Flowey?"
"Well, hold on. You know about what happened with Papyrus and Sans, right? Well, all Frisk wanted was to atone. That's what caused the reset in the first place. Frisk touched a yellow star, and reality broke apart. Before we were separated from Sans and Papyrus, he vowed to make things right. Then everything went black.
After that, we went back to the flower bed. I was lying next to Frisk, who was still asleep. At first, we thought Frisk was dead, and I was just his imagination gone wild. But then we found out we just went back in time. We got a second chance, so that time we went through without laying a single finger on everyone, at least in a violent way.
Once we got to New Home, monsters started telling Frisk about Asriel and I. Long story short, we got fucked over. When Frisk found out what happened, he couldn't be mad at me at all. He was just sad. The others took notice and said he should be happy because he was gonna be free. But he and I knew why we weren't. We felt that...we would never be free if you guys weren't."
"Wow. So what you're saying is all you wanted was to free us all in the first place, but you think what happened was your fault?"
"Yeah. After Frisk loaded his save file, he faced you again, dad. But this time, you know what happened. Flowey took the souls, he got you and everyone else. But that wasn't as shocking as what I saw after. I've seen twists in movies before, but boy did Flowey turning into Asriel fuck me up. I was stunned. At first, I tried to call out to him. But then he became 'the absolute god of hyperdeath'. I was so happy he was back, but he wasn't thinking clearly. I thought we had to snap him out of it.
Suddenly, he used his full power, and pelted Frisk multiple times, only for Frisk to come back to life, feeling determined. I realized Frisk couldn't save himself anymore, but then I had an idea: have Frisk use his power to save others instead.
As I told him my idea, he used his remaining influence to free you all. Then he managed to get Asriel to snap out of it. But while Asriel was coming back, I was wondering why he went this far. Didn't know he cared more about me than everybody else. All he wanted was his best friend back, and I was right there, unable to speak with him. So he lashed out as hard as he could, but it wasn't enough to kill Frisk, especially since I stood in the way and took some of the damage for him. After that, Asriel just gave up and destroyed the barrier. As for the rest, I'm certain you all know."
Everyone else was stunned. This was why Chara was acting like that? She just felt guilty and blamed herself for things going the way they did? She shouldn't be doing this, everyone thought. She didn't care though. She knew what she did, and she refused to back away from whatever consequences betided her.
#undertale#frisk (undertale)#chara (undertale)#asriel dreemurr#toriel#temmie#asgore dreemurr#alphys#undyne#boss monster#monster#human#hybrid#temmie-frisk#erica chang#soichiro yasuhiro#frisk's parents#w.d. gaster#sorry for the long post#i'm trying to tell a story here#lost and found arc
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Perverse Normalcy: Weird Biases, Weirder Prejudices
This one's been a long time coming, I think.
This is a topic I've been thinking on... all my life, really. Why are humans so invested in tribalism, and so binary? Why are there so many, and such deep-rooted prejudices?
Have a read of my piece on fantasy racism before you get into this, if you haven't. It's recommended reading.
I wonder if this is a difficult headspace for anyoen to get into. All of my life, as a neurodiverse pserson, I've always had neurotypicals tell me that I lack empathy, perspective, Theory of Mind, and worse. That's fascinating, beacause from my perspective, I've never lacked any of these.
In the case of empathy, I had to withdraw from society because of how much it hurts when I get close to somone. The pain I feel when I accidentally hurt someone goes beyond anything a neurotypical can imagine. I know, I've asked. For them, it seems to be that they put their hand over their mouth, apologise, then it's forgotten.
For me, it's a lasting pain that might last years. It'll often recur when I'm being introspective, reminding me of each of my failures. I'll be racked with guilt, shame, and I'll suffer. This is the pathos of the neurodiverse person. Still, I'm told that I don't experience empathy. Isn't that odd?
And what I've found is that neurotypical researchers are incredibly invested in their own beliefs, these 'clever little ideas' of theirs that they cherish so much. Their mind babies, in a way. And if you were to dare challenge their perspective, it's a sleight against their babies, their creations. It's a little perverse, isn't it?
And it gets much more perverse from here, I promise you. This is going to go to some of the weirdest places... that up till now I hadn't dared to explore here, on the Internet. It nags at me, though. It gnaws. It's a knowing, an awareness, and this realisation? It wants to be shared. It wants to be known. So here I am.
I'm just the recepticle for this, really. I don't really have awareness, you see? Especially not self-awareness. I didn't arrive at this, it all sort of popped into my head one day. None of that's true, it's just a little bitter, sardonic humour regarding these interesting biases. Can you imagine what it's like to be told, to your face, that you lack self-awareness? Try.
