#was quite entitled sounding wasnt it.

[sangfielle]

-

it literally is annoying. though. dont comment some dumb bullshit on my writing if you dont have anything to say. if someone did this to me i would close the comments on my fics im serious

[fantastic-wizards]

It usually took a lot to make Albus angry. After all, unlike many of his other coworkers, he wasn't always so serious. Stubborn? Oh absolutely, but more carefree than many others he had come to know. Still, between the frustrations associated with high expectations and everyone pulling him in vastly different directions, it was reaching a head tonight and it didn't help that Corvinus was pushing buttons that were not his to press.

"With all due respect, professor, your suggestions and advice has been noted, but I fear you are overstepping your place a great deal," he responded quite calmly and in a tone reminescent of those he used in the past. The anger still boiled beneath the surface, but in the midst of his anger, he was also self aware enough to understand that professor Corvinus meant well. His intentions were good at best, but even good intentions can come off the wrong way. Right now, Albus felt as if he was being pushed into something he wasnt' open to doing --- not now or ever at this rate. Trusting Corvinus even a little may have been a mistake if this was going to be the result from this stage on.

"Bold of you to assume that I have no friends, professor. I may not mingle much within these walls but I assure you I have good friends." Which was the truth. Gellert had his fair share as well with many being higher ups, but Albus was towing the line here. He had his reasons, but he couldn't expect someone who barely knew him to understand how he worked. Even now as they spoke, some of Albus' friends were out running errands. An all important election was coming up and Albus intended to be there one way or another.

Blue eyes stared at Corvinus in disbelief, brows arched as he took in that signature Slytherin audacity. And yes, audacity was definitely the word here because it almost sounded like the Slytherin was giving him permission to do something he could do anyway as a fully grown man. '…you're entitled to take time to yourself...' It took everything within Albus not to react too harshly, but with each word spoken, Corvinus was crossing even more lines. A few brief conversations over drinks did not entitle either of them to the other's personal issues no matter how much had been shared already.

"Professor Corvinus, I don't intend to have this conversation with you again --- and I won't." And there was a certain finality to his tone that suggested to braoch the topic would have ill results in the future. For now though, Albus straightened his back, hand on the doorknob as if preparing to leave for real this time. "Your friends might allow you to push them around, lord yourself over them with your arrogance and 'i know so much better than you' attitude, but I am not one for being chastized like one of your friends or even your students."

Albus pushed open the door. "As I said before, I will think about it. Goodnight, professor."

ALBUS  |  fantastic-wizards

Albus remained silent taking in Corvinus’ words. Indeed if things grew evermore restless across the pond, taking the cuffs off might be in the Ministry’s best interest. After all, it was Travers who had made it perfectly clear that he was terrified of Gellert. Only ‘Albus’ could put an end to him so Corvinus wasn’t wrong. It was only a matter of time before they saw reason, but that didn’t take the sting away from being humiliated earlier. And while Albus was cleared to travel, there were other reasons for Albus’ hesitation to follow Corvinus all the way to Ireland. These brief meetings here at school were awkward enough. He had to wonder if things would be worse at Corvinus’ home with no place to run. He was not a fan of the idea — at all. Having an exit strategy was how he got by most days.

“Let me think about it.”

And he would. He would take some time to mull over the offer because eventually, he would need to seriously consider other avenues for destroying the troth. Knowing Gellert, he already found a way to break the spell but in true, Gellert like fashion, it wasn’t information he was going to volunteer. There was no way in hell Gellert was going to volunteer information about his only defense against his only known equal. So Albus was left to comb through history on his own and hope to find a soluteion before the true revolution began.

That aside, Albus found himself growing ever more aggravated by this conversation as it carried on. In fact, blue eyes turned to Corvinus, looking at him quite differently now. “What does my power have to do with anything?” he questioned, frustration growing with each passing second. “My power has been greatly exaggerated over the years, but even if that wasn’t the case, my power shouldn’t matter. This is a personal matter. I would like to think anyone in my shoes would feel the need to recover after the events of today. There is nothing wrong with needing some alone time.”

And he was trying — trying so desperately not to get angry. Corvinus meant well, or at least he appeared so, but well intentions or not, he was treading territory that wasn’t his to tread on at all. If they were friends ( and he honestly had no idea what to label them at this point ), then he should have understood the need to be alone. Albus didn’t owe anyone his true self and neither did Corvinus.

“Yes, yes, of course you have! You have done well to keep my secrets and it’s not like I’m out advertising your own personal matters, but..” He swallowed the anger, speaking calmly. “Not… everyone handles conflict the same, Corvinus. Some people look to surround themselves with good friends while others retreat. I am the latter. I withdraw, ponder, play chess, move the pieces alone until I figure things out. I'm… sorry if that gives you whiplash, but if its too off putting, you know the solution then.”

And while he didn’t say it out loud, he was sure the implication was there all the same. Corvinus could stop trying; they could pretend they were never getting close in the first place. In all honesty, that’s probably what Albus needed; probably what he was hoping for deep down because at the very least, he could avoid another mistake. But then Corvinus spoke once again of power and the cost of it, drawing the wizard’s ire straight from his gut. Blue eyes flashed like daggers in anger and it was one of the few times Corvinus saw something of a spark within the wizard akin to the one that often made Gellert proud.

“I don’t care about power anymore!” he snapped. “I don’t— that’s ALL Gellert used to ramble on about. My power… And how he could feel it hum when we were together. I don’t–I wish everyone would stop putting me on a goddamned pedestal! I am just ONE man.” The candles flickered, going out briefly and then returned just as quickly. He sucked in air briefly before responding in a tone that was very much unlike the others before. He was shaking, but more so this time out of fear of letting his anger consume him.

“I am not playing games with you, Corvinus. You act like we’re something more than two miserable teachers hiding behind masks we’ve carefully crafted for our audience, but we’re not. I would like to be friends, but I don’t know what you expect of me. Perhaps it would be better if you stop having expectations. That way you won’t be disappointed in the future.”

He turned away, this time with the intent to leave regardless of Corvinus’ words. “I don’t need you to give a damn any more than you already have today. I’m FINE. Now let it alone.” He pulled open the door. “I’m getting a bath and going to bed. Don’t wait up.”

Well that was certainly a new side he hadn’t seen before. Anger Irritation. It momentarily took Salazar aback as gone were the cordial niceties for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he enjoyed seeing this new side, something even the Ministry apparently hadn’t even seen, or hated it as it was being thrown at him for all the WRONG reasons. It was the stress of it all, Salazar knew it. The strain placed on one’s shoulders until they felt like they might crumble under it. It was a position Salazar was all too familiar with. Meant to be the PERFECT and ideal wizard but he had had his faults. It was probably the one good thing about walking away from his position as a founder: he was not placed on a pedestal like they were. The world saw them as infallible as if they had ever really KNOWN them. 

He took note of the flicker of the candles, gaze briefly glancing to them before back to Albus. He could feel his jaw clench from the TENSION in the room. This wasn’t like before, their talks where it might linger in the silence. Salazar could feel his own irritation boiling over and threatening to REACT with his magic though he subdued it. Now wasn’t the time to show them off, now wasn’t the time to allow the magic to move freely as he so often did. Not all arguments required a show of his own power and Salazar knew that. Even if he did feel Albus was being the fool.

❝  It doesn’t matter if you care about power or not because that is all the rest of the world cares about! That is why I am suggesting perhaps you make a few friends in your corner to help shoulder the burden but you would prefer to face the issues ALONE! Have you ever stopped to consider that many ‘greats’ of each era often had many allies and friends? When the world views you as one way, a solution to all their problems, then you should find others who don’t see you as that.  ❞  Call it his own ARROGANCE but he had yet to see any true power from the wizard and after their conversations, that was hardly what drew him in any longer. No, it was the man behind that.

Salazar Slytherin would have been NOTHING without the other founders as loathed as he liked to admit that. Perhaps he would have made a name of his own in his SLAUGHTERS but nothing as grand as Hogwarts. He had found them in one way or another and they had found him. Hiding away, hiding one’s own problems, that had been what led to their great fall and tore them apart. It was the separation and the seclusion that had destroyed the bonds they had made and Salazar’s desire to go it alone. But without them, he hardly would have grown into the wizard he had been back then and continued to become. He could have merely been some Herpo the Foul, a dark wizard with only vague things attributed to him rather than helping to create a legacy that still lived on long after he was thought to have died.

Perhaps he should have let the subject die altogether. Let Albus make his escape and carry on like every other professors while both dealing with their own hardships. It was the easier option but Salazar had never been one for the EASY way.  ❝  Of course you’re entitled to take time to yourself, I certainly did but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about making an excuse to rush off, acting as though we don’t even have these conversations. As I said, You can’t hide away forever.  ❞  He had a point to make and he would let it be heard even if it did anger Albus. It was hardly the first time someone had become upset with him and he doubted the last; it was quite the effect he could have on others it seemed. Running away simply wouldn’t do anyone any good.

Especially not now when all eyes would be on Albus REGARDLESS of what excuse he or Salazar might conjure up. The ministry had apparently already sank their teeth in and had no intention of letting go.

Salazar allowed himself to take a breath now to keep himself calm before he reacted in a none too pleasant way. Shouting was nothing new, it was what might come after if tempers flared too much. Keep himself calm, keep his magic in check. Too often he relief on its RAW power compared to the more precise nature of others and allowed it to move freely like an extension of himself. Within these walls, he had to appear as any other and keep it all locked away.

❝  All I am saying is that after you’ve had time to process, you shouldn’t just shut me out. The blood on your palms suggests you perhaps DON’T have the best way of handling things on your own despite what you say. My office doors are open at any time should you find yourself in despair.  ❞  The offer was there whether he take it up or not though with the raised voices, Salazar had the feeling there would be AVOIDANCE for some time but it wasn’t as if he could continue with the brief meetings then pretending there was nothing else. 

[hacked-by-jake]

Ok, i wanna follow up on the "being less talented or useless" anon ask, and yes, i will do it as anon too, cause, tbh, im a chicken to do it with my blog name😂

Firstly, I can understand that anon, i myself had the same feelig manny times, and honestly, i dont think that feeling will ever leave me. Follow that feeling up with the preasure of trying/wanting/needing to get better...it sucks, and it can screw with your mind really badly. And yes, im aware there are and always will be manny people that are more talented than me, and I am well aware my fics will never get a 100+likes, but thats ok. But i write, and will continue to do so, cause it makes me happy. And even if theres just one like on something that i wrote, that will make me happy.

But the reason i sent this to you is actualy something completelty different, so let me try to explain:

I came to realisation, that in every fandom,  there are a few types of people. And here where the problem is - if you are not "in cahoots" with the right people of that fandom, no matter what you do wont be good enough. Now, you can disagree with me here, thats fine, everyone is entitled to his/her opinion, but this is mine, and i stand behind it totally. Cause i read so manny great fics with so little likes/coments that were way better then some who got lots of likes, cause the one who wrote it wasnt connected with the right people of the fandom.

Again, just my opinion, but thats how i see it.

So, once again, to the anon who sent you that ask, dont give up, do what makes you happy firstly and mostly for yourself. You will either get better at it, or wont, but dont stop doing what brings joy to you! You wont know theboutcome of it by simply giving up.

And to you Hbj, i thank you in advace if you read this, and i apologise for this long rant, you are free to delet it without posting/answering it, but this thought was occupying my mind lately, and this anon ask just resurfaced that thought back, and tbh, its good to finaly let it out.

First of all: Hey Anon!

You know, I actually don’t quite agree with you, I can tell you why. I’ve been here longer than most of the people who are here right now. When I started here, the fandom had a lot more active members. There were many more people here and they were also active throughout.

I don’t think I need to pretend that I’m not so well known, because I’m one of the biggest blogs here at Duskwood Fandom on Tumblr. No, of course it’s not supposed to sound pretentious, but I also think it’s no secret. I’ve been here for over a year now, I’m incredibly proud of the range one my blog has reached, but see? It also took me time, and I also "fought here"😅

Of course, I would also reblogged a few times from larger blogs but with me it all came with time. At the moment, fandom is actually not as active as it used to be, which of course also contributes to the fact that some things don’t get as much attention as they might otherwise. It takes some time to build up a "range", I did it myself.

And what was also part of it for me was that fandom was generally more active, which is why it went even faster.

Personally, I don’t care who the person is, and what they belong to, if I like the work, I share it. And I don’t share everything, nor do I read everything, and of course I don’t see everything.

But in the same way, I don’t share everything that the blogs I'm connect with the most post.

And I’m very much referring to me now that you sent me this message, so I’m assuming you mean me, too..

Well, and as you also said, you saw stories that had less likes but were better than stories that had many likes. Please remember, that’s your opinion. Everyone has different tastes and just because you found them better doesn’t mean that it was actually like this or that everyone sees it like this. To say that this person just doesn’t belong to the right group is unfair not me, because maybe not everyone liked it as you liked it. I don’t know what you’re referring to now, so I’ll take it as this..

