#you are a human being and you deserve empathy and respect at the absolute minimum

[pfhwrittes]

i said this on my other blog but if any of you (but especially any one who is an addict) needs an open ear to talk to, i’m here.

if you relapsed last night/today, i love you.

if you white knuckled your sobriety last night/today and you’re exhausted, i love you.

if you wobbled or felt doubt or had that fleeting thought of “just one to take the edge off” and feel guilty and ashamed, i love you.

i love you and i want you to be kind to yourself. you deserve love. you deserve comfort. you deserve kindness.

[rewrite-the-wrongs]

introductions / howdy, pardner

My first short story was about a fishboy and his human best friend. They battled a mutant piranha (whose name I think may have been Mutant Piranha, such was the monumental daring of my creative endeavor) and his army, who were out to destroy a mountain that held a whole planet together. The boys won singlehandedly, because scale was apparently a bit of a mystery to me.

This was the second grade. My teacher--who held me every day as I cried for weeks, confused and miserable and stranded in the throes of my parents’ divorce--understood before I did that I create to a ploddingly slow and steady drumbeat. A sentence is always so much more in my head than I’m able to let out, at first; I have to pore over it again and again, fleshing and flourishing (and often correcting) it, the same way I often have to reread paragraphs or pages or whole books to truly capture their meaning. In a word processor, this back-and-forth is as easily said as it is done; on double-wide ruled paper with dashed-line handwriting guides, the task is magnitudes more time-consuming, especially for somebody as messy as I am. So, while nearly everybody else played at recess on the sandlot and the jungle gym around us, a select few stragglers laid our reading folders on our laps and finished our stories.

My villain, that dastardly Mutant Piranha, found himself in prison at the story’s close. Awaiting trial, I guess; I never ventured that far ahead, seeing the big fishy bastard for a coward. “When no one was looking, he stabbed himself.” That’s the last line, stuck in my memory, not for its own sake, but for my poor teacher’s horrified face as she read my final draft there on the playground.

A mom volunteered to type up the class’ stories and get them printed and bound. For years afterward I reread that collection, always proud to have written the second-longest piece therein. I felt the weight of the pages, inhaled the tiny but acrid breeze that came from rapidly leafing through them. Knew it was a whole smattering of worlds inside, that one of those worlds was wholly mine, and I had the power to show it to people however I wished. Yes, I thought, I want this.

*

I’ve been introduced to writing many times over, by many people. Don’t get me wrong--I nightowled the first several chapters to many half-baked novel concepts all through my youth. But teachers have a way of showing a thing to you from new angles.

The first person to impact me as such was a high school teacher who was essentially given carte-blanche to construct a creative writing workshop in the English curriculum. The first semester was structured--you practiced poems, short fiction, humor and essay writing, drama, the gamut. Every semester after, the carte-blanche was passed on: A single assignment due a week, each a single draft of a poem or a minimum of two pages’ worth of prose. Forty-five minutes a day to work, and of course free time at home. By the time I graduated, I’d finagled my schedule such that I was spending two periods a day in the computer lab, and several hours after school every day working the literary arts magazine before I went home to get the rest of my homework out of the way and write some more..

My next big influence came in the form of  a pair of writers who taught fiction at my university, a married couple. One had me print stories and literally, physically cut them up section-by-section as a method of reworking chronologies. Told me stories happened like engines or clocks or programs--pieces that meshed differently depending on how they were put together, rules that held each other in place. The other showed boundless confidence in me, listened happily to some older students who recommended I be brought on board for a national arts mag. They both encouraged me toward grad school, but toward the end of my junior year I began to stumble, and by senior year I was, to be frank, a drunken asshole. Time I could be bothered to set aside for writing began to dwindle. I limped through the editorship with the help of my extremely talented, utterly more-than-worthy successor--and come to think of it, I’ve never truly thanked her. Maybe I’ll send her that message, now that I’m feeling more myself.

*

On feeling more myself:

That drunken rage was brought on by a myriad list of factors, the primary ones being 1) I am the child of recovering alcoholics, and our inherited family trauma runs deep, 2) An assault that will likely be mentioned no further from hereon in, as I have reached a solid level of catharsis about it, 3) Some toxic-ass relationship issues, and 4) I was a massive egg and had no idea (or, really, I had some idea, just not the language or understanding or even the proper empathy to eloquently and effectively explore it).