My problem... I turned this back against my aggressors. That's on me, I feel like I'm more lucid now than ever and I recognise what I've been doing. In my hurt, my pain, and how much of my identity and character have been sacrificed to suit the unchecked egotism of stuffed shirts who think they know neurodiverse people better than they'd know themselves?
I turned it right back on them.
I found plenty of evidence to justify that neurotypical people could be every bit as shallow, as lacking in Theory of Mind, empathy, and worse. I found concerning connections between extraversion and sociopathy, that there was a lot of crossover there. And I wasn't saying this, I was just following the paper trail... So to speak.
I was reading all of these journals, these theses, and I had this cache of evidence that said that everything anyone could attribute to neurodiversity was also equally represented in neurotypicality. If not more so.
And I found evidence to refute the findings regarding neurodiverse people having a lack of empathy, of Theory of Mind, and I got caught up in this. I fell prey to the same tribalism. I believed in the hubris of people who believed they knew more about humanity than anyone else.
There is so, so much hubris.
I read a headline today that said that it was logically, mathematically impossible to stop aging, that aging was inevitable. Well, golly gee whillackers, I suppose we'd best pack our bags and stop trying to extend the human lifespan as these chaps have it all figured out. Except they don't. These findings will be refuted in a few months, and those again in another few months, this is the cycle.
The problem is hubris. That anyone believes absolutely in anything, that they stand by their cognitive biases and dissonance without faltering.
"If I think I discovered it, it's 100 per cent absolutely fact, true, and cannot be refuted."
I think this is a cancer that plagues science right now. I believe that this is why we're seeing so much 'bad science,' because there's this arrogance, this hubris, and this utter lack of humility. And worse, consider the process involved in getting a PhD... It encourages cut-throat sociopathy in much the same way as a corporate environment.
The PhD system in acadaemia is actively courting this attitude of arrogance and hubris. If you can bullshit hard enough to have someone believe you've discovered something entirely new, and you're charismatic enough to con them into believing it? Here's your PhD! Isn't that a deeply flawed system?
So, anyway, I had to pull back. I had to zoom out, I had to draw myself away from it all. I stopped reading the news, I put away the science journals that prided themselves on reporting hubris and misrepresented papers, and I simply withdrew. I encased myself in my shell so that I could process this.
I needed to parse it all without the influence of the Internet, of the rest of the world at large. I needed to find out where I was going wrong. What I wasn't understanding. I had to pull back. I didn't like what I found. I found that, as I've already mentioned, I had fallen prey to the same kinds of tribalism that I'd accused others of. I did this out of how hurt I'd felt, how much pain, and how much I'd had to suffer because of these people.
You see... It's as I said. I'm an invalid; I'm stupid; I have no empathy; I'm shallow; I lack Theory of Mind; I'm unstable; I have nothing to contribute to society. This is what the findings of people with so much hubris had to say about me, as a neurodiverse person. The immediate realisation is that by not investigating the people these claims were made of it, it showed the researchers lacked all the qualities that we were accused of lacking.
It just hits you, eventually. It's professional mocking.
This prejudice, you see, is so ingrained and so deeply set that even people who think of themselves as professionals are just bullies. They're mocking those who they see as beneath and below them. I see this in all walks of life, in day to day life. An example? I went for an eye test just yesterday, which involved retina photography.
As usual, I had trouble focusing on where the pinprick of light was, exactly. This is due to my astigmatism mixed with my underdeveloped optic nerves (neuro-optic dysplasia). When I told the optician this, he said that he could 'see my eyes moving, but I still was clearly not looking at the point of light.'
He'd assumed I'd said 'nystagmus' and didn't bother to verify. I could assume that he doesn't know the difference between astigmatism and nystagmus, but there's a far more likely reason for this to have happened. I exhibit the body language and appearance of a neurodiverse person. I'll wear shades in the winter due to photosensitivity, I habitually rock back and forth in seats, et cetera.
"If it quacks like a duck, and looks like a duck, then it's a duck."
"If it acts like a retard, and looks like a retard, it's a retard."
The problem is? This doesn't pan out at all. It really doesn't. I actually really despise that visual expression because it never actually applies to day to day life. Often, we base assumptions on how something should look and act, we then have false equivalencies between these. So if any aspect is wrong, anything built upon that is too.
The problem is is that the human mind isn't built to recognise that. It's built to find patterns, to be tribal, to like certain patterns and innately dislike others. Which means that over the course of human evolution, we've become exceptionally good at hurting one another. It's our special gift. In fact, we're so self-absorbed with how much we desire to hurt others that we don't realise that...
Hey, we're actually hurting others.
That something has hurt doesn't mean that it's right to spread the pathos around, right? This is interesting as it has so many layers. I see biases and prejudices everywhere, I wish I hadn't come to this level of awareness because it's Pandora's Box. Once the lid is open, you can't close it again, and you're going to see things laid bare that you'll really wish you hadn't.