I fully accept your opinion, I even think it’s a pity that you think so because this is certainly not an intention of anyone here.

Yes, of course you sympathize more with some people, but you generalize this in such a way that I think it’s a pity. Because as I said, I do not see every single post that is published here, nor will others. And to say that this is generally the case is, in my view, a great pity. But I’m serious, I have absolutely no problem with your opinion, and I don’t want to change your opinion either, but I still feel like I have to explain myself, because I don’t prefer anyone directly, I share and like that, what I like, I also read only what appeals to me in general.

-

But about what you say yourself and to the anon, I can agree with you one hundred percent. As I said, I am still unsure and I still feel that I am less talented. (As I also say, this is simply a fact and I can live with it, of course this is not the most beautiful feeling in the world, but so it is, I will be able to improve, but maybe never become as good as others are)

And believe me, you shouldn’t say you’ll never get over 100 likes. I also thought so, and if we are honest, my first fanfictions are really grottos bad. xD And many of my own stories aren’t over 100 likes yet. But you’re right, you shouldn’t stop because of anything if you enjoy it. Because it’s still all about fun and having a good time together.

And don’t worry, your rant is okay. It’s your right to share your opinion, and believe me, I really have no problem with that. :D

I have to admit, I felt a little bit attacked because I don’t want to make anyone feel like they’re not good enough or anything. I want to treat everyone equally here and not give anyone any advantages or disadvantages.

And, of course, I won’t just delete or ignore your submission, that is not proper. It’s okay to let go of your thoughts, and also to share, don’t worry.

I hope you will have a great day/evening/night! Take care of yourself and stay healthy! 🥰🌹💚

Also, I hope you don’t take my answer badly, or anything else, it’s not meant to be mean, and I’m neither mad, nor anything else. I’d rather thank you for sharing and for taking the time to write all this.🥰

And I hope you understand what I want to say with all this. 😅

-

And of course, this is for everyone now, always remember, be nice to each other and love each other. No one wants to argue and I hope that we can continue to do so.❤️

[homestuckexamination]

Selfish Vs Unselfish

Jesus. Yeah I have nothing to comment here, I’m going to read this later when I haven’t just woken up.

You know the drill. Put it under ‘Read More’. A matter of perspective it can be, but there can be an objective truth to sort that out. Let me e x p a n d on this matter using Homestuck and some philosophy. And for those who missed the last ask on Active/Passive divide, please do remember that these labels are on a continuum, not strictly boxed categories. “UNSELFISH” or UNSELFISH - The passive classes lean more to this. How? By being group-oriented. Like support classes in RPGs, their asset comes mainly from a drive to benefit others. Roxy is one of the best examples of this. While she was passive-aggressive in her pursuit of romance, she is ultimately willing to put her self aside and bettering herself if that meant making sure the group stays together. She does this by, to quote Dirk, never turning the tables to make a talk about her when she knows her friend needs something.

TG: i was gonna say why i finally quit drinkin TG: i mean if you want to know GG: Yes. GG: Actually, once you did stop, it made me finally realize it was a problem for you for a long time. GG: And I didn’t say anything at the time, but it made me wonder if I wasn’t doing the right thing before. GG: By failing to point out you might have a problem? Or just going along with it and participating in lively banter any time you clearly had too much to drink? GG: Was I just being a bad friend? TG: nah it wasnt your responsibility to fix my shit TG: and anyway i think i made it hard for anyone to come at me like it was a real problem TG: i was always joking around so much and havin a good time like kind of overzealously so TG: that i probably just made people feel like a shitty wet blanket for even mentioning it

She wants to be of use to her group. However, the downside to this is that, as passively Roxy can be, she often needs them as well.

TG: and now dirk knows that too and for some reason letting him down feels like the worst part?? TG: which is equally lame and weak cuz i should care for my own sake not for how it makes a dude see me but it still just really bothers me ???

TG: i didnt want her to meet a sloppy embarrassing mess of a daughter

TG: even if she did like to drink at some point it was kind of a childish idea that doing so myself would make me closer to her or help us bond or whatever TG: anyway i think i might of overestimated her drinkin habits

How would you know if a class is truly passive when a character just been a really selfish a-hole through the story? It’s how they mainly rely on others as well. Let’s use Aranea as the main example of a selfish passive Sylph of Light that tries to emulate a Thief. Aranea says that Sylph is a healer type of class that involves boosting others, even excessively. However, while she claims that she merely wants to help and shepard the Alpha timeline by taking control of it, Meenah says otherwise. What Aranea has been doing is a self-aggrandizing act to get into the spotlight and not sit on the sidelines anymore, much like her fellow Serket. Like Kanaya, she is meddlesome. She asserts that what she does is for the good of all, even if that means doing something others would object to. They don’t want that. But, she does it anyway.

At first, she complies when the recipient refuses, but when it eventually comes to her ultimate takeover plan, everyone else comes second. She may believe that she’s just granting their wishes, but her underlying motive is ultimately selfish- albeit by excessively “helping” others for her own cause. Aranea failed to learn what Mindfang did:

“8ut as I sit here deciding what to do with the damna8le little sphere, I understand my error. It was not in failing to chart a course through future events to turn my fortune’s tide, even so many sweeps from now. It was in 8elieving the future was mind to know, and fortune mine to control.”

Now let’s use Rufioh and compare him to Roxy. Both of them are Rogues. Both of them are group-oriented characters that act selfishly from time-to-time. The difference is that Rufioh is more selfish. He’s extremely affable to the point of being a doormat to please others all while trying to be polite about romantic advances despite being a flirt himself. He’s reluctant to voice his own reason that he wants to leave his matespritship with Horuss. Sounds familiar? He’s the Jake of the love triangle. Rufioh cheated on Damara and never takes responsibility from it, focusing on Damara being a crazed scorned girl.

Passive players that fail to balance supporting others and fulfilling their own desires often end up being thrown in a loop. Forcing your solution solution on others for 'their own good’ is selfish. Your concern on how others perceive you may be sprouted from your own insecurity. Whenever you make a donation to the less fortunate, how can you be certain it’s not without the purpose of staving off guilt, doing it because it simply aligns with your moral code, or because it feels good? 

AG: I decided not to, 8ecause I didn’t want to 8e the one to make you sad about it.

AG: Was that selfish of me? I dunno.

It’s a gem to see volunteers whose instincts are to help people to make life more bearable, mind you. But they’re also doing that because they want to see them better and it’s often their own desire to do so and fulfill that dream.

ENLIGHTENED VS UNENLIGHTENED SELFISHNESS

-I’ve rambled on this a bit. Here’s a recap:

*Unenlightened Selfishness is… pretty much the archetypal self-centeredness that makes people jerks. It’s whenever you do something for yourself with little to no regard to other people’s desires. It’s the greedy shark hoarding all the treasure. It’s when you try to justify your actions with a perspective of “everyone else is selfish, so I’m entitled to be an asshole to everyone too”.

*Enlightened Selfishness or Enlightened Self-Interest is the opposite. It’s when you respect that everyone has their own wants and needs by compromising and coinciding them with your own. It’s like a deal. It’s the Golden Rule. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. It’s when you do things for other people for the good you’ll get from it, even when the payment is simple politeness and being generally nice. Society expects each individual to benefit the community in turn by working. We work with the expectation that others work for us. Unlike the first, this form of self-interest benefits both parties. Another term is Selfish Altruism.

We see an exercise of selfishness burning brightly through Vriska’s arc.

(VRISKA): I’m not a loser though! (VRISKA): I LIKE who I’ve 8ecome. (VRISKA): I actually feel happy and good a8out my life for the first time in… may8e forever?? (VRISKA): Like, ACTUALLY good a8out my life in a way that feels real, instead of forced. Don’t you realize that’s what it was like for us? VRISKA: You don’t have a life! VRISKA: You’re DEAD, remem8er? VRISKA: I’m the one with the life! VRISKA: And I fully intend to use it in a relevant and constructive way to help 8ring an end to all the horri8le shit that’s 8een going on for way too long. VRISKA: Remem8er when you used to care a8out that sort of thing? VRISKA: No, o8viously not. VRISKA: All you care a8out now is 8ullshit hipstery fashion trends, feeling “happy”, and… whatever the fuck it is you’re doing here? VRISKA: Frolicking with some horses in an ugly field or some shit. VRISKA: Just a8solutely disgraceful. VRISKA: How could I have 8ecome so selfish??

Vriska is accusing (Vriska) for being selfish despite being selfish herself. Remember her popular hero quote?

VRISKA: I only ever wanted to do the right thing no matter how it made people judge me, and I don’t need a magic ring to do that. VRISKA: You don’t have to 8e alive to make yourself relevant. VRISKA: And you don’t have to 8e a good person to 8e a hero. VRISKA: You just have to know who you are and stay true to that. VRISKA: So I’m going to keep fighting for people the only way I ever knew how.

VRISKA: 8y 8eing me.

And a few panels after that, she does this.

VRISKA: OHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! VRISKA: OH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! VRISKA: WE’RE G8ING TO LOOK AT WH8T’S IN THIS CH8ST RIGHT N8W!!!!!!!! VRISKA: DO YOU HE8R ME Y8U F8CK? VRISKA: I D8DN’T SCRAPE AND CLAW MY W8Y 8ACK TO RELEV8NCE F8R THIS SHIT! VRISKA: I’M DOING S8METHING F8CKING IMPORTANT! AND WHEN I DO SOMETH8NG FUCKING IMPORT8NT, EVERY88DY 8ETTER D8MN WELL PAY ATT8NTION TO ME!!!!!!!!

Sure, her resurrection got everyone’s attention, but also annoyance. A lot of their personal problems aren’t truly solved, just put on a temporary chokehold by someone with a stubborn, assertive personality. She’s taking charge so that her team won’t be in poor condition for the big fight, but also to, well, be in the spotlight. She doesn’t care how others think of her, she just wants to help… but also because it makes her important, even if that means overpowering her friends, including her moirail Terezi. Vriska’s the active counterpart to Roxy in both class and aspect. A positive part of this is that it’s easier for Vriska and other folks like her to be self-driven.

…

What am I getting at? It’s a matter of intention. Are they doing it to mainly benefit others? Or are they acting to benefit themselves? Even if it’s grey, there’s often a tint or shade that’s lighter or darker that makes someone lean somewhere. It doesn’t matter how they see themselves and how they perceive their own actions, it’s their motivation that defines the line. Accidents don’t count. It’s the will. Looking at one’s intention is a way to objectively sift through the blurriness of it their actions, even when said intention is subconscious. You can also simply take the Active/Passive divide on strictly class roles in terms of RPG abilities alone if you’re not keen on the personalities of the bunch.

[handonshipper]

A Twist Through Time: Chapter One

Hope was usually a great fighter. An excellent fighter even. However, when it is her friend that is attacking her, she does not fight back as strongly. She doesnt use her strength. Which was why she lost the magic battle against Josie in which the dark witch used a spell the tribrid didnt recognize. Hope collapsed , feeling her energy leave her. When her eyes opened, she was in a bed. In a one room apartment thing. She blinked in surprise and confusion and slowly pushed herself up into a seated position.

Klaus Mikaelson walked closer to the door of Stefan Salvatore’s apartment with Stefan himself by his side after a long night at the bar. He sighed contently. “Can’t you hear that?” He smirked looking over at his old friend. “It is the sound of Rebekah not annoying us to death.” He said clearly happy his sister had stayed behind last night, doing more shopping no doubt. Truthfully he didn’t care, so long as she stayed away for most part. He was beginning to wonder why he chose to undagger her in the first place. “I never did understand what you saw in her.” He chuckled softly. “Then again, I suppose I wouldn’t. Seeing as though she is my sister.”

PMStefan chuckled a little at that. "No, I suppose you wouldnt." He said, thinking back to the memories he now had of a time he had thought he had mostly blacked out. He stopped as he reached the door and heard someone on the other side. "Do you hear that?" He questioned. He knew it wouldnt be Elena since that was earlier and he had scared her away. Finally convinced her that he didnt want her. Enough at least to keep her away.

Klaus frowned as he too suddenly heard the sound of someone inside the small apartment. He signaled for Stefan to be quiet for a moment and only after a few seconds, he forced the door open with no warning whatsoever. His focused and only slightly concerned expression soon changed into a smug one as he caught sight of a girl on Stefan’s bed. “Stefan.” He playfully scolded. “Poor girl. She must have been waiting here all night for you.” He chuckled. “Apologies. My friend here apparently does not remember when he schedules time with women. He’s charming like that.” He snorted looking the girl over a little. She did look a little bit younger than the girls his friend normally pursued. But he supposed he couldn’t really judge.

Hope inhaled sharply and froze at the sight of her father. She barely even heard the words that came out of his mouth. Her mind was turning on what could possibly have happened. How was he standing here right now in front of her? How did he not recognize her. Then she recognized Stefan. Two people who were dead.

"I've never seen her before in my life" Stefan said, defensive and concerned about the girl. He wanted to find out how he could help her. But he was ripper Stefan right now. Not good Stefan. "What's your name?"