I had a recent relapse with drinking, technically--a mimosa at Christmas breakfast at my partner’s parents’ home--but I’m not honestly sure I can call it a legitimate relapse. I’m not in any official self-help group, I’ve never engaged in the twelve steps or a professional rehabilitation. I had a very wonderful therapist for a few years but reached a point at which I could not pay her any longer and we parted ways--I miss her dearly, as she truly became my friend and confidante; she was the first person I came out to, and very well-equipped to handle it, lucky for me--but I’m still on behavioral medication. That tiny smidgen of alcohol pushed my antidepressants right out of my brain, and I became terribly anxious and angry and sad all at once, and briefly lashed out during a conversation with my partner behind closed doors. Not nearly the lashing out I’ve released in the now-distant past--more on that maybe-never, but who knows, as I am obviously a chronic over-sharer.

Frankly, I don’t deserve my partner. She endured my past abuses, told me to my face I had to be better, and found it in herself to wait for me to grow. She’s endlessly and tirelessly supportive of me. She sat with me to help me maintain the nerve to start this blog tonight. I came out to her as a trans woman just under a year ago, now, and I’m happier than ever, and we communicate better than ever. Our relationship is, bar-none, the healthiest and stablest and happiest I’ve ever been in.

So, naturally, I apologized fairly quickly at Christmas, and continuing where I’d left off at two and a half years, decided I’m still solid without booze.

If we’re all being honest, though (and I’m doing my best to be one hundred percent honest, here, though I will absolutely be censoring names because no shit), I still smoke way too much fuckin’ weed. High as balls, right now. 420 blaze it, all day erryday, bruh. That self-medicated ADHD life. I should be on Adderall and not antidepressants, probably, but it’s been a while since an appointment and psychiatrists are expensive, so I’m at where I’m at for now. Sativas help a lot. It helps with the dysphoria, too.

I don’t have a legal diagnosis for gender dysphoria, but tell that to my extreme urge to both be in and have a vagina. I’m making little changes--my hair, an outfit at a time, no longer policing how I walk or run or how much emphasis I put on S sounds. If I manage to come out to my parents sometime soon--and it feels like that moment is closer every day--maybe I’ll tell y’all my real, full chosen name. For right now, call me Easy.

*

Anyhow. My goals here are pretty simple:

1) Share words, both those by people I like/admire/sometimes know! and occasionally words I’ve made that I like. See the above screenshot from my notes app. Steal some words if you want, but if you manage to make money off some of mine, holler at ya gurl’s Venmo, yeah?

2) Discuss words, how they work, and how we create them, use them, engage with them, and ultimately make art of them. I am not a professional linguist, but I went to undergrad for creative writing, so, hey, I’ll have opinions and do my best to back them up with ideas from people smarter than I am.

3) Books! Read them, revisit them, quote them, talk about them, sometimes maybe even review them, if I’m feeling particularly bold. No writer can exist in a vacuum, and any writer who insists they don’t like to read is either a) dyslexic and prefers audiobooks or b) in serious need of switching to a communications major (no shade, but also definitely a little shade @corporate journalism).

5) I added this last, but I feel it’s less important than 4 and does not deserve bookend status, and I am verbose but incredibly lazy, so here I am, fucking with the system. Anyway: Art! Music! Video games! I fucking love them. I’ll talk about them, sometimes, too. Maybe I’ll finally do some of the ekphrastic work I’ve felt rattling around in my brain for a while now. Jade Cocoon 2′s Water Wormhole Forest, looking right the fuck at you.

6) Ah, shit, I did it again. Oh well. Last-but-not-last: This is obviously, in some ways, a diary, or a massive personal essay. I will sometimes discuss people, places, or experiences that have informed my work just the same as other people’s art has.