And it all seems to stem from a certain point. A flaw. An innate flaw. Perfection. Normalcy. It's really perverse when you think about it, isn't this the most depraved aspect of our species? It all goes back, here.
It all flows from and to perfection.
Do you have an ideal of perfection? And do you denigrate that which is further away from it as lesser, as less real, and worse, less sapient than yourself for being closer to it? Well, here's the truth: That's every human alive. This is just so hard-wired into us that we can't stop it, and it's this cancer that's rotting us.
It's the rotten core of everything wrong with us.
Just consider it.
Why is it important to be white, straight, healthy, thin, beautiful, middle- to upper-class, to have a family, to be monogamous, to be the definition of neurotypical?
You could give a lot of reasons and I'm sure you wouldn't stop to examine even one of them. The truth is? They're all bullshit. We keep telling ourselves that diversity is so very important, but deep down we're rotting away because we're all inflicted with this sickness of normalcy, of some ideal of perfection. Of superiority. Of the ideal.
It's easy to look at the biggest group, because they're the biggest group. That's why their sickness is so prominent. If the largest group is white, straight, healthy, moderately good looking, middle- to upper-class? Or if they're the people with the power to turn their opinions into a very unfortunate reality for other people? Then they'll be noticed. That's the way it is.
The biggest ripples you make, the more lives you ruin.
Can I take this to a really fucking weird place? I like furry hypnosis porn. Shrug. Okay, now that I've said that, I want to talk about why it's relevant. In almost every piece of it I look at that deals with an anthro (closer to the human form), and a feral? In almost every case, nine times out of ten, the bipedal and human-like anthro will be shown dominating the feral.
It can't be about the fun side of hypnosis, of course. There is, I feel, a lot of potential there. Altered mind states, aiding with the opening of one's mind to new perspectives, and yes, perhaps even sometimes allowing someone else to take the reins. It doesn't need to be taken though with this huge shown of dominant force, does it? Still, that part is less important.
The part that's more important? So important? Those who like anthro characters perceive that choice as being closer to an ideal, so feral characters are innately inferior. The more feral a character is, the more inferior they must naturally be. And if a type of feral dares to challenge this perception by being seen as powerful (see: Dragons), then those ferals will be one of the primary targets.
The stranger you get, the more you'll notice these things. The more odd, the more weird, the more peculiar you are the more it all stands out. And as this happens, as your perspective broadens, your mind opens, and it all just sort of widens out before you? It just starts to twig. This is everywhere. This sickness.
This ideal state of 'perfection.' This depraved normality.
How often are you influenced by what you view as ideal? You should keep a tally, and once you start doing so it will scare you. I'm sorry. Awareness doesn't ever come easy. I don't like that I have this burden to bear, frankly. I don't enjoy it. I wish I could be blissfully ignorant and blame my problems all on one person or group. I can't. I know now that I can't do that any more. I can't.
I want to. I want to lash out at neurotypicals for having so much hatred of my neurodiversity. I want to lash out at trans people for having so much hatred of my non-gender related bodily dysmorphia. I want to lash out at so many people for being pricks for judging, denigrating, belittling, and dehumanising myself and others for not fitting a perverted, depraved ideal of normalcy.
And everyone is trying to be more normal. It's like a black hole that everyone gravitates toward. As I said, the biggest and the most powerful group? They have the most draw, so they corrupt the most with their hatred of anything which exists outside of their status quo. So gays try to be straight gays, feminists become TERFs, trans people turn against those who have non-gender related dysmorphic disorders and it goes on and on and on...
Why?
I guess it really is because we're hard-wired to be this way. I worry it's going to be a few centuries before we even begin to educate children about this natural bias toward one's own ideal 'perfection' and how that's toxic to all others. How that can hurt. I don't know if we're ever going to be teaching them that the reason that Nazi Germany even happened is because they had their own ideal -- the Aryan ideology of the perfect human being -- which corrupted them so much that they commited some of the most atrocious acts in human history.
If a son has an ideal of perfection and his father is far enough away from that, would he chase down his father and beat him to death? Yes. I read a news article just the other day about how an Alt-Right person did just that. All his father did was have a dissenting opinion, but that discounted his right to be seen as a sapient, thinking, feeling person by his own son. How awful is that?
I just want to know: Why do we have to be this way?
Why?
What purpose does it serve our species to actually continue in this manner? This binary tribalism, it has to stop, it really needs to end. I think we have to fight it, we have to resist this urge to move forward and become something more than we are today.
As it is, right now? I feel like we're still in a dark age. A different kind of dark age than the one most are familiar with, but one that's going to be seen historically as a dark age nonetheless. This is the dark age of perfection, of hatred, of bias, of dissonance, and prejudice.