"Hope" Hope said after a moment. "My name is Hope"

Klaus glanced over at Stefan curiously when he said he hadn’t ever seen the girl before. “Well she is in your apartment. And the door was not forced open...at least not prior to my doing.” He pointed out and then focused on the young girl who was apparently named Hope. Quite an unusual name. Not to mention she looked as though she had seen a ghost. “What are you doing here then? What do you want?” He asked taking a small step towards her. Although he didn’t appear menacing quite yet, it was clear the playfulness was gone from his eyes and was instead replaced with caution and hostility.

"I... I dont know what I'm doing here" Hope said finally. "I woke up on the bed, but I certainly did not fall asleep on it"

Klaus raised an eyebrow at her words, clearly not believing her in the slightest. “Right. You were randomly transported to an apartment.” He stated sarcastically. “Let me ask you again. What are you doing here, and what are you after? They are truly simple questions.” He smirked stepping closer to her.

"I dont know what I'm doing here. All I know is I was blasted with a spell I have never heard of and now I'm here" Hope said firmly, looking at him. She could let her pain and confusion hit her later. "And I'm not up to anything. You'd think I have some diabolical reason for being in his apartment?" She raised an eyebrow. "There isnt even much in here. What could I possibly be up to?"

Klaus frowned and crossed his arms as he listened to the girl. He definitely didn’t like her attitude. She sounded entitled and worst of all, she didn’t seem scared of him. Something that didn’t sit well with him in the slightest. “Spell. Alright, let’s say I am considering that insane explanation. Who cast the spell?” He questioned looking at her. “And more importantly, why? Surely you must have done something. Witches do not normally spell others for no reason, even as obnoxious as they are.”

"I was trying to get my friend back. Dark magic and her insecurities were controlling her" Hope replied. "As for who casted the spell, that isnt important" she said.

“Hm. Let’s see. You claim to have been blasted here with a spell. You look properly upset about it. Yet when I ask you to tell me the name of the witch who casted such spell, you claim it isn’t important.” Klaus said slowly. “Suspicious don’t you think?” He smirked and then glanced over at Stefan.

"Less about its importance and more about I dont want you to know about her." Hope said with a sigh

"You want to protect your friend." Stefan observed, watching her. "Even if she hit you with the spell that brought you here"

Hope nodded, her blue eyes lowering a little as she thought about her friend. About everyone really. It was true even if it wasnt exactly true. It seemed she was in the past somehow. But how far back?

Klaus frowned, now having realized that as well. Not that he truly cared. Unless she was there to plan anything against him, which he could tell she wasn’t. There was something going on, but it wasn’t anything he should be worried about. “Right. Well if you are through being transported to places, the door is right through there.” He said dismissively as he gestured towards Stefan’s apartment door.

Hope's heart ached at that. It felt as though she was being disowned, but that was ridiculous. He didnt even know who she was. Which hurt even worse. "Where am I anyways?" She wanted to ask the year.

But she didnt want him to look at her with even more confusion.

“Chicago.” Klaus answered observing her carefully. He could tell there were things on her mind, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “What was the last place you were in before?” Maybe he could get a car for her and she could be on her way.

Hope sighed and frowned a little at that. "I was in Virginia. But going there wouldnt change anything. I'm all alone now" She checked her pockets. "And cashless" she said, sighing. "Whatever. I'll figure something out"

Klaus rolled his eyes, the girl’s problems not affecting him in the slightest. He did have bigger things to worry about after all. Which is why he wanted to get rid of her as quickly as possible. “Here.” He said as he pulled out a couple hundred dollar bills from his wallet and held them out for her. “Now you have zero excuses in leaving my friend’s apartment.” He said with a sarcastic smile present on his lips.

Hope hesitated and took them. "Thank you" she said softly. She lowered her gaze a little and headed out of the apartment.

Once she was far enough away, her wall crumbled. She leaned on the wall in an alley, tears starting to spill. Her heart pounded a little as she struggled to breath. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly, struggling to collect herself. She could handle this. She was a Mikaelson witch. She was a tribrid. And despite all she had endured, she could continue fighting. She would find a way back to Landon. No matter how much she wanted to see her dad again. To see her mom. To change the future. If she changed the future even the slightest, things could change, and she might not even be born. But how could she do this alone? She had no spellbooks. No friends. No family. Was it not bad enough that she had to endure her friends and the boy she loved forgetting her whole existence? Now she had to deal with her father alive, in front of her, and looking at her like she was a stranger?

Stefan watched her leave curiously. "Did it seem like she recognized us?" He asked Klaus as he walked further inside and opened the secret door bookshelf. He added the name of a victim to the very long list from the 20s and then grabbed a bottle of Klaus' favorite drink before walking back over to him.

Klaus frowned at Stefan’s words, his gaze remaining on the empty space the girl had been standing in moments ago. “Slightly. I noticed it too. Though if she wanted revenge for something you or I did in our time here, she has a very poor way of executing it.” He chuckled softly. “Either way I’m not concerned. She looked more lost rather than angry. And regardless, I doubt a fifteen year old girl is any match for the legendary original hybrid and the ripper of Monterey.” He smirked."Oh I'm not concerned either. It was merely an observation. Look what I found" Stefan said, passing him the bottle, label side up.

Klaus grinned at the sight of the bottle of his favorite drink. He took it inhis hands and looked it over. “My. I haven’t seen one of these in a long time. Unfortunately it will have to wait. Possibility until we have something worth drinking to.” He sighed and carefully set it down, his mind now going to all his failed hybrids. “Come. We should see if the witch has made any progress.”

Stefan nodded slightly, knowing it was better not to argue. He needed Klaus to see he was on his side. Not to figure out that he wasnt. He glanced back around at the old apartment and memories before heading out.

Hope took a deep breath, thinking. She went and bought a cheap sketchbook, knowing drawing would help keep her control a little. And she bought cheap pencils. She would prefer better supplies, but she needed to save as much money as she could. Especially since she wasnt sure where she was going to go or how to get home.

Klaus headed out of the apartment as well. He hoped there was some type of solution already. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. He finally broke his curse, only to not be able to make more of his kind. “I swear I am going to kill this witch if she still does not have anything.” He muttered.

[ivemadeanopinion]

Hello! This is my first post on this account. I recently posted about something political on my other account, and thought that I didn't want any politics on there really :)

I'm a 14 year old girl who really wants to formulate her own opinion and break away from my father's. He's a strong republican, prolife, doesn't believe in climate change, and thinks liberalism is a mental illness, or something along those lines. He basically assumes everyone from the other side is stupid. (Though, it wouldn't be infactual to say I've seen Democrats say so too about republicans.)

I hate sitting in my house, hearing my dad rant on and on about these things no one in my household cares about, and I thought, why not care? Why not care and begin to formulate my own opinion???

The amount of times I've embarrassed myself in school. Like I said, my father doesn't believe in climate change. I have a huge personality. So I've said it before. Tried to discuss it. And people look at me as if I'm insane. I didn't know better.

Whether you're republican, a Democrat, whatever you are, I'm open minded to any information, articles or anything you have to provide.

Please, although people can be assholes, not ALL people are assholes. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. On this blog I will try to avoid saying anyone is dumb, or say things negative about them. Discussing opinions is okay. There is no need to take it further than that.

I'd appreciate having a civil discussion. I might give you information my father has told me, and I wouldn't mind if you explained why he is wrong.

I don't believe that all Republicans are bad. I don't believe that all liberals are bad. I don't believe that a whole entire group of people is bad. Just certain people inside it. Yet every day I see posts bashing entire groups of people, defined by their gender, looks, race, sexuality other than what they believe in. There are always nice people in a bad group, and bad people in a nice group. (Of course, depending on how vague you go. If you say pro life, you arent saying that they're pro "you have to always give birth even if it's a child from rape." That isn't every person in the pro life community.)

Though I understand how posts go, and when you say "republicans" and stuff. It makes sense. I'm probably gonna say "most republicans" in my posts though, when it ever comes across, because it's a preference I guess. My whole family is republican and seeing the ones who aren't super terrible like my dad be grouped up in there just bothers me i guess.

That's the main opinion I stand for, and here's why (huge rant ahead. TLDR at the end of the lines. I reccomend you read, but it's alright if not.);

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When I began going to school, out in Florissant, Missouri, as early as kindergarten, I was bullied. Practically everyone in that school was black. I grew up in the hood area, I would say. Not as bad as some places, but still quite bad. Soon enough, I was bullied for being white. I've had people tell me that there's no way that's why I was bullied. Well, kids saying i should 'go to hell for being white', probably is an indicator, but what do I know? I was terrified. I kept to myself. My only friends became the special ed kids. Rachel and Summer were my best friends. Summer passed away in 2016. I wasn't informed till late 2017, by seeing my friends yearbook.

Nevertheless, I was called racial slurs, I was literally 'the plauge'. I blocked most of it out, it's trauma, but I can just remember trying to play a game with people and they say "the white girl is infected!!! Don't touch her!!" And, well, I didn't get to play with them. I played with Rachel instead, but she thought they were just playing tag. She didn't understand why they were running away. (They ran from her because she was special ed. She wasnt white.) It all got worse after the Ferguson riots. I was about 9 then.

I made my first friend in 3rd grade. His name was Kenan. He was outcasted because he was a crybaby. We became friends, but I still didn't play many games. Then Cayl'E came along in 5th grade. She was friends with everyone. She ended up becoming my best friend. Now she is family to me. She made everyone actually realize, that I might not be a terrible person just because of how I look. people still didn't touch me for a while. (not letting me be involved in house, no one picking me for heads up 7s up, etc, not like some weird stufd) but it soon got better for a few people. (Definitely not all. I can still name 3 kids that made my final weeks of 5th grade TORTURE. Yes, I cried really loud during the date ceremony because this kid was purposely overstimulating me)

Most traumatic time at that school? This might sound like the most fake part, but no, this is real; My 5th grade brother calling a 1st grader short, and a bunch of middle school kids (they looked tall) running up and beating the shit out of him. I was in 3rd grade. I had to run to find help. I couldn't help my brother, from getting beat up by like 20 guys. In hindsight, it probably wasn't that many, but I was in 3rd grade, I over exaggerated a lot.

I moved in 6th grade. Out to a better school. I was scared of the loud kids. And soon enough became used to it. Now I have a huge personality. I'm open, and today even walked in on my brothers zoom meeting to say my armpits smelled like burritos then walking away. Im not scared anymore. Most of the time. Sometimes I have flashbacks, but we don't need to discuss that.

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TLDR: I was severely bullied because of my skin color. I have some post traumatic stress from it it was quite bad. Yet through it, I made friends who helped me, despite the color of my skin. So through every bad there is good.

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What I'm trying to say from that is, not all white people are bad. Not all black people are bad. Just the certain people who made me so hurt much today. They didn't mean it though (I hope. A couple kids apologized about two years after moving.)

Not every group is bad just because you've had a bad experience with a few people. There are always kind people out there.

Whether I'm one is your decision, and whether you want to discuss some politics about like climate change, abortion or whatever, is also up to you.

Sorry for going on and on. Hope to hear back from anyone! (In a hopefully civilized discussion, I'm 14, not 54.) Oh and!! Don't be shy due to my age. I know way too much, I'm on the internet! I might be impressionable and stuff, but what's more impressionable? An opinion I can hear the facts to, or whatever the hell my dad is going on about? I've been stuck with this nutcase for forever, I wanna be able to say something about it.