4) Be an unabashed and open Trans woman. TERFs, transphobes, ill-informed biological essentialists not permitted. Come at me and my girldick and prepare to be dunked on and subsequently shown the door via a swift and painful steel-toed kick in the ass. Everybody who doesn’t suck, if I screw up on any matter of socio-ethics or respect for diversity, please feel free to correct me.

*

Punk’s dead, but we’re a generation of motherfucking necromancers. Be gay, do crime, fight the patriarchy, and fart when you gotta. May the Great Old Ones select you to ascend to a higher plane and learn the terrible truths of existence.

Much love--

Easy

[thegeminisage]

i’m gonna liveblog my rewatch of 2.08 because i can

it’s stupid long so here’s the cut

just to give you an idea of how fast this switch flipped for me at the start of this episode when uther is like “u will find no one who embodies nobleness better than my son arthur” i went “PFFFFFT” & had a good chortle

i have a lot to say about this duel challenge sequence. 1. why are strangers always coming in and tossing their glove on the floor. everyone in that room is armed. just take them out! 2. arthur picks up the glove first this time, unlike 1.03. guess he can learn after all 3. he does it BEFORE SEEING HER FACE god classic he’s so fucking stupid

everyone getting their panties in a twist over having to fight a WOMAN when in reality she goes on to kick his ass is like...both tiresome & hilarious

i used to really be on the fence about the Vibe between merlin & arthur because while they seemed quite happy to die for one another from the get-go most of the time arthur is just being MEAN and merlin isn’t as mean back and it’s like :/ ok i don’t get what everyone else is so heart-eyes over. but in 2.08 they do a lot of confiding in one another and just general talking about plot-stuff where arthur’s insults are...not absent, but kept to a minimum, and idk it’s nice! it’s nice. less like arthur is a massive bully and more like they’re Companions. i’m not hopeful about it lasting bc this show doesn’t know the meaning of the words “consist continuity” but it was reeeeeaally good here

arthur’s face when he lost to a G I R L and uther just walked out with no comment. even back when i still hated him i was like “ouch”

that being said it was a welcome change of pace to see merlin giving ARTHUR shit for once. finally

upon morgause and morgana’s first meeting when morgause says “i hope you will remember me fondly” i went “WOW THAT’S GAY” because i didn’t KNOW and cathy told me later she had to put her head in her hands for five whole minutes. don’t shoot me i’m just the messenger they’re the ones who wrote it that way

my favorite thing about morgause is that i couldn’t immediately figure her out. i’m in the habit of throwing out guesses about future plot points for fun, because i’m a writer and that’s how i deconstruct things, and since this show was kind of meant to be kid-friendly i’m usually right. but as far as morgause went...i didn’t have a clue. i had NO IDEA this whole ep would be like this

i’ve said this before (not on this blog tho) but arthur is like...really eager to die. i keep joking that he has a death wish but upon further reflection i don’t think he’s actively seeking to end his life as much as he would be relieved to die for something noble like honor or whatever because then he would have...done it right, if that makes any sense, and wouldn’t have to worry about screwing it up anymore. he doesn’t want to die but he craves a good death. to prove to his dad and himself that he’s made of the right stuff?? i’m not being very clear. this concept requires more thought

it’s REALLY a lot for me that uther would rather throw arthur in his own chambers than have him find out about ygraine. yyyyikes

merlin sneaking in that rope was so cute. he finally got the group’s communal braincell for a few minutes

on the other hand after the troll episodes i am SO tired of dung being played for laughs. i really suffered

also man i’m so glad morgana finally got some sleep it’s what she deserves

this Dead Parent talk really mcmurdered me. both merlin and arthur lost a parent when they were very young & they now cannot remember said parent and we HAVE THAT IN COMMON so every single word they said was like an arrow straight to my heart!!!!!!! like as good as the ending to this episode was (and OH it was good OHHHHH it was GOOD) i think this right here is what truly softened me up towards arthur. this is relatability, this is emotional vulnerability, this is a genuine human connection made between EQUALS and frankly it’s exactly what i’ve been wanting from these guys for a season and a half. their willingness to die for each other is good stuff to be sure but it’s EMPTY without some meat to back it up & we’re finally getting what we deserve

“i’d do anything for even the vaguest memory” like they didn’t have to go that hard & read me for filth like that but they did. they did. arthur. babe. my guy.

almost every time someone comes in to speak with uther he’s eating and he has like an entire mini-banquet in front of him even though he’s all by himself. like, an entire plate of grapes, a whole-ass chicken, an intact loaf of bread, a bowl FILLED with whole uncut apples...wtf??