I don't know that we can stop this that easily. I think we need to try educating our children about this, with every new generation. We have to show them how this hurts people, how badly it affects them. If a person commits suicide over gender dysmorphia, and the Internet makes fun of them, what makes that okay?
Why can't we stop being monsters? Why is there so, so much hatred? Why is there so little awareness of this as a problem? Why do I feel that I'm one of the few people alive who even sees and recognises this as an issue that we, as a species, need to confront? I don't want to bear the burden of knowing this, but also knowing that there's nothing I'm able to do about it. That I'm powerless to stop it.
I'd also like to apologise. In chasing perfection, I've likely hurt a lot of people. The ideal of perfection I had was, in a way, my shield against the forms of perfection that others had. I can't continue to exist that way any more. It isn't right. It isn't just. I think my biggest problem is is that now I'm kind of lost, I really don't know where to go next.
I feel I've hit a plateau. This is the top. I get it, now. What now? What do I do? I got here, but I have no power to affect any change to stop this from happening.
What do I do now?
I can be accused of many, many things, but hubris hasn't ever been one that'd stick. I doubt myself too much for that to ever be true. I even doubt myself now, that perhaps this is just another gate of bias that I can't see past. If that's true then nothing makes sense any more. I don't think it is, though. I don't think it is.
The reason this is different than anywhere else I've been throughout the course of my life? This isn't binary. This isn't me saying that extraverts are responsible, that I blame the neurotypicals. This is me saying that this is a problem that we, collectively, as a species suffer with. That includes myself and everyone else. We all do this. All of us.
We all have our ideal, our status quo, our beloved Zeitgeist, and it's hard to look past that. Anything which deviates from that too much is monstrous, evil, inhuman...
I don't want to be a fence-sitter, but we all do this. Yes, some are worse than others because they're more violent. I just think this, though, is nothing more than toxic ideals being weaponised by certain charismatic individuals to an end, to reach a goal. They encourage this violence, this hatred. They foster and groom it.
I think that some kinds of minds are just more open to being groomed than others. What kinds of minds? I don't know! I really don't. They might be any kind. Extraverted, or introverted. Intellectual, or poorly educated. Neurotypical, or autistic. I guess this can come from anywhere. If I can believe that neurodiverse Alt-Right people exist... I've certainly no choice but to accept this.
I don't know that Alt-Right people are evil, just that they're being harvested because they're harvestable. I think that some kinds of minds are just innately more harvestable for horrible, heinous acts than others. I read a study that says that morals are turned off for people who act in groups or mobs, I kind of believe that. I just don't know what kinds of minds are responsible for this, any more.
All I can do is track it back.
And when I track it back, it all goes back to normalcy, to perfection, to ideals. And then the opposite of normalcy, of perfection, and of ideals. What happens then? What happens when you expose a mind that has a heightened obsession with an ideal of normalistic perfection, and a person which is the exact opposite of that?
I hate to Godwin too much but... Nazi Germany is one example, isn't it? Is that unfair? I don't think it is.
When we're talking about the Alt-Right, after all, I often hear people saying 'well, if you see a Nazi, say Nazi' when referring to them. It isn't because they have the culture, necessarily, but because they're showing the same kinds of behavioural patterns. A peoples who believe they've got some ideal of perfection all their own, exposed to that which is the exact opposite of that perfection.
This sparks hatred.
I think the most telling example of this really is Laci Green. My mind keeps coming back to her, you know? In her earlier days she was more inclusionary, she believed in greater equality, and so on. And yet, eventually, her own ideals of perfection got the best of her. She couldn't hide the repugnance she felt for those who embodied the antithesis of her perfection any more.
So Laci goes on to spout opinions which fit in with TERFs. Then she jumps ship to the Alt-Right. The Alt-Right is a very inviting environment for this kind of attitude where one can have a toxic ideal of perfection, of normalcy, and they can be encouraged and groomed to feel hatred toward anything which is opposed to that.
I think this is what always gets us in the end. Our own ideal of perfection, that denigrates other human beings as less. And some minds... some just fit that bill more easily. I'd say they have less self-awareness, less empathy, and less introspection, as those qualities tend to eventually serve as a counter to these ideals of perfection. No matter how thick-headed and stubborn a person is (i.e., me).
I can't say what kinds of brains lack those qualities any more, though. If I were to say that it's neurotypicals, or any other kind of person? I'd be no different than the smug, mocking 'professionals' who, through their toxic ideals of perfection and hubris, belittle neurodiverse people.
So this is where I'm at right now. This is where I'm at.
Fuck perfection, and fuck normalcy. We can all have ideals but those ideals don't need to belittle or lesser any other person.
I want to learn about your ideals and value them.
I hope you all can one day feel the same way.