[gayspock]

dont rb dont rply

aye well i’ll have my meltdown anyways  keep fucking going numb & and then randomly fucking collapsing in on myself all stupid style fucking sobbing when i remember it all & i dont know beloved once  . fucking losing it with being trapped in this stupid stupid fucking cycle. the brainrot. keepg etting really fuckin pissed with ppl for no reason but my own pettiness & insecurity & im not. letting myself act on tht shit but god dont you eve rjsut want to blow up fucking  scream at someone just for a Second of catharsis and its not fair but ur just fucking . done and tired of just being so worthless all of the fucking time and its not GOING 2 make u worth anything but maybe just for a moment it might feel like you’ve actually done something even if its entirely destructive like what does it matter man i just feel sick and lonely every fucking second and what DOES it matter when theres no reprieve but like whatever fleeting, immensely shallow thing you can briefly distract yourself with but even that is so wafer thin and delicate and its not enough to substantiate the rest of it, not enough for it to be anything, when everything else still just rings so fucking hollow and exhausting because everything is just draining doing something bothering with something that means fucking nothing  youre ufcking nothing moments i dont care just hate every fucking second of it like you sit there and just resent it all again and again fucking god i wish i had killed myself 5 years ago, 10 years ago, however many years ago because not a single second of the past decade was worth any of it, not a single second and quite the contrary its less than its a “i fucking wish i never did it, i fucking wish so hard that i was never fucking alive ever” because it was always just. fucking stupid trying to be and it hurts knowing none of it ever means anything  like. it never fucking matters and its been so fucking rotten for so long and i dont know why i jsut feel so stupid for still being alive for soemtimes . goes off of the whole self loatihng, the way it spirals; how you think you hate yourself, but at least you’re realistic but no no you’re not you realise you’re worse it’s worse it gets worse you think i hate myself i wish i wasnt alive but do you really are you really that adjusted because surely you’re still so entitled . like you must sitll be so fucking self involved to STILL be crawling abt , thinking you’re anything when everything is to the contrary and i dont know i wish i wasnt . i wish i lsitened to ppl, those tht told the truth, and just fucking realised i was better gone & dead man & it sounds so sick and melodramatc and like a fucking joke but i know i know its fucking true u kno like idkaspfjdsp. its funny fucking sometimes when ppl trty and be like its insecurity its whatever but . as much of an idiot i am its so fucking patronising like i jsut dont fc=sdfpfodsv. thats ANOTHER thing  fucking whatveer but god i dont know u kno when u see ppl saying they’re alone and its not fair to judge in ur position but ur also just so fucking Miserable tenfold bc you would give fucking anything just fucking anything to have friends like they do or have a partner or fucking anything to not ACTUALLY be left out of fucking everything all of the god damn time and i know thts mad stupid childish and unfair but i dont know i jsut.  im going on 10 different tangents i jsut i dont know i fucking. hate it sometimes ijust wish i had somewhere safe sometimes i jsut i dont know im tired of being alone all the time and jsut fucking drifting aimlessly between groups of ppl & never rlly fitting in & fucking just eventually hating being everywhere & just having to tell myself time and time agan that maybe one day but instead its always jsut miserable and lonely and no matter how hard i try its so worthless and its just. why is everything like that u kno like just. it just always means fucking ntohing no matter what u do and theres nothing there and im sick of it its not worth it i dont..... like.. i again dont know why i stayed alive and i jsut feel so fucking stupid. for just having any faith in it . even if i didnt feel-feel like it was worth it i didnt. hate myselfnenough - like even. when i fucking was miserable as SHITE it still... i was still overestimating myself compeltely bc im Less than even tht you know wht i fucking mean. to still be alive; to have lived, thinking it would. i dotng posdjpds gjdsgi dont know . i just fucking . im a joke everythings just a fucking JOKE man its not. anything at all is jsg9j9pdsfjfd. and . its funny bc its not like anyone else would even CARE like i n the sense of nobody is fucking judging me for it bc its not like it even. matters to anyone outside the stupid fucking bubble but thats. god i dont know i think thts whts just. me walking around my room by myself and just siting down andmelting down whenebver i remember like. i am me and i rrally am just. this is it this is who i am na d jsut. i dont k

[sagittariusboyfriend]

lmao oh man. ok ive been talking to a guy who from the start knew i wasnt interested in any romantic stuff - i told him up front, he told me he wasnt either. cool cool. so we met for a coffee and yeah im not attracted to him, but he is intellectually stimulating u know. like where you can have many hours of conversation because hes really communicative and blunt and honest and has a very different view on life than me etc. which i like about him. i learn so much from direct opposites. we become friends. well, flirty friends, but honestly he is the only one doing the flirting during this entire time. ive been very specific not to as to not send any mixed signals, and have had to dodge some straight-forward sexual stuff a few times. not at all because i dont want to talk sex, we have absolutely talked sex, but not with each other, and i just really dont want him to think im attracted.

however he turned out to be a pretty... petty and unchill person. at times, anyway. as i said i like talking to him and do so quite often, or did so anyway, up until recently. a while ago he started to get very contrarian, like, edgy? rude, but at first in a playful way. i dont have a problem with rude when its in a playful/comunicative way, im amused by that and i indulge in dishing it back playfully from time to time. but it was very obvious he was doing it because i mentioned i was into "rude" guys, maybe once, when we were talking about my former love interests. and by rude i definitely dont mean as in someone whos all high and mighty, self-entitled, or stuff like personal attacks, im talking about a kind of humor, or in a charming, charismatic and mischievous way. and maybe that is my fault for not specifying what that actually meant, idk. its still kind of strange completely rearranging your personality based on something i said once, you know? it all felt very contrived to me.

but anyway, he also started to get pissed off that i would see my friends but couldnt see him (he lives in a different city...) and about how i could afford to go drink beer with my friends and not drink tea at his place (he also doesnt drink and, again, lives in a different city) and im like... ok first, im not even that into you in comparison, i will always pick my friends over others, i prioritize my money (i am by NO MEANS wealthy omfg) the way i want and on what is proportional to what i get out of the experience. im not going to put out a lot of money on a train ticket to sit at home with you, a guy ive met in public ONCE, when i have all of my biggest friend groups in this city, here, where i live, and we enjoy drinking beer, watching soccer, going to the beach, hanging out in parks, having game nights and hosting and going to parties etc etc. heck yes im going to spend my last money on being with them. and i have told him this, and also that if i had more of a disposable income right now i would obviously be freer to do whatever. ive never been against going to his place to hang out and not having it involve any alcohol, thats all cool, but right now i just cant afford it, and i would prefer to hang out in public some more. but hes not into my scene, so what am i gonna do. and i dont think its strange to think like, i know my last bucks will get me two beers at the cheapest bar, but two beers are still not the price of a (one-way) train ticket. but he just... gets mad about it. in a very childish way. and i keep a very open an honest discussion with him, and most of the time he gets it. hes not dumb or socially awkward, i know hes not, but hes kind of... hard to deal with, i guess is the right word, when there is a personal relationship. in a not so charming way. where he can come off as uncertain, distristful(!) and a bit egocentrical. a classic "ive been hurt by hierarchy for most of my life so now im always on high alert and im going to be as obtuse and snarky as possible so i can feel like i have some sort of control and i WILL take up space and society WILL give me what i feel ive been cheated of my entire life also emotionally im a scared child and really really need validation but im never ever going to admit that". most of the time hes not, but when he started "demanding" to know why i couldnt hang out, or what my expenses were(!!) i immediately got turned off. having to motivate or explain your life and choices to a person youve met once and that you, sure, appreciate, but that you dont really know? no thanks. people not trusting me or my reasons makes me angry, because i put so much value in honesty, so i got angry at him (which is VERY not my character). and he kind of took a step back.

we havent spoken as intensely since then, maybe two weeks ago, and i honestly dont mind except for i like to write and communicate with a lot of people about a lot of stuff to keep myself occupied and he is now one less person to do that with i guess. but now he casually struck up a convo on my snapchat on a post "where i looked hot". i was like heh thanks! and he went on saying "i need to remind myself of how good-looking you are sometimes... kind of stupid actually"

so im like... uhuh... why would you need to remind yourself of that? already finding it a bit cringey

and he says "because i forget about you? xD"

aaaand im rolling my eyes trying not to gag. he is obviously looking for a reaction and im like wtf are we 15

then he fucking says, all philosophical like: "sometimes we need to be reminded why we start talking to/hitting on someone in the first place" and i was just like...... ok stop... what a fucking backhanded compliment. that actually was you telling me that i havent been paying attention to you that much and you want my attention.

god.

again, so turned off by this kind of personality. and i dont mean that only sexually, i mean... i dont think we can be friends, man. youre acting kinda gross. "we" as in, people of the earth, dont need to be reminded of that. that is not a universal truth. this is cringyness, a wounded ego on a high horse.

idk maybe he was trying to be nice or trying to say hes sorry because he was out of line earlier, but i genuinely dont think he thinks so himself, but... ugh. i am not into this. i am not into him. i have been doing my best not to string him along by the way, by being veeeery open about the fact that i sleep with different people, and not just guys, and that i like being single right now and that i have many issues to take care of and heal, so i hope he doesnt feel like ive been doing that to him for some reason.

im just very over this guy. i basically answered him that it sounded more like a backhanded compliment than anything else and that i know ive been bad at ~paying attention~ to him in that way lately, and that im aware of that because im just not interested in paying that kind of attention to anyone at all right now. lets see what his response is. i bet on either a douche guy "lmao ok i was just giving you a compliment chill" or a niceguy/neckbeard "wow youre not better than me". or perhaps hell be an adult about it. i feel like i do have some faith in him still.

but jesus christ the cringe

update: this was a while ago and i dont remember what he answered but it surprisingly wasnt any of the above. we stopped talking for a few months tho and now im in love with a gorgeous person that i recently became exclusive with. this guy is still someone i talk to now and then on snapchat. he semi-regularly drops compliments on my selfies and i guess thats just fine, but his snaps are very very bitter and sometimes i can tell he wants to get my attention. 🤷‍♂️

[dantetv]

It was a story...

It was a story...

Ed bent over to pick up the next box off the truck and laid it on the loading dock. Sun wasn't quite up yet, the wind still had a chill to it from the night. A few stars decorated the sky still. But the ache in his arms pretty much occupied his mind. He looked into the truck at the remaining thirty or so bigger boxes, then just sat down on the dock.

Needed a minute, Ed thought. Few more months, then he'd retire. Maybe Malibu. Or someplace warm. Eh, who was he kidding? Probably just ignore the world til Christmas. Maybe longer. He looked up as a couple walked by. Plainly but nicely dressed, they looked like they had Asian features. He caught the eye of one, who gave him a nod. Then a wink. They kept on walking up the street, probably for breakfast.

Ed shook his head. He imagined the wink, had to. It was almost like they knew him. He stood up, shaking his head again then hands to loosen them up. Get distracted too easy these days Ed, he thought. Gotta stay focused on your work. Wasnt like there was a going to be a 'flash of light' or something that would appear out of thin air. He took the little blue egg-sized stress ball from his pocket, giving it a few pumps in each hand. Need to get my focus, Ed thought. Bang out this last batch of boxes then head over to Gregg's Shop for a slice and a cup of coffee. Could've eaten breakfast first. But with all the idiots that come flying in to unload thinking they are entitled to their own special spot on the dock, just ain't worth the aggravation. Tho watching that one guy gets into an argument with a lady over her delivery yesterday was priceless. Beat the shit out of Jerry Springer. Best guess is the guy did a bid on the delivery, parcel unseen, in a fit of rage to beat out another shipper. However, he didn't realize what she had wasn't a movie prop. It was full-scale, military grade. He tried to weasel his way out of it, saying he didn't have licenses after she blew up when he tried to hit her up for money. No shit. He can still hear her words echoing all over the dock at the top of her lungs.

"But how am I going to get my field cannon home????"

Ed was just waiting to see after the guy finally left her in the lurch if she was going to load it up and blast his ass. Would've been funny as hell. Tho anyone asked, he didn't see shit. But when he came in this morning, it was gone. Wonder what kind of home she had that she needed a field cannon. Or for that matter, why the hell she needed one. Ed heard a noise in the corner, a rat looked like it had been in a fight with something and was flailing in a puddle of trash. Didn't look so good, tho no reason anything should need to suffer an end like that. Ed took out a broomstick and moved away from the trash, flipping a piece of string that had gotten tangled around the rat's neck. There ya go, little fellow, Ed thought. The rat did a few flips on its sides before righting itself. After a minute, it ran down a dark side of the wall out of Ed's sight.

Ed then heard the sound of a bicycle tire squeal and a young voice call to him. Shoot, he forgot. He waved at the voice and walked into the trailer, grabbing a large stack of papers. As he came out, he dropped the papers on the dock in front of a young boy, wearing a ball cap and jacket. The kid already had his swiss army knife out, cutting the string and starting to roll the papers into a bag he had.

Ed smiled. Nice to see a kid up early, trying to make some money for some sort of dooflicky thing. Wasn't sure if it was a video game, book, or someplace the kid wanted to go to. Maybe it was a movie he meant. Ed didn't know nor did he ask. The kid was on a schedule and he wasn't going to mess with his mojo. Ed went back into the truck for another box and came back out, noticing a tall man standing by the lamp post watching them. He looked like a mortician. Probably some guy that had a long night partying and wound up here to sober up. Didn't seem like a freak and the kid didn't seem fazed. It had been a very long time since Ed saw any form of law enforcement down here. Have to think on over coffee the last time it was later.

Ed turned his back, the young voice saying something as it trailed off. Ed turned back around, watching the kid disappear on his bike. The tall man in black was gone. Heck, for that matter, Ed seemed to be the only one around. The kid had left a paper for him, one of the extras they get in case one gets damaged when they're delivering them. He glanced over the headlines, reports of the death of Harry Stone, some great TV producer. His stars were planning a benefit in honor of him for some charity or another. Probably wanting to use it as a launching event for a new company while there was still some of Harry's warmth in people's minds. Or wherever they wanted it.

Ed flipped it to the back, some ads for alcohol and small news story on another death in Millville. Cub reporter, Ed thought. It was only a few lines. But it got this kid their first credit. Gotta start somewhere, Ed thought.

Ed went back into the trailer and grabbed what looked like a light box. Idiot kids liked to do it ass backward, lifting all the heavy stuff then the light. It all has to get unloaded. This way, he could have more room to shimmy the heavy stuff out. Ed had just placed one foot on the dock when the bottom of the box opened and its contents spilled out. Ed cursed, flipping the box over and tossing the contents back in before anyone saw anything. The top was still taped so he could just fake...