“what would YOU know about magic, merlin?” “nothing ;)” i did have a good chortle truly

i’ve already made my points about arthur and a good death but MAN he was hasty to put his head on that chopping block for no good fucking reason at all. holy shit. him casually doing that swing-thing he does with his sword to the axe ahead of time really adds a lot to this entire thing and also aged me ten years

when arthur was like “what if my father’s attitude towards magic is wrong” and “surely not everyone who practices magic can be evil” i gasped so fucking loud. so fucking loud

and the worst part is you can practically feel merlin’s heartbeat pick up. just LOOK at his “wtf am i hearing is this for real could my dreams actually come true” face. but at the same time, he’s got to be the one with a healthy suspicion here because arthur is in over his head. so he STILL can’t trust it. and then naturally it goes to hell so quickly that the chance for merlin to confide in arthur is lost. i can’t believe this took 4 irl years and five seasons. watching this live must have been like TORTURE. i’m practically bingeing it and i’m still suffering deeply

it’s very odd to me that arthur specifically said his mother died before he opened his eyes but the first thing ygraine says to him is that she remembers him staring up at her. to me that’s an obvious clue that she’s a fake, and the cutaway during that line to merlin’s face tells me he had the same suspicion (and that he’s kind of horrified by it)

ARTHUR FEELS SO GUILTY FOR HER DYING AND I’M ALSO DYING AND SLDFKMGHLSKDFJH

i know for a fact that ygraine’s telling of these events is slightly altered from the truth too...there’s no way that uther would have been so overcome with grief that he went on to commit genocide if he knew beforehand that his wife would die and was willing to sacrifice her

on the other hand, there’s also a cutaway to morgause’s face during this speech in which she looks surprised or confused at what ygraine says, which doesn’t add up if she was pulling these strings, so...What Is The Truth

not to be like this but merlin bearing witness to this whole series of events is like...there’s some things that once you go through them with somebody things between you change and there’s a new intimacy there...i don’t expect much from a show that likes to return to the status quo but in my heart it’s how i feel

OH BOY HERE WE GO. arthur arrives in camelot and pulls his sword out as soon as he leaves his horse leaving a visibly spooked merlin behind him this is the STUFF

“arthur was born of magic” is really a hell of a line because even though i already knew this backstory i hadn’t stopped to consider it like that...no, magic is not a crucial part of arthur’s identity and how he views himself the way it is for merlin and morgana, but it’s still a part of his history and what made him who he is, that made him alive and different from other people. his hatred and fear of it becomes so much more tragic in that light. i think also there was such a clear line drown before between people who are magic and people who are not and for me, mentally, arthur kind of...swapped sides, or is at least straddling the border

merlin’s absolute FURY at uther’s hypocrisy is like...........fucking. another thing i wanted to see for a season and a half. imo there’s not nearly enough meat to the fact that merlin is magic and ultimately serves uther who is trying to decimate him and his kind - has actually SAVED UTHER'S LIFE on MULTIPLE occasions. this is the first time this show actually went “hey uther is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people and that’s really not at all ok” and i am SO into it. like, no, he’s not misguided. he’s not “just grieving.” he’s a murderer. he’s responsible for genocide.

the final 9 minutes of this episode feature arthur pendragon being absolutely FURIOUS. he’s LIVID. he’s PISSED. and i love it more than anything else this show has done so far

i genuinely, truly believed he didn’t have this in him. never in my WILDEST DREAMS could i have imagined arthur doing this. i had written it off as the stuff of fanfics. but holy shit my man snapped