For those that do, or are starting to? Thank you.
Nah. This doesn't mean I'm better. Haha. I lack too much self-esteem for that. I'm a useless sack of shit. If I were actually smart, I'd have figured this all out already.
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Why Does Your Prescription Change So Often?
Good question! If glasses improved your eyesight your prescription should get lower over time, right? Then it'd make sense. You'd just get weaker and weaker glasses until they are gone... but when did that ever happen to you..? Exactly! So, why do they get stronger over time? Because optometrists regularly overprescribe... meaning you get glasses that are too strong. That's why you get the headaches with new glasses for 2 or 3 days... Your eyes just get used to the too strong glasses... So, why do you get glasses that are too strong? What most people fail to realize is that your eyesight is dynamic. It changes constantly throughout the day! You may have -2 (or +2, or a certain IOP, whatever... it all comes down to the same thing) in the morning. Then mid-morning have a really strong coffee with a lot of sugar and milk... So for 30 minutes your eyesight will be great. It'll be sharp. You'll feel great. You'll see crystal clear... so it'd be around -1 (+1, etc...) Then the sugar crash sets in... the caffeine wears off... and slowly your eyesight gets worse again... Back to -2... and then the liver has to deal with the sugar and milk... meaning, your eyes get less energy than they should... and now you are down to -3! (The numbers are arbitrary examples to illustrate the point. The same fluctuation happens with plus-glasses, eye pressure, astigmatism, eyestrain, floaters, etc) So, if you come to your eye test after the sugar crash, you'd get way too strong glasses this time around! There are many factors that influence your test:
anxiety during the test (that you could get stronger glasses... the self-fulfilling prophecy)
what you ate
the eye drops making you nervous
you feel pressure to get the test right
a shitty night... lol
fight with your spouse /boss/friend/coworker
stress
... etc There are so many factors... I think you get the point! The Science A study was done with 20,000 school kids... they tested their eyesight multiple times throughout the day... and what they discovered is amazing:
all kids had perfect vision for some time throughout the day
NO child had perfect vision all day long!
But every child was different... because every person is different! You react to bread and bananas differently than I do... your digestive systems behaves differently than mine... depending on that, the test will change! You and I cope with stress differently... so both of us can get affected during the eye test depending on our make-up... It's not that you are right and I am wrong... or the other way around... but what IS wrong, is to judge the strength of your glasses on a momentary picture of your day... Coupled with a totally unnaturally scenario to test your eyes... Come one, you never drop stuff in your eyes to make the blurry... then look with one eye at a time into total darkness... to read letters of a font-size smaller than the smallest size available on your computer... You never use your eyes like that in real life! Ever... And that's why your prescription changes so often... The most accurate measurement would be to test your eyes with a 20/20 vision test in daylight throughout the day multiple times... take the average, and there you go! That would be the closest to an honest evaluation. But your prescription would stay pretty consistent... and you wouldn't buy as many glasses... so the test machines make really good money for the "experts"... The thing is... You Can Turn This Around! With the right system, you can reduce your strength and get weaker and weaker glasses... until your glasses are gone! It's not fantasy, it's what we help our clients do each and every day... it's the Pure Vision Method™... If you have an eye test anytime soon, do this:
eat very light and healthy (salads and light snacks) all day before the test
drink loads of high-quality spring water from a glass bottle
have a strong coffee just before the test starts ;)
=> that way they won't overprescribe you... :) Stay tuned for tomorrow's bag of tricks! How did you like today's lesson? Was it useful? Just leave a comment, give me feedback, and let me know what your questions are!
The post Why Does Your Prescription Change So Often? Read more on: https://www.PureVisionMethod.com
I just posted this here: @ #PureVisionMethod - because #EyesightMatters
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Text
Why Does Your Prescription Change So Often?
Good question! If glasses improved your eyesight your prescription should get lower over time, right? Then it'd make sense. You'd just get weaker and weaker glasses until they are gone... but when did that ever happen to you..? Exactly! So, why do they get stronger over time? Because optometrists regularly overprescribe... meaning you get glasses that are too strong. That's why you get the headaches with new glasses for 2 or 3 days... Your eyes just get used to the too strong glasses... So, why do you get glasses that are too strong? What most people fail to realize is that your eyesight is dynamic. It changes constantly throughout the day! You may have -2 (or +2, or a certain IOP, whatever... it all comes down to the same thing) in the morning. Then mid-morning have a really strong coffee with a lot of sugar and milk... So for 30 minutes your eyesight will be great. It'll be sharp. You'll feel great. You'll see crystal clear... so it'd be around -1 (+1, etc...) Then the sugar crash sets in... the caffeine wears off... and slowly your eyesight gets worse again... Back to -2... and then the liver has to deal with the sugar and milk... meaning, your eyes get less energy than they should... and now you are down to -3! (The numbers are arbitrary examples to illustrate the point. The same fluctuation happens with plus-glasses, eye pressure, astigmatism, eyestrain, floaters, etc) So, if you come to your eye test after the sugar crash, you'd get way too strong glasses this time around! There are many factors that influence your test:
anxiety during the test (that you could get stronger glasses... the self-fulfilling prophecy)
what you ate
the eye drops making you nervous
you feel pressure to get the test right
a shitty night... lol
fight with your spouse /boss/friend/coworker
stress
... etc There are so many factors... I think you get the point! The Science A study was done with 20,000 school kids... they tested their eyesight multiple times throughout the day... and what they discovered is amazing:
all kids had perfect vision for some time throughout the day
NO child had perfect vision all day long!