It was a hat that stopped him. A Totenkopf. He froze for a moment, then pulled himself together and threw it all in the box. It wasn't his business nor his shipment. He didn't even want to know why there was a pair of black stiletto boots in there. He got it all back in and folded the box together.

Shit, he thought. That took a lot out of him. Ed was feeling the need more and more for that coffee. Just to take the edge off, he thought. He started to go back into the trailer, then just shook his head. Naw, I gotta get the coffee. A few minutes later, Ed was still laughing after the service Gregg gave some tourist about their food. Gregg was in rare form, dousing the entire plate of pancakes in syrup. Then he set it on fire. There's your crepes, he said. Yea. Gregg....

Ed stopped in his tracks. The trailer he was unloading was gone. All the stuff he unloaded was also gone. But that was impossible. This town was too small for theft like this. Plus any truck that could haul this thing would have made a ton of noise going past the coffee shop. Ed checked his watch and the clocks in the loading dock office. They said the same thing, he was only gone for five minutes. Absolutely no way. Ed thought he might have been finally starting to lose it when he saw the newspaper the kid had left him was still in the office. Ads for frying pans and the new Pixie camera plus the article on the Millville Deep deaths.

He went back out, jumping off the loading dock and into the yard. It was all pavement, so no tracks. Ed then noticed a woman in all black holding up a lamp post across the road from the dock. He opened the gate and started walking towards her. She took a long draw on the cigarette she was smoking.

'Ed, we have a deal.' she said. 'I can do my thing until sunrise without hassle. We agreed to that.'

Ed nodded. 'Yea, yea. Don't care. I do care about what happened to the trailer I was unloading this morning. Did you see who took it?'

The woman took another draw on her cigarette, weighing her options as to whether or not it was worth asking for money. Before she spoke, Ed already had a $20 in his hand. Her eyes riveted to it, her top starting to open reflexively when she caught herself. Ed smiled. 'Just the info. I already had my breakfast.' She grabbed the $20, tho Ed didn't let it go. 'And what happened..', Ed asked?

The woman took a last hit on the cigarette, then dropped it to the ground and crushed it out.

TO BE CONTINUED...

MILLVILLE DEEP MYSTERY An Acme Detective Agency Campaign

[pninaharchive]

1,4,5,11,12. Happy pride month. Also: how do you feel about people not coming out to friends and stuff? I don't feel obligated to, but at the same time I sometimes feel like I'm not legitimate or something bc I never discuss my sexuality like even around other queer people sometimes. If someone asked I might be honest with them but I never feel the need to bring up my sexuality. IDK I have a lot of mixed feelings on this

1. what is your sexuality?

queer

4. do you have any preferences?

UM IDK the girls ive liked have been blonde and have kind of square faces but ive been attracted to a lot of different kinds of girls that i just didnt get to know enough to develop crushes on girls are magic and theres beauty in so much about them i just dont have crushes very often

5. share a positive memory about coming out!

i didnt really come out in the traditional sense i just kind of started talking about girls until everyone got the picture. um. in my junior yr of hs my english teacher asked a question about love, something about the people being attracted to people who are different or like them i think?? and at the time i had been dating olive for over a yr so i talked about how we got together and it was the first time i talked openly about dating/being attracted to girls at school and i remember when i was done talking a couple people asked about her and said we sounded cute, etc. and it was really nice and validating. like i didnt get any surprised or gross reactions they just wanted to know her name and how long we’d been together it was sweet.

11. tell us about your first crush?

my first celeb crush was keira knightley in pirates of the caribbean which i saw when i was five. i dont know who my first real crush was bc i know i definitely had crushes on my close girl friends but my memory is kind of hazy and i cant quite find the line b/w crush and not bc i wasnt cognizant of it at the time.  

12. what sort of advice to have you lgbtq teens?

adolescence is the time of self discovery and starting to hash out your identity and its important to move at your own pace and do whats best for you above all else imo. it doesnt matter what other people are doing or expect of you, just keep checking in with yourself and do what feels right. u dont have to have everything figured out right now. 

idk thats really vague i just feel like identity is the sort of thing thats so dependent on the person!! im a big proponent of just doing what /feels/ right for each individual.

thank u and happy pride month!! 

thats totally fine. like i said above just move at your own pace. ur not obligated to define urself for others by any means. if u never feel the need to bring it up, dont, that doesnt erase the feelings u experience. i dont want to imply that this will Necessarily change for u, but i did used to be the same way and im kind of in a middle ground now (i never like. formally came out really i told my mom i liked girls bc she asked me and i guess there were some conversations about it in the family bc they all know even though i didnt announce it or talk to anyone else about it) if it comes up in conversation it just depends on how i feel in the moment with that person whether ill talk about it and thats just what works for me. maybe youll get to a point when you want to talk about it more, or maybe you wont, but youre entitled to choose whether and how u express urself. 

[mymarrishheart]

Hi. Liliaeth has told me herself that every person who likes stiles is a fan of bullying and is subconsciously racist just because we 'erase' scott and does not accept the fact that canon is up to personal intepretation and fan creators should not be policed on their content. She used the death of tamir rice to further her allegations on stiles', a fictional character's, personal intepretation, on his death anniversary

She complained to creators of sterek on the alleged 'erasure' of scott. She constantly brings up her age and bullied past and experience in fandom to make her opinion seem superior to other fans and therefore should be the policeman of the fandom. She ignores poc voices on racism, and ignores social contexts of the show (lack of representation, stiles' adhd and anxiety disorder) to make it seem like anyone who likes stiles and doesnt like scott as much is subconcsiously racist

She has similar reputations in other fandoms. She has a black and white view on morality and condescendingly tells other fans that only characters who learn from scott and care about him all the time 100 percent is likeable on the show. She got pissed when melissa showed care for stiles instead of scott one time and said she 'hadnt forgiven her for that yet' and hated her for it. Her claims of racism in the sterek fandom and several individuals are entirely unfounded and insulting to poc fans

She dismisses the homophobic acts of tyler posey and went out of her way to make it seem like she is the pinnacle of social justice and activism when she only ever wants to make fandom a perfect place for HER when it should be full of potential and choices for everyone, and says its frustrating to only see sterek fics because the fandom erases pocs, when its proven by fic stats already that the sterek fandom has more inclusion of cocs than any other in teen wolf

Her allegations are vague. Her accusatory language at the fandom in whole shows her to be very self entitled when it comes to what fandom should and should not be. She acts like her experiences are the most unique and should be glorifoed enough to shape the rules of fandom. She compared a real life event of lethal racism with fiction just for the purpose of degrading a char to her own liking and disgraced the death of tamir rice. She wasnt even sorry. I checked with her.

Im sorry that i have to blast you with the long asks, but i truly, truly despise people who acts nice but does it to draw sympathy and make herself seem right all the while skipping over people of color's fan opinions and calling an entire group of fans racist, as well as people who like bullies. What you wish to make of fandom is ofc your choice, but let you not be swayed by a nice message or two, and especially not from hypocrites.

Wow okay I’m gonna try to break this down as promptly and accurately as possible. I’m starting to see how people feel when I mass-message them in the IM.

She’s a troll who doesn’t let people skip over Scott in their fics/other creative works that are not all-inclusive of who he is: yup, knew about that. I saw the post she created. Also, saw the backlash that came along with it. I liked the post in its entirety a while ago.

Self explanatory: how can there be an erasure of Scott if it’s just a ship? One that doesn’t even include him? Also, speaking as a poc myself... ignoring poc voices on racism is pretty shitty. Using any means to make yourself sound superior is also pretty shitty.

also shitty

What homophobic acts of Posey? I literally stay out of celebrities’ lives so I have no idea when anything like this actually happens (aka the only things I know about are the ones people directly bring to my attention)

No comment from me. I try to stay out of politics so literally have no idea about the Tamir Rice case (but thanks to tumblr forcing everything on me, I’d probably know it if I saw his face.)

Yeah I mean I never said I agreed with her, nor did I say I disagree. I’m quite literally trying to stay out of this. This isn’t my fight, but thank you (and whoever else was involved) for bringing this stuff to my attention simply so I’m not blindly following everything she posts in the ant stiles tag. Like I just wanna be a drama free blog lol. I’ve got enough discomfort to share with my therapist already. But btw, I’m gonna choose to take this not as you telling me not to be naive (because I don’t think that was your intention), but a very lengthy explanation of why y’all don’t like her. Not saying I believe it, not saying I don’t. All I want is to be civil with everybody who comes across my blog. So with that said...can I please be left out of this now

[samanthasroberts]

Obama Wanted To End ‘Childish Things’ In Washington. Instead, He Got Trump.

On a frigid day in January 2009, after the chief justice of the Supreme Court bungled the oath of office, Barack Obama delivered his inaugural address to a crowd of millions and implored them to understand the gravity of the moment.

The time for recriminations and worn-out dogmas had ended, the president declared, in a nod to the bitter campaign that had just concluded and the crumbling U.S. economy he was inheriting. We remain a young nation. But in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things.

Eight years later, the economy has improved. But those childish things very much remain, and they have clouded Obamas swan song in office and complicated his legacy.

As Obama prepared for his final speech last week in his hometown of Chicago, his successor, Donald Trumpa reality television host with little grasp of policy issues, save a desire to upend much of his predecessors agenda faced accusations that hed watched Russian prostitutes urinate on his hotel bed.

It is an inharmonious and depressing bookend to the Obama years, which will be defined by historic legislative achievements, relentless partisanship and the fusion of media, entertainment and governance. And for many veterans of the administration, that failure to move beyond the immaterial distractions and endless squabbles that often consume politics is the sore spot of his legacy.

The toxicity of the environment here, we were not able to change. That doesnt mean it cant change in the future. It just means we fell short of where we hoped to go. Valerie Jarrett, senior adviser to President Barack Obama

We were not as successful as we hoped we would be [in changing the culture of Washington], said Obamas longtime senior adviser, Valerie Jarrett, in an interview. But I will say this: Notwithstanding that, we still made enormous progress here. We were able to get some extraordinary accomplishments done that have benefited our country. But the toxicity of the environment here, we were not able to change. That doesnt mean it cant change in the future. It just means we fell short of where we hoped to go.

Though it is dwarfed by his legislative successes, Obamas inability to change the culture of Washington is no small failure. It was the keystone to his 2008 campaign, and arguably the main ingredient in his upset primary win over Hillary Clinton and his general election triumph over John McCain.

But for some Democrats, the notion that childish things could ever be truly set aside was always a touch naive. Howard Dean, who chaired the Democratic National Committee when Obama first ran, recalled a conversation the two had after Obama had secured the Democratic nomination.

He said, Im through the hardest part now, Dean recalled Obama saying. And I said, If you think that, you have another thing coming. These guys are ruthless and their only mission is that you dont succeed.

To a large degree, Dean was the more prescient of the pair. The night of Obamas inauguration, House Republicans dined with top operatives, plotting how to put the brakes on his agenda and win back power. Months later, Republican leadership announced their opposition to the Recovery Actbefore Obama had even finished a meeting to pitch the economic stimulus package to members of Congress. It was a sharp and early illustration of the GOP id. The fact that it took Obama years to recognize it as such, his aides now concede, was a strategic miscalculation.

But it wasnt just the knee-jerk opposition of Republicans that confounded the Obama White House. A host of distractions and quasi-scandals during those early months and years proved maddening as well. There was the absurd cable catnip, like the infamous terrorist fist jab that Obama exchanged with his wife; the partisan-hyped controversies, like the conservative talk radio complaints over the presidents efforts to secure the Olympic Games in Chicago; and the rhetorical missteps that sucked the oxygen out of the room.

None were quite as memorable as what transpired on June 22, 2009. That day, Obama gave a press conference in which 12 of the first 14 questions involved his efforts to construct and pass health care reform (in between was a question on financial regulatory overhauls). The question that ended up getting the most attention, however, would be the very last, when Obama responded to a request for comment on the arrest of Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. at his Cambridge home by suggesting the officer had acted stupidly.

It would take a week for that micro-scandal to die down, and only after the officer, Gates and Obama met at the White House for a beer summit to talk things over.

Jim Young/Reuters

The infamous beer summit.

For Obamas staff, the challenge quickly became figuring out which crises were real and which were ephemeral. Sometimes, they arguably made matters worse, like informally blacklisting Fox News amid a torrent of conspiratorial coverage from its then-host and chalkboard aficionado Glenn Beck or elevating talk show host Rush Limbaugh as the face of the GOP in 2009 rather than dismissing him outright.

But on the whole, Obamas aides learned to distinguish between the substance and the noise. They also figured out which battles to pick and which to avoid. Obama, for example, became notably more deliberate about addressing racial issues following the beer summit because, aides said, he recognized that his involvement often only further polarized matters.

The problem was, Obama had pledged to lower the noise and not simply skate around it. And as time went on, it became increasingly malignant. A congressman could scream you lie at the president during a bicameral event and raise a quick million dollars in donations. End-of-life consultations could be depicted as death panels not only on the conservative fringe, but byRepublican senatorsthe White House was trying to woo. And a reality television star could push a racist conspiracy theory about the presidents birthplace and, instead of being laughed off the air, turn it into a foundation for a White House bid.

Dan Pfeiffer, the presidents longtime aide, argued that the key element in all this was a political media culture that not only enjoyed the spectacle but profited from it. One reason that the White House ultimately decided to release Obamas birth certificate in April 2011, for example, was because aides felt they couldnt move past Trumps provocations during the daily briefing.

I remember that period very well, because there was a lot of real serious shit happening in the world, a European financial crisis, and the economy was in a bad place, Pfeiffer told HuffPost last fall. But Donald Trump kept going on TV and he would make these claims, and it was treated as: Well, Trump says this. It wasnt with great scrutiny. He was being given a bullhorn to shout racist shit without being called on it.

While it became clearer that childish things werent going away, the president still attempted to forge through them. For months, he searched around for a Republican to support his health care bill, to no avail. He made an abrupt shift from Keynesian stimulus to deficit reduction to calm his conservative critics in 2010. And in the summer of 2011, he sought a grand bargain on entitlements and taxes with then-House Speaker John Boehner (R-Ohio) when there was little indication that Boehner would, or could, ever get his caucus to go along. Sure enough, the deal fell apart, replaced by a series of sharp and indiscriminate budget cuts known as sequestration.

Larry Downing/Reuters

Barack Obama and John Boehner during the 2011 debt ceiling negotiations.

The presidents closest aides were fond of saying that the GOP fever would eventually break, first after Republicans won control of the House in 2010, then after they lost the election in 2012, and finally after they shut down the government in 2013. But it never did. And eventually, Obama went his own route, famously deploying his pen and phone strategy of executive and administrative actions.

For his close advisers and friends, it is a testament to Obamas character that he continued believing, up until that moment, that Washington could, indeed, change its stripes. But even they recognize that his earlier reluctance to acknowledge that childish things would remain was not without sacrifice that the pursuit of comity sometimes came at the cost of sound messaging and policy.

No one can look back eight years and say we couldnt have done a better job somewhere, given the outcome, said Anita Dunn, Obamas former adviser. The policies will stand the test of time, the presidents personal standing is high as he leaves office (as it should be), but somewhere along the way, too many people stopped seeing the Democratic Party as relentlessly focused on improving the economy and their lives, which opened the door for Donald Trump.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/07/09/obama-wanted-to-end-childish-things-in-washington-instead-he-got-trump/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/07/09/obama-wanted-to-end-childish-things-in-washington-instead-he-got-trump/

[adambstingus]

Obama Wanted To End ‘Childish Things’ In Washington. Instead, He Got Trump.

On a frigid day in January 2009, after the chief justice of the Supreme Court bungled the oath of office, Barack Obama delivered his inaugural address to a crowd of millions and implored them to understand the gravity of the moment.

The time for recriminations and worn-out dogmas had ended, the president declared, in a nod to the bitter campaign that had just concluded and the crumbling U.S. economy he was inheriting. We remain a young nation. But in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things.

Eight years later, the economy has improved. But those childish things very much remain, and they have clouded Obamas swan song in office and complicated his legacy.

As Obama prepared for his final speech last week in his hometown of Chicago, his successor, Donald Trumpa reality television host with little grasp of policy issues, save a desire to upend much of his predecessors agenda faced accusations that hed watched Russian prostitutes urinate on his hotel bed.

It is an inharmonious and depressing bookend to the Obama years, which will be defined by historic legislative achievements, relentless partisanship and the fusion of media, entertainment and governance. And for many veterans of the administration, that failure to move beyond the immaterial distractions and endless squabbles that often consume politics is the sore spot of his legacy.

The toxicity of the environment here, we were not able to change. That doesnt mean it cant change in the future. It just means we fell short of where we hoped to go. Valerie Jarrett, senior adviser to President Barack Obama

We were not as successful as we hoped we would be [in changing the culture of Washington], said Obamas longtime senior adviser, Valerie Jarrett, in an interview. But I will say this: Notwithstanding that, we still made enormous progress here. We were able to get some extraordinary accomplishments done that have benefited our country. But the toxicity of the environment here, we were not able to change. That doesnt mean it cant change in the future. It just means we fell short of where we hoped to go.

Though it is dwarfed by his legislative successes, Obamas inability to change the culture of Washington is no small failure. It was the keystone to his 2008 campaign, and arguably the main ingredient in his upset primary win over Hillary Clinton and his general election triumph over John McCain.

But for some Democrats, the notion that childish things could ever be truly set aside was always a touch naive. Howard Dean, who chaired the Democratic National Committee when Obama first ran, recalled a conversation the two had after Obama had secured the Democratic nomination.

He said, Im through the hardest part now, Dean recalled Obama saying. And I said, If you think that, you have another thing coming. These guys are ruthless and their only mission is that you dont succeed.

To a large degree, Dean was the more prescient of the pair. The night of Obamas inauguration, House Republicans dined with top operatives, plotting how to put the brakes on his agenda and win back power. Months later, Republican leadership announced their opposition to the Recovery Actbefore Obama had even finished a meeting to pitch the economic stimulus package to members of Congress. It was a sharp and early illustration of the GOP id. The fact that it took Obama years to recognize it as such, his aides now concede, was a strategic miscalculation.

But it wasnt just the knee-jerk opposition of Republicans that confounded the Obama White House. A host of distractions and quasi-scandals during those early months and years proved maddening as well. There was the absurd cable catnip, like the infamous terrorist fist jab that Obama exchanged with his wife; the partisan-hyped controversies, like the conservative talk radio complaints over the presidents efforts to secure the Olympic Games in Chicago; and the rhetorical missteps that sucked the oxygen out of the room.

None were quite as memorable as what transpired on June 22, 2009. That day, Obama gave a press conference in which 12 of the first 14 questions involved his efforts to construct and pass health care reform (in between was a question on financial regulatory overhauls). The question that ended up getting the most attention, however, would be the very last, when Obama responded to a request for comment on the arrest of Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. at his Cambridge home by suggesting the officer had acted stupidly.

It would take a week for that micro-scandal to die down, and only after the officer, Gates and Obama met at the White House for a beer summit to talk things over.

Jim Young/Reuters

The infamous beer summit.

For Obamas staff, the challenge quickly became figuring out which crises were real and which were ephemeral. Sometimes, they arguably made matters worse, like informally blacklisting Fox News amid a torrent of conspiratorial coverage from its then-host and chalkboard aficionado Glenn Beck or elevating talk show host Rush Limbaugh as the face of the GOP in 2009 rather than dismissing him outright.

But on the whole, Obamas aides learned to distinguish between the substance and the noise. They also figured out which battles to pick and which to avoid. Obama, for example, became notably more deliberate about addressing racial issues following the beer summit because, aides said, he recognized that his involvement often only further polarized matters.

The problem was, Obama had pledged to lower the noise and not simply skate around it. And as time went on, it became increasingly malignant. A congressman could scream you lie at the president during a bicameral event and raise a quick million dollars in donations. End-of-life consultations could be depicted as death panels not only on the conservative fringe, but byRepublican senatorsthe White House was trying to woo. And a reality television star could push a racist conspiracy theory about the presidents birthplace and, instead of being laughed off the air, turn it into a foundation for a White House bid.

Dan Pfeiffer, the presidents longtime aide, argued that the key element in all this was a political media culture that not only enjoyed the spectacle but profited from it. One reason that the White House ultimately decided to release Obamas birth certificate in April 2011, for example, was because aides felt they couldnt move past Trumps provocations during the daily briefing.

I remember that period very well, because there was a lot of real serious shit happening in the world, a European financial crisis, and the economy was in a bad place, Pfeiffer told HuffPost last fall. But Donald Trump kept going on TV and he would make these claims, and it was treated as: Well, Trump says this. It wasnt with great scrutiny. He was being given a bullhorn to shout racist shit without being called on it.

While it became clearer that childish things werent going away, the president still attempted to forge through them. For months, he searched around for a Republican to support his health care bill, to no avail. He made an abrupt shift from Keynesian stimulus to deficit reduction to calm his conservative critics in 2010. And in the summer of 2011, he sought a grand bargain on entitlements and taxes with then-House Speaker John Boehner (R-Ohio) when there was little indication that Boehner would, or could, ever get his caucus to go along. Sure enough, the deal fell apart, replaced by a series of sharp and indiscriminate budget cuts known as sequestration.

Larry Downing/Reuters

Barack Obama and John Boehner during the 2011 debt ceiling negotiations.

The presidents closest aides were fond of saying that the GOP fever would eventually break, first after Republicans won control of the House in 2010, then after they lost the election in 2012, and finally after they shut down the government in 2013. But it never did. And eventually, Obama went his own route, famously deploying his pen and phone strategy of executive and administrative actions.

For his close advisers and friends, it is a testament to Obamas character that he continued believing, up until that moment, that Washington could, indeed, change its stripes. But even they recognize that his earlier reluctance to acknowledge that childish things would remain was not without sacrifice that the pursuit of comity sometimes came at the cost of sound messaging and policy.

No one can look back eight years and say we couldnt have done a better job somewhere, given the outcome, said Anita Dunn, Obamas former adviser. The policies will stand the test of time, the presidents personal standing is high as he leaves office (as it should be), but somewhere along the way, too many people stopped seeing the Democratic Party as relentlessly focused on improving the economy and their lives, which opened the door for Donald Trump.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/07/09/obama-wanted-to-end-childish-things-in-washington-instead-he-got-trump/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/162764993337

[allofbeercom]

Obama Wanted To End ‘Childish Things’ In Washington. Instead, He Got Trump.

On a frigid day in January 2009, after the chief justice of the Supreme Court bungled the oath of office, Barack Obama delivered his inaugural address to a crowd of millions and implored them to understand the gravity of the moment.

The time for recriminations and worn-out dogmas had ended, the president declared, in a nod to the bitter campaign that had just concluded and the crumbling U.S. economy he was inheriting. We remain a young nation. But in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things.

Eight years later, the economy has improved. But those childish things very much remain, and they have clouded Obamas swan song in office and complicated his legacy.

As Obama prepared for his final speech last week in his hometown of Chicago, his successor, Donald Trumpa reality television host with little grasp of policy issues, save a desire to upend much of his predecessors agenda faced accusations that hed watched Russian prostitutes urinate on his hotel bed.

It is an inharmonious and depressing bookend to the Obama years, which will be defined by historic legislative achievements, relentless partisanship and the fusion of media, entertainment and governance. And for many veterans of the administration, that failure to move beyond the immaterial distractions and endless squabbles that often consume politics is the sore spot of his legacy.

The toxicity of the environment here, we were not able to change. That doesnt mean it cant change in the future. It just means we fell short of where we hoped to go. Valerie Jarrett, senior adviser to President Barack Obama

We were not as successful as we hoped we would be [in changing the culture of Washington], said Obamas longtime senior adviser, Valerie Jarrett, in an interview. But I will say this: Notwithstanding that, we still made enormous progress here. We were able to get some extraordinary accomplishments done that have benefited our country. But the toxicity of the environment here, we were not able to change. That doesnt mean it cant change in the future. It just means we fell short of where we hoped to go.

Though it is dwarfed by his legislative successes, Obamas inability to change the culture of Washington is no small failure. It was the keystone to his 2008 campaign, and arguably the main ingredient in his upset primary win over Hillary Clinton and his general election triumph over John McCain.

But for some Democrats, the notion that childish things could ever be truly set aside was always a touch naive. Howard Dean, who chaired the Democratic National Committee when Obama first ran, recalled a conversation the two had after Obama had secured the Democratic nomination.

He said, Im through the hardest part now, Dean recalled Obama saying. And I said, If you think that, you have another thing coming. These guys are ruthless and their only mission is that you dont succeed.

To a large degree, Dean was the more prescient of the pair. The night of Obamas inauguration, House Republicans dined with top operatives, plotting how to put the brakes on his agenda and win back power. Months later, Republican leadership announced their opposition to the Recovery Actbefore Obama had even finished a meeting to pitch the economic stimulus package to members of Congress. It was a sharp and early illustration of the GOP id. The fact that it took Obama years to recognize it as such, his aides now concede, was a strategic miscalculation.

But it wasnt just the knee-jerk opposition of Republicans that confounded the Obama White House. A host of distractions and quasi-scandals during those early months and years proved maddening as well. There was the absurd cable catnip, like the infamous terrorist fist jab that Obama exchanged with his wife; the partisan-hyped controversies, like the conservative talk radio complaints over the presidents efforts to secure the Olympic Games in Chicago; and the rhetorical missteps that sucked the oxygen out of the room.