But every child was different... because every person is different! You react to bread and bananas differently than I do... your digestive systems behaves differently than mine... depending on that, the test will change! You and I cope with stress differently... so both of us can get affected during the eye test depending on our make-up... It's not that you are right and I am wrong... or the other way around... but what IS wrong, is to judge the strength of your glasses on a momentary picture of your day... Coupled with a totally unnaturally scenario to test your eyes... Come one, you never drop stuff in your eyes to make the blurry... then look with one eye at a time into total darkness... to read letters of a font-size smaller than the smallest size available on your computer... You never use your eyes like that in real life! Ever... And that's why your prescription changes so often... The most accurate measurement would be to test your eyes with a 20/20 vision test in daylight throughout the day multiple times... take the average, and there you go! That would be the closest to an honest evaluation. But your prescription would stay pretty consistent... and you wouldn't buy as many glasses... so the test machines make really good money for the "experts"... The thing is... You Can Turn This Around! With the right system, you can reduce your strength and get weaker and weaker glasses... until your glasses are gone! It's not fantasy, it's what we help our clients do each and every day... it's the Pure Vision Method™... If you have an eye test anytime soon, do this:
eat very light and healthy (salads and light snacks) all day before the test
drink loads of high-quality spring water from a glass bottle
have a strong coffee just before the test starts ;)
=> that way they won't overprescribe you... :) Stay tuned for tomorrow's bag of tricks! How did you like today's lesson? Was it useful? Just leave a comment, give me feedback, and let me know what your questions are!
Why Does Your Prescription Change So Often? Find more on: www.purevisionmethod.com
Posted by: @ #PureVisionMethod - because #EyesightMatters
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Text
The Tragic Past of a Megalomaniac (ゴッドモードアーク (Goddomodoaku)) (God-mode Arc)
The pain of the amalgamate invading his body and his brain was so extreme, Frisk simply screamed continuously. He couldn't stop himself. His tears flowed like water as he fell unconscious with his eyes open, and was thrown back into his mindscape. Frisk was scared and confused. He couldn't stay still. He desperately clawed around for a way out, trying to wake himself up. He was in a room of pure white, and he couldn't force a way out of the place. "Whatever you're trying to do, it's not going to work." Talrok said, fading into the room. "You. What the fuck did you do, y-" Frisk was stopped by a barrier Talrok erected before Frisk could get to his face. "Please be quiet. I brought you here so we could talk. In private. Alone." Frisk's anger skyrocketed. "Calm down, already. We're not going anywhere unless I get to speak to you." Frisk couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was stuck in his mindscape unless he gave up. Frisk simply sat down and yielded to Talrok's demands. "Fine. You wanna talk? Let's talk." "Thank you. I knew I could speak to you about this. Now, what one of your friends said to me seems to mean that you guys believe you know my plan. Now I bet you want to know what drove me to this." "No, but I don't have anything better to do anymore, so you might as well say it. Why are you like this?" "It started when I was about 19 years old. I was experimenting on new sources of power. I was trying to make, or at least discover, a new, alternative energy source. I was working with a monster that didn't get trapped underground. Their name was Leo. They were a kind, cat-like monster. They were my best friend. We went through many types of experiments together. Until one day, they made something that would extract something they and the monsters called 'determination'. They were planning on finding a human body, taking it, and extracting the determination from it. They ran off excitedly, when suddenly, I accidentally pressed the button, and the nozzle sucked them up, and placed them onto the extraction table. I tried desperately to stop the machine from taking my best friend away from me, but no matter what I did, the machine ended up taking every last ounce of magic out of Leo." Talrok started to tear up. "Leo told me one last thing before they disappeared forever: 'don't stop our research. Keep moving forward, no matter the cost. Even if everyone has to die.' I promised my friend I would keep learning about magic and determination, so I did. I discovered a species called magicians. They were humans that could use magic. I wondered what would happen if I injected magic within me. Would I be able to use it, or would nothing happen? It was the biggest mistake I had ever made. When I injected Leo's magic within me, it wasn't just an experiment. It was a way to keep the memory of my dearest friend next to my heart, which is actually exactly where I intended to inject myself. I never knew exactly where my soul was, but for some reason, my soul took the hit instead. It absorbed Leo's magic, and my entire body writhed about in pain. I was seizing up as the magic flowed through my very soul. Then, their memories flooded my mind. Every last one, from start to finish. I found out that Leo didn't just