None were quite as memorable as what transpired on June 22, 2009. That day, Obama gave a press conference in which 12 of the first 14 questions involved his efforts to construct and pass health care reform (in between was a question on financial regulatory overhauls). The question that ended up getting the most attention, however, would be the very last, when Obama responded to a request for comment on the arrest of Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. at his Cambridge home by suggesting the officer had acted stupidly.

It would take a week for that micro-scandal to die down, and only after the officer, Gates and Obama met at the White House for a beer summit to talk things over.

Jim Young/Reuters

The infamous beer summit.

For Obamas staff, the challenge quickly became figuring out which crises were real and which were ephemeral. Sometimes, they arguably made matters worse, like informally blacklisting Fox News amid a torrent of conspiratorial coverage from its then-host and chalkboard aficionado Glenn Beck or elevating talk show host Rush Limbaugh as the face of the GOP in 2009 rather than dismissing him outright.

But on the whole, Obamas aides learned to distinguish between the substance and the noise. They also figured out which battles to pick and which to avoid. Obama, for example, became notably more deliberate about addressing racial issues following the beer summit because, aides said, he recognized that his involvement often only further polarized matters.

The problem was, Obama had pledged to lower the noise and not simply skate around it. And as time went on, it became increasingly malignant. A congressman could scream you lie at the president during a bicameral event and raise a quick million dollars in donations. End-of-life consultations could be depicted as death panels not only on the conservative fringe, but byRepublican senatorsthe White House was trying to woo. And a reality television star could push a racist conspiracy theory about the presidents birthplace and, instead of being laughed off the air, turn it into a foundation for a White House bid.

Dan Pfeiffer, the presidents longtime aide, argued that the key element in all this was a political media culture that not only enjoyed the spectacle but profited from it. One reason that the White House ultimately decided to release Obamas birth certificate in April 2011, for example, was because aides felt they couldnt move past Trumps provocations during the daily briefing.

I remember that period very well, because there was a lot of real serious shit happening in the world, a European financial crisis, and the economy was in a bad place, Pfeiffer told HuffPost last fall. But Donald Trump kept going on TV and he would make these claims, and it was treated as: Well, Trump says this. It wasnt with great scrutiny. He was being given a bullhorn to shout racist shit without being called on it.

While it became clearer that childish things werent going away, the president still attempted to forge through them. For months, he searched around for a Republican to support his health care bill, to no avail. He made an abrupt shift from Keynesian stimulus to deficit reduction to calm his conservative critics in 2010. And in the summer of 2011, he sought a grand bargain on entitlements and taxes with then-House Speaker John Boehner (R-Ohio) when there was little indication that Boehner would, or could, ever get his caucus to go along. Sure enough, the deal fell apart, replaced by a series of sharp and indiscriminate budget cuts known as sequestration.

Larry Downing/Reuters

Barack Obama and John Boehner during the 2011 debt ceiling negotiations.

The presidents closest aides were fond of saying that the GOP fever would eventually break, first after Republicans won control of the House in 2010, then after they lost the election in 2012, and finally after they shut down the government in 2013. But it never did. And eventually, Obama went his own route, famously deploying his pen and phone strategy of executive and administrative actions.

For his close advisers and friends, it is a testament to Obamas character that he continued believing, up until that moment, that Washington could, indeed, change its stripes. But even they recognize that his earlier reluctance to acknowledge that childish things would remain was not without sacrifice that the pursuit of comity sometimes came at the cost of sound messaging and policy.

No one can look back eight years and say we couldnt have done a better job somewhere, given the outcome, said Anita Dunn, Obamas former adviser. The policies will stand the test of time, the presidents personal standing is high as he leaves office (as it should be), but somewhere along the way, too many people stopped seeing the Democratic Party as relentlessly focused on improving the economy and their lives, which opened the door for Donald Trump.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/07/09/obama-wanted-to-end-childish-things-in-washington-instead-he-got-trump/

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Ben Carson: could he be the answer to Republicans’ youth problem?

The retired neurosurgeons stimulating life history and non-politician status are key glean for millennials, facilitating see him Facebooks most followed candidate

The younger generation is tired of the typical politician, suggests 17 -year-old Megan Cox, explaining why she came to see Ben Carson with her mom, aunt and cousin in Spartanburg, South Carolina.

We interpret the stereotypical politician as more of exactly a figurehead, kind of bogus and so the fact that he is not a busines politician is a reaping point.

Like many who have come to see Carson speak at Wofford College, she says she was aware of, and motivated by, the mentality surgeons life story long before he embarked ranging for president. So far the seeming divergences in that story havent dissuaded them.

Millennials approximately defined as being born between the early 1980 s and early 2000 s make up its significant voting bloc. Its reckoned they will constitute a third of the vote in the 2016 election. Its the working group Republican ought to have struggling to allure. In 2012, 67% of 18- to 29 -year-olds voted for Barack Obama, compared with simply 30% for Mitt Romney.

Carson has so far proved to be something of a hit with this group, however. In May he topped a poll of those aged 18 -2 9, to be organized by Harvard Universitys Institute of Politics, as the most wonderful GOP candidate. In a September survey by Chegg, Carson was preceding his Republican competitives among college students.

Seeing Carson speak in person, at Woffords Benjamin Johnson arena in Spartanburg, it is not immediately obvious why he has such petition. Observers of the Republican dialogues will be accustomed to his toned-down accomplishments eyes half shut, spokesperson soft, pate bent but on theatre, talking to a gang of about 1,000 beings, he seems even lower-energy.

Ive been spending a lot of era boning up on material, Carson tells the audience, having only returned from a trip to Jordan. Carson toured refugee camps and met aid workers on site visits, in an attempt to bolster his foreign policy credentials.

Hes organized a move demonstrate for the students.

Syria, reads a entitle at the top of the first slither. There is a map of Syria and the countries encircling it. Syria is in red.

Population: 17 m, suggests a missile point.

There are pictures of Carson meeting dislodged Syrians. There is more room in the refugee camps, he responds. The US neednt accept anyone just yet.

Carson segues into something more like a stump communication, speeding slowly across the stage. He talks of the need to return to Judeo-Christian values. He talks about beings expecting him why he would enter politics after such a wonderful busines in medication. He utilises two handwriting gestures: embraced together, as if in devotion, and harboured apart, palms facing one another, like a serviceman describing the dimensions of the a fish he formerly caught.

More Facebook partisans than Bernie Sanders

A 2 December Quinnipiac ballot showed that Carson has fallen behind Trump, the two having been neck-and-neck since early November, and is tied with Marco Rubio and Ted Cruz for second place. Before he travelled to the Middle East he compared Syrian refugees to rabid hounds, which may not have helped.

But there are other indications of his notoriety. Carson has 4. 9 million adherents on Facebook. Thats more than Hillary Clinton and Trump. It is even more than Bernie Sanders, supposedly the millennial sweetheart.

Wofford hosted a GOP presidential conversation in 2011, and hosts the Hipp lecture series established by a former chairman of the South Carolina Republican party on national insurance. This is not a liberal campus, but still caters an interesting barometer of boy supporting. Talking to students it becomes clear that a big part of Carsons success is his life story. It was particularly helpful that many of them have contemplated this life story in school.

When I took anatomy last year we watched the Gifted Hands movie, does Cox.

I had no clue that he was interested in politics at all but the facts of the case that his life story, becoming a surgeon, and that he did inadequately in grade school and defeat that and went to Yale overcoming that is very important to me because it shows you a hard worker and he wasnt simply sided everything on a silver platter.

Isaiah Addison, a 21 -year-old Wofford student who is originally from Killeen, Texas, has an virtually identical fib.

Before he even was guiding Id looked at him as a role model, Addison says.

Hes actually one of the reasons why Im a neuroscience major right now here at Wofford. When I was in high school I actually watched the movie Gifted Hands and it genuinely transformed me on to wanting to know more about how the brain works.

Abbey Bedenbaugh is the chief representative for Ben Carsons campaign at Wofford. She didnt examine the movie Gifted Hands which stars Cuba Gooding Jr as Carson, and has a 7.8 -star rating on IMDB but read the book on which it was based.

Thats when I started to follow him and his employment, Bedenbaugh says.

His story, how he grew up. What he did to overcome obstacles in his childhood. How he merely continued to pursue what he adored no matter what obstacles he faced.

Bedenbaugh is 18 years old and is studying chemistry. She has only been campaigning for Carson for two weeks but has ever been signing up abundance of students. Like Cox, Addison, and many others, the tale of Carsons success is a big draw.

His popularity with boys is not lost on Carsons campaign. They have set up a Students for Carson program and are present on 3,900 college campuses.

As for reaching out to this demographic, our campaign believes it is incredibly important, enunciates Ying Ma, Carsons deputy communications director.

They aim to increase the number of sections to captivate more young people and get them campaigning on Carsons behalf.

As for his appeal: They visualize an authentic, accomplished individual who is willing to speak the truth and offering real solutions, Ma says.

Unconditional support

But Carsons back story the wayward boy who may or may not “ve been trying to” jabbed a sidekick before noting God and becoming a world-renowned intelligence surgeon has already become something of a millstone over the past weeks. Correspondents have been unable to find anyone to corroborate Carsons account of has become a teenage tearaway.

No one who knew a youthful Carson seems to remember him as a brutal child, let alone one who would attempt to attack his own mother with a hammer or stab a sidekick. Similarly, Carsons claims that he was offered a award to West Point armed establishment, and that he was deemed the most honest student in his class at Yale, have proved to be inaccurate.

You might expect that this would alienate those who were attracted by Carsons story and franknes. But the people I speak to seem prepared to give him a pass.

It does “i m feeling” heartbreaking but every person is a human, everyone moves missteps, Bedenbaugh tells. Not everyone is perfect all the time. Even Ben Carson.

In the Benjamin Johnson arena, Carson moves on to a question-and-answer discussion. His foreign policy boning up is evident, although he seems a bit over-eager to indicate it. At periods he sounds like a student hoping for additional points.

Asked about King Abdullah of Jordan, Carson describes him as a very honorable humanity. He pauses for a second before adding: he was a fighter captain. He talks about Russia and mentions the Baltic basin. And Im not talking about the Balkans, he illuminates, for no self-evident conclude other than to emphasize that he knows the difference between the two.

The event is brought to a shut. The predominantly young gathering have enjoyed the evening. Carson gets a standing ovation. Students snap photos as he ripples from the stage. “Theres” voluntaries outside, waiting to sign up new boosters. Evaluating by the response, they will probably do quite well.

The Carson campaign will be pleased. But as people begin to file out, there is a reminder that the electorate is also possible fickle.

At the extremely top of one of the realm sitting banks groupings of students are locked in exchange. I climb up and ask them why they substantiate Ben Carson.

Oh we dont, one says. We get extra ascribes for coming.

Read more: www.theguardian.com

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How dropping acid saved my life

When writer Ayelet Waldman fell into depression she started microdosing with LSD. She tells Rachel Cooke about her extraordinary experiment with acid

Some time ago for reasons that will become apparent I am not allowed to say when, exactly the American writer Ayelet Waldman scored some LSD. She did this, not on a street corner or via the dark web, but middle-class style, through an acquaintance of an acquaintance, for which reason the drug arrived at her home in Berkeley, California, in a stamp-encrusted brown paper package whose sender (an elderly professor, she believed) identified himself only as Lewis Carroll, a fellow resident of her town. Mr Carroll had, however, troubled to write her a brief note. Our lives may be no more than dewdrops on a summer morning, it said. But surely, it is better that we sparkle while we are here. The bottle he enclosed contained 50 drops of vintage quality LSD, of which he advised her to take two at a time. Waldman was delighted. Not to put too fine a point on it, she believed this drug might save her life.

For as long as she can remember, Waldman has been held hostage by her moods. When she is up, she is up; when she is down, she is down. These highs and lows she has managed over the years with the help of therapy and a number of drugs, with which she has had varying degrees of success. At the time of the parcels arrival, though, she had entered a new and much more scary phase.

I was so profoundly depressed, she says. It wasnt the kind of depression where you fall into bed. Ive been through that before, and while its grim, its manageable. This was more of a mixed state, a kind of activated depression, and thats a dangerous place to be. I was doing everything I could to ruin my own life. I was afraid that if I stayed on that track, I would force my husband to leave me, and that I would probably attempt suicide and being a very capable person, I dont think a failed attempt was on the cards.

It was while she was in this state of mind that she stumbled on The Psychedelic Explorers Guide, by the psychologist and writer James Fadiman, who since 2010 has been collecting reports from individuals who have experimented with regular microdosing of LSD and psilocybin, a naturally occurring chemical found in a variety of mushrooms. Fadimans book is certainly not the result of a scientific research project; there has never been an officially sanctioned study of microdosing.

Here comes happiness: Ayelet Waldman at home. Photograph: Barry J Holmes for the Observer

But the people whose accounts it gathered together spoke repeatedly of experiencing, thanks to LSD, increased focus and better mood. They reported rarely losing their tempers, and becoming more fun to be with. None, moreover, had suffered any side effects. To put it simply, they went to bed feeling they had enjoyed that most elusive of things: a really good day. As Waldman read on, she grew envious. How she needed to have one of those! Was this her glimmer of hope? She thought it might be.