think of me as a friend. They were in love with me. I never once knew I would feel the same way until after they died. I was heartbroken; my best friend and I were in love with each other, and we couldn't even tell each other until it was too late. After the pain subsided, I cried as I just laid down, wanting to die. I cried for hours, mourning the loss of the one I loved. I would never see them again, hear them again, be with them again." Talrok broke out in tears. "It was the worst day of my life. I couldn't bring myself to keep going, so I tried to jump off of a cliff. But as I lept, I started floating above the watery abyss. I didn't realize it until I heard a gull calling out to me. I was startled. I didn't know what was happening, so I screamed as I tried to make my way back to the shoreline. When I got back, I was thoroughly traumatized. I couldn't believe I was floating. At first, I couldn't make sense of it. I asked myself why I was floating. Then I remembered the experiment I did. I ran back to my lab as fast as I could. When I got back, I looked at my research as thoroughly as possible. Then I found a paper wrote about the possible effects of magic on the human soul. We hypothesized that humans couldn't take massive amounts of magic, or they would die. We also alternatively suggested that if by any statistically minute chance a human were to survive having an extreme amount of magic injected into their soul, the experience would be so intense and painful that the soul itself would adapt by instead becoming a vessel for more souls, which in turn would cause its owner to lose their humanity while being unable to become a monster as well, making them a hybrid species. However, I also believed that the only way for a human soul to adapt in such a manner would be if the soul was actually that of a magician, but I couldn't find even a single trace of evidence that I may have been born a magician. I called this way of unity between human and monster a 'perfect hybrid'. For years, I thought I would be the only one to claim such a title. But then one day, the monsters left the mountain. I was curious as to how or why they were all leaving until I remembered the prophecy that was put in place by the magicians of the past: one day, an angel will descend from the surface, and they will make the underground go empty. I originally thought it meant the monsters would become extinct, but you proved the exact opposite. Instead of killing the monsters, you set them free. So then, I went back to my lab, and read the book pertaining to what happened in the war. I read it from start to finish over and over until I noticed a page that was somehow stuck to another, initially preventing me from reading it. After some effort, I found that the prophecy involving the monsters' freedom was not the only prediction those wizards created. They created a prophecy involving the world's fate as well. That one said that two beings that are both monster and human born will cleanse their species of their sins of the past. I thought that simply meant they would kill everyone. Then I looked further, and noticed something strange. A picture of a boy with the appearance of a temmie, and a picture of a girl that bore resemblance to an astigmatism. Their names were also unsettling to me. Both of their names were neutral in gender, yet seemingly opposite in nature. The boy peaceful, and the girl violent. We both know who fills those roles." "Chara and I. But the thing is we're both pretty violent." "Yes. The names that I saw were in fact Frisk and Chara, respectively. At first, I was terrified. I couldn't believe that two children would be in charge of the fate of the world. It would rest in their hands. I decided to make it so neither you nor Chara would have to decide the fate of this world by turning every last human into monsters. That way, you could be with the people you were born with, the people you both relate to most. The prophecy spoke of both children receiving neglect and abuse from humans, so I figured if humans were the problem, I'll simply make them all go away by turning them all into monsters! Then I could make it so they wouldn't want to destroy anything if they were around monsters that actually like being around them. Don't you get it? What I did to you and Chara, what I'm doing right now. I'm not just doing it for you, I'm doing it because of you. I wanted you both to be around people who will accept you for who you are, and not what you look like. Do you know how rare it is for the sun to shine on something new? How rare it is for a human to actually embrace what's different? To embrace change? To embrace monsterkind? Frisk, you have power over the monsters, and yet you choose to do nothing with it. You converse with the humans to integrate the monsters back into their society. That is your power: unity. You've got to use that power to help me bring my plan to fruition. You've got to use that power to help me show people the truth about monster-human relations. Humans were never meant to have dominance over monsters; it was supposed to be the exact opposite. Humans are disgusting, insensitive, ignorant, cruel and dangerous. Monsters, however, are kind, gentle, accepting, patient and understanding. The way of the monsters are what humanity should aspire to be, and all they do is toxify their home and their people." "Monsters aren't innocent either. Some of them act geniunely hostile towards humans, which makes it harder on me. Others only act like