Waldman contacted Fadiman, and received a memo entitled To a Potential Self-Study Psychedelic Researcher. The protocol was simple. In order to participate in his international self-study group on the effects of sub-perceptual doses of LSD, she should take a microdose of the drug every third day. The suggested dose was a minuscule 10 micrograms, one 10th or less of what a person would have to take in order to experience an altered state of consciousness (ie to trip).

Meanwhile, she should lead life as normal, pausing only to record her moods, productivity and physical symptoms. Did this sound to be blunt preposterous? It did. Waldman is a middle-aged mother of four who, in addition to writing novels, lectures on the criminal justice system (she is a Harvard-educated former lawyer). As someone who is law-abiding and swotty, nothing in the world irritates her more than hippies, slackers, free spirits. Even people who wont stay on the right hand side of escalators drive her nuts. Ken Kesey she is not. But she was suffering. She had nothing to lose. Why shouldnt she try it, just for a month?

Having found a supplier, then, she did indeed begin taking the drug, an experience she has now recorded in her own book A Really Good Day: How Microdosing Made a Mega Difference in My Mood, My Marriage, and My Life. Its publication is certain to cause controversy. In fact, the madness has already begun. When we speak via Skype, a month or so before it arrives in bookshops, she tells me that only a few days earlier an excitable reporter got in touch to inform her that his editor had given him permission to drop acid with Ayelet Waldman. (Her response to his question about when they might schedule this journalistic endeavour was: Like, never.)

Loved up: Waldman and husband Michael Chabon. Photograph: Albert L Ortega/WireImage

Attitudes to drugs in America are irrespective of those states that have legalised cannabis far from liberal. Trump has appointed to the Department of Justice a war-on-drugs advocate [the Alabama senator, Jeff Sessions] who is so retrograde in his thinking, he believes the US suffers from an under-incarceration problem, she says. Its for this reason that she wont reveal when her experiment ended: there is a three-year statute of limitations on drugs charges. Do I think a white, middle-class lady will be high on his list of targets? No. But in this crazy new world we live in, you cant be too careful.

Its reception will also doubtless be muddied by the fact that she is its author. In America, Waldman is well known as an acclaimed writer in her own right and as the wife of the Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist Michael Chabon, to whom she has been married since 1993. When she writes about herself, moreover and this is something she does a great deal in A Really Good Day people have a tendency to respond with unnerving fury.

Most famously, this was the case in 2005, when the New York Times published her essay Motherlove, in which she declared that she loved her husband more than her children (If a good mother is one who loves her child more than anyone else in the world, I am not a good mother. I am in fact a bad mother.) In the days that followed, ABCs daytime show The View hosted an unaccountably vitriolic debate about Waldman, her neighbours could be heard tearing her to shreds in Starbucks, and her inbox filled with emails from strangers threatening to report her to social services, the better that her children might be taken away.

Waldman is clever and funny and open-hearted. But as she readily admits, even her more sympathetic readers may sometimes have cause to wonder, in the case of A Really Good Day, which aspects of her behaviour her compulsion to tell the world things that others might prefer to keep private among them are simply the result of her personality, and which can be attributed to her illness. It is hard to distinguish between them, she says, almost wonderingly.

Still, she is probably better placed, now, to cope with any onslaught. Waldman is no longer using LSD her experiment really did last for only a month but its effects have, in some ways, been lasting. I miss its anti-depressant quality, and I miss the way it made me focus. It was like Ritalin [a drug commonly prescribed in the US to children with ADHD] without the side effects, which is frankly incredible. But that month got me out of a dark place. Within the first couple of doses, it was like the computer of my brain had been restarted. I was still moody. I had some really good days, but there were also crappy days, and days when it was just the normal shit. Somehow, though, the bad days were not hellish days, and so I had the capacity to work on issues I just couldnt before. Sure, I was hoping for joy. What I got instead was enough distance from the pain I was in to work on the things that were causing it.

Expand your mind: 1960s LSD advocate Dr Timothy Leary, who advised us to turn on, tune in, drop out. Photograph: AP

That work continues. Im still not on an even keel. Im still struggling with my moods. But Im committed to that. Im doing a new kind of therapy that is working quite well, even if not quite so well as it might be if I was still microdosing. If someone sends her a mean tweet in the coming weeks, she is unlikely to respond as venomously as she might once have done, or even at all.

Given its benign effect on her, why didnt she just find herself a new supplier, and continue taking it? There were, she says, two reasons. The first was her complete inability to purchase illegal drugs: towards the end of her book, she describes how, having made contact by text with a dealer, she panics, having convinced herself that Lucy is a police informant. The second was her determination to write a book about her experience: for that to be safe, she had to no longer be using.

If I could have overcome those things, there is no doubt in my mind that I would have carried on. Of course, it might not have kept working; Ive been on medication before that seemed to be working, and then wasnt. But if it was to be made legal, Id be the first in the queue, and I periodically remind myself that, if I get desperate again, I do have the option.

Her book is well-researched and, in the matter of LSD itself, careful and no-nonsense. The drug, a variation on the ergotamine molecule (ergot is the fungus responsible for the disease known in the Middle Ages as St Anthonys Fire) which was first synthesised in Basel in 1938 by Dr Albert Hofmann, has, she argues, an undeservedly bad reputation. The scare stories it trails of young men and women whose LSD hallucinations lead them to jump off high buildings have little basis in reality. Rather, they are largely the result of conservative Americas response to the 1960s counterculture, to Timothy Learys suggestion that people turn on, tune in, drop out. Twenty million people have used it in the US, and millions more around the world, with no ill effects at all.

Its complicated, but when it comes to the drugs possible use in the treatment of mental illness, what you need to know is that LSD stimulates the 5-HT2A serotonin receptor, which in turn leads to the stimulation both of brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF), something a pharmacologist described to her as like Miracle-Gro for the brain It stimulates growth, connections, and activity, and of glutamate, the neurotransmitter most responsible for brain functions, such as cognition, learning and memory. (Hence its supposed new-found popularity in Silicon Valley, though Waldman thinks that, in reality, there are more magazine articles about tech dudes using LSD than there are, well, tech dudes using LSD: If there were some mass secret movement, it would have been a lot easier for to get hold of my drugs.)

She believes that during her experiment her neuroplasticity was enhanced, and that this didnt only enable her to work for hours at a time, to achieve a real sense of flow at her desk, but that it also made her happier and less impulsive. What little research has been done backs her up a study at Imperial College London showed that even a single dose of LSD produced robust psychological effects though scientists still dont fully understand the relationship between what happens in the brain, and the psyche.

Why isnt more research carried out? The simple truth is that LSD still carries with it a lot of leftover political baggage. During the writing of her book, the few researchers sanctioned by the FDA (Food & Drug Administration) who are out there were reluctant to allow Waldman to quote them, fearing that to associate themselves with a personal experiment would tarnish their hard-won credibility.

So far, so good. However, when her book is on more personal territory, as it frequently is, Waldman is vastly less cautious, and for the reader especially, perhaps, the British reader this can be, well, excruciating. I know! she says, when I tell her this. Can you imagine what it would be like for me if I lived in London? Chabon, a feminist with whom she shares the childcare, has the power of veto over everything she writes. But because hes a writer, too, this seems not to be something he often invokes. In A Really Good Day, nothing is out of bounds, from their agonising couples therapy (My husbands eyes filled I collapsed in his arms, crying so hard I soaked his shirt), to their sex life (I know you love me, I said, as we made love), to their periodic use of MDMA, aka ecstasy, as a way of opening up their lines of connection. What we did was talk, she writes, of the first time they tried it, in a hotel room theyd booked specifically for the purpose. For six hours, we talked about our feelings for each other, why we love each other, how we loved each other.

Waldman reveals that her moods can be triggered by everything from her writerly insecurities, to the dog, to the sound of her husband eating nuts (she suffers from misophonia, or selective sound sensitivity syndrome): I handed him a handful of almonds, and walked out of the kitchen I heard a crunch, the smack of lips; I felt a wave of anger. She is also fed up that her husband earns more than her, and that she has to share his writing studio, which has an uncomfortable couch: Though hes welcomed me in, I feel like a girlfriend whos been given a drawer in the bachelor pad bathroom. Poor Michael Chabon. The reader begins to feel he is some kind of saint.

Well, he is somewhat saintly, Waldman says. He makes my friends crazy. He gives great gifts. He has impeccable taste in clothes and jewellery. He is a know-it-all, but then, he does sort of know everything. Hes misanthropic, in that we [the family] are all he has space for; he doesnt have any close friends, which I think he would benefit from. I was about to say that hes far better than I deserve, but thats the pathology speaking, because I am a very good wife for him.

Isnt he ever mean to her? Yeah, sure he is. He encouraged her to embark on LSD experiment because he was desperate, too.

Before we hang up, I have to ask: does she ever worry her extraordinarily intense relationship with Chabon on Twitter she has been known to post pictures of her husband, along with a line informing her 15,800 followers just how much she loves him might be another symptom of her illness? For the first time in our conversation, she is hesitant. The gale of her voice drops to a light breeze.

Yeah, I have thought about this. I have said to him: If I were to get healthy, would I still love you, and would you still love me? There is a way that Ive confused needing with loving. I dont want to sound like a Hallmark card, but love is [supposed to be] unselfish, and in my most internal, whirling dark places, I think I need him so badly because he takes care of me, protects me, makes me feel safe. One of the things that saved our marriage in that [dark] period was when I brutally tried to disentangle those things.

The upshot is that she thinks, now, perhaps its OK to need him. After the LSD, when I was having this intense new therapy, I took a drive one night in northern California, where the countryside is very beautiful. I had this thought: maybe I dont love him after all. It was terrifying, and I was crying. But then the phone rang, and it was him. How did she feel then? His voice filled me like a glass of water.

People have been curious, even excited: an extract from A Really Good Day

A fewdays ago, I began tentatively to tell people about this experiment. To my surprise, I encountered few negative reactions. Every once in a while a listener might arch an eyebrow or smile uncomfortably, as if trying to figure out whether her discomfort meant that she wasnt hip enough, or whether I really was nuts. But those have been in the decided minority. Most people have been curious, even excited.

Those with histories of mood disorders were intrigued to hear that my spirits have lifted, that though I sometimes feel the familiar clutch of anxiety in my chest, I am generally able to use mindfulness techniques to make it dissolve. When I told them that I have not gained weight and that my libido has not withered away, they got really excited. The side effects of SSRIs are so ubiquitous and unpleasant that the idea of a medication protocol with fewer of them is thrilling.

Friends who incline to the spiritual were disappointed when they heard that Ive experienced no connection to the divine, but reassured when I mention the pleasure Ive taken in the natural world, the tree outside my window, the smell of the jasmine beside the city sidewalks. Risk takers and hedonists were disappointed that I was unable to provide details of hallucinations. No kaleidoscopic colours, they asked wistfully, no feeling that the floor was shifting beneath your feet? I live in California. The last thing I want to feel is the floor shifting beneath my feet. They urged me to try a real dose. It would change my life, they said, as though my problem is that my life has been too devoid of weirdness. Besides, my life is changing.

Tonight, however, was a different story. These two writer friends are about 20 years older than my husband and me, which puts them firmly in the boomer generation. They were in their 20s in the 1960s. Theyve travelled the world, rejected a life of secure conformity in favour of the risks and rewards of art. What better people to confide in? I thought.

Well, I said, Ive been writing, but not working on a novel. Ive been writing about microdosing with LSD.

What does that mean, the woman of the pair asked? Are you writing some kind of nonfiction article on people who use LSD?

I took a breath and then explained.

Her face froze. If she had been wearing pearls, she would have clutched them. She looked horrified, even disgusted, as if Id told her that Id taken up murdering baby seals. Her husbands reaction was only slightly less disturbing. He smiled uncomfortably and changed the subject. I immediately agreed, yes, the antipasto was delicious, and, no, I didnt want any more.

Their reaction launched a series of cascading anxieties. Will I be condemned for doing this? Will people reject me as a nutcase, a crank, a deluded acid freak? Will I lose whatever credibility I have in the world? Will parents not let their children come over to our house any more, under the misapprehension that I keep drugs in my home?

As soon as dinner was over, I tried the technique for dissipating anxiety that my cognitive behavioural therapist recommends. I took a few deep breaths, exhaling for half again as long as I inhaled. My chest and throat unclenched. The anxiety ebbed. I was calm again. I was OK.

Also, I had some perspective. This couple were young in the 1960s, when Timothy Leary was spreading the gospel of psychedelic recklessness. For all I know, they had complicated histories with the drug that influenced how they responded to me. In all likelihood, their discomfort had far more to do with them than with me.

A Really Good Day: How Microdosing Made a Mega Difference in My Mood, My Marriage, and My Life by Ayelet Waldman is published by Corsair at 13.99. To order a copy, go to bookshop.theguardian.com

Read more: http://bit.ly/2i5NhJg

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