it because they're scared of what humans will do to them." "They have every right to be scared! Humans have went unchanged for millennia when it comes to attitude, so of course they would put themselves above all others species! They do this because they believe humanity is the apex of creation. They are wrong. With your support, I can teach everyone the truth." "What 'truth' could you possibly teach them?" "Come with me, and I'll show you." Frisk followed Talrok in the mindscape, who led him to a dark area. Then Talrok showed him something: a mirror. "Do you see this right there, Frisk?" He said. "Yeah. What about it?" "What about it? What about it?! This mirror right here can show you your greatest desires. It's said that the happiest man in the world would only see his reflection because he will already have his greatest desires. As for you, Frisk, can you safely say you're the happiest man in the world?" "No I can't, and guess who I have to blame for it?" "Ah, I see. Look into the mirror, and you'll see your greatest desire." Frisk begrudgingly followed Talrok's orders, and then he started seeing visions. Frisk really was seeing what he desired most of all. What he yearned for most...was a normal life. He wanted to be like everybody else. He wanted to be with his parents again. He wanted them to go with him as he went to school. He wanted them to just be there for him. He even wanted them to see him on his wedding day. Frisk imagined himself at the altar, wedding bells chiming, beautious white petals fluttering in the wind, welcoming a brand-new relationship into the world. "Oh..my God. I...I can see it. Me, just like everybody else." Frisk started crying. "I just wanted to be normal...to be ordinary. I didn't ask to be like this." Then the mindscape went blank as Frisk regained consciousness in the real world. Frisk cried for real this time. He let out a loud wail of misery and woe, unable to handle the pain anymore. Talrok instructed the amalgamate to let go of him, which it did by taking itself off of Frisk. Frisk simply fell onto his knees, sobbing. "I just...want to be normal. I just want everything to go back to the way it was. I want to be human again." Talrok came to him to give him comfort, confirming that due to Frisk's emotions being fragile, his spell worked perfectly. "There, there, Frisk." Talrok said, giving the poor temmie a shoulder to cry on. "It's not your fault you're like this. You were born this way. All I did was tell you the truth. You did nothing wrong." Frisk didn't know it, but he was under Talrok's control now. He was a mindslave to the mad scientist. "Listen to me, Frisk. I know you've had some nasty twists and turns, and I know you don't want this power, but it's okay. With a little help, I'm certain you can mold your abilities into whatever you want them to be. And Rhonda and I will support you every step of the way." Talrok let out a devious smile while he looked Frisk in the eyes. "Now do you understand? What I showed you, your greatest desire, I want to help you achieve it. I want to help you live in a world where everyone is like you, and accepts you. A world where no one would EVER judge you for your looks." Frisk started drying his tears. "Okay. Fine. If you can't fix this...then would you please show me how to control it?" "Thank you. I'll show you, but first, lie down and hold still. If you feel something, don't react at all." Talrok had the amalgamate from earlier infest Frisk again, only this time, it got to Frisk's soul. The magic and determination in Frisk's body reacted to the amalgamate so much, Frisk was in a trance. Talrok could make him do whatever he wanted. "Well? Do you like what you're feeling right now, Frisk?" "Whatever this is, it feels great. My entire body feels amazing. And my mind. My goodness. Talrok, I...I get it now." "I see. Now that you know what it acceptance feels like, everything should become clear to you." "Humanity exists...to serve monsterkind. Isn't that right?" "Yes, it is. Now, let's make you look more...distinguished." The amalgamate went inside Frisk's body and changed it inside and out. Now Frisk had a constant supply of magic and determination, and he had some (admittedly) snazzy clothes to boot. "Now, Frisk, you look so much better! No more of the humble appearance. Now you look fit for a king! I'm so proud of you!" "Thanks!" Talrok succeeded. He got Frisk on his side. That's what he intended. Suddenly, Noah burst through a door, looking for Talrok. "Talrok, Chara and her people are coming to look for Frisk." "Chara's coming?" Frisk croaked. "Yes. But not today. Tomorrow. She'll be looking for Frisk." "That fucking bitch." "Why don't you take care of her, 'son'?" Talrok said warmly. "You got it...'dad'." Frisk then pulled Rhonda toward his face. "Oh, don't tell me you're still upset with me." Frisk gave her a kiss on the cheek and hugged her. "Mom, I'm sorry for my behavior. I won't make that mistake again. That I can promise." Rhonda felt flattered by what she was hearing. "It's okay. Now come with us, hun. Mommy and daddy are going to teach you how to use your magic." "Yes, mom." Frisk was completely under their control. He couldn't fight back, no matter how much he wanted to. He was going to become a living weapon disguised as a puppet. He seemed doomed to remain that way.
#Undertale#Frisk (undertale)#Talrok#Rhonda#Noah#sorry for the long post#I'm trying to tell a story here#God-mode Arc#Goddomodoaku
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