HE👏DID👏THAT👏

reasons i did not see this coming at all even a little: 1. i figured there was no way arthur would get over his anti-magic thing until near the end (i know it must come back later, but STILL) 2. i did not believe for one second he could ever seriously stand up to his father for more than a few minutes at a time 3. most of what’s making arthur so goddamn pissed is that he thinks his dad killed his mom on purpose but he’s also showing a fair amount of horror at the fact that uther hunted down and killed everyone even remotely associated with sorcery like animals. do you know what that is? does anybody else understand the enormity of this? HE IS SHOWING EMPATHY. i DID NOT believe he was capable of it.

i do feel a way about how uther started this scene from a place of cool confidence - he was handing out orders, “leave us and no one comes in,” manipulating the situation, “she was lying to you, magic users are trying to destroy us,” and finally trying to close the door on the topic and reassert control, “i am your kind and your father and you will SHOW ME SOME RESPECT” - and arthur was not only having none of it (the way his eyes narrowed as uther’s casual “she was lying”...oh boy) he TURNED THE TABLES and had uther ON THE DEFENSIVE. the number of times we’ve seen uther shut other people down and get his way because he’s king and everyone is afraid of him and this time uther was the one who afraid LITERALLY for his life. HOW’S THAT TASTE BITCH god it was SO satisfying. like, there’s one shot where arthur is walking slowly towards him after all his verbal tactics have failed to de-escalate the situation and he’s in the backround with his eyes so fucking wide and he looks TERRIFIED. i LOVE IT

“you are my son. you would not strike an unarmed man.” “i no longer consider myself your son” AND HE STRIKES HIM

HE👏

DID👏

THAT👏

when i say that i LITERALLY screamed i am not at all exaggerating or using hyperbole. cathy asked twice if i needed to pause & collect myself. i could not have paused if my life depended on it

i’m really on the fence about merlin stopping arthur. on the one hand, arthur has suffered enough and doesn’t need to suffer more by having to carry the guilt or dadmurder. under the other, uther is a monster and needs to die, and the entire world would be better off without him

like...arthur’s face when he says “you have caused so much suffering and pain”...he really finally got it. for one beautiful brilliant moment he understood

i am NOT on the fence about merlin lying to arthur. that was the wrong way to do it. arthur 6000% deserves to know the truth and that’s only gonna come back and bite them later i’m sure (unless it never comes back at all in which case i’ll be pissed)

i’m not sure that arthur would have backed off if they had told the truth and said “uther didn’t realize your mom was gonna die so really that part wasn’t his fault”...he was really mad! but he might’ve. lying was not the way to go. i’m so angry at literally everyone in that scene for allowing arthur to walk away believing he was wrong. he was so full of conviction and he was about to do a really good thing - not good for him personally, but good for the world - and everyone he trusts lied to his face in order to maintain the status quo and not have to deal with anything ugly. i HATE it. i’m team arthur now. i’m in the arthur defense squad. all those dumb liars aren’t good enough to be his friends!!!!!!

like, even his dad’s words were sooo carefully chosen to avoid lying but also avoid telling the whole truth. even in that moment when arthur was laying it all bare and they could have made some sort of progress as character and as people. we had to go BACK TO THE STATUS QUO

Once Again Arthurs Heart Is Hardened To Magic i hate it thanks

honestly look uther telling arthur that he’s a trusted ally in the fight against magic should make him feel a lot more distressed than what we got. i mean i’m sure he’s glad his cover is safe but he should realize that if uther approves he’s doing something wrong

furthermore, uther hasn’t changed a bit. he says he came to thank merlin and that merlin is a loyal servant and trusted ally, but then threatens his life before he leaves. honestly we should have just let arthur stab him

i do appreciate them making a point of mentioning that merlin was tempted to let uther die and that it would have been better for him if uther HAD died and he only did what he did to protect arthur but like...there were ways to do that that didn’t involve lying i think. this is an optimistic show most of the time. it wouldn’t have messed with my suspension of disbelief if arthur had dropped the sword knowing the real whole truth! but no, The Status Quo

i don’t know if i will still love arthur so much in the coming episodes.................we’ll see. i’m kind of nervous because i don’t know how they’re ever going to top this. i think we peaked right here and it’ll never be this good for me again

[slaughterking]

“Hurt” the understatement of the Century

“Im sorry i hurt you” “Im sorry i caused you pain” Really, took your dumb ass 3 years just to say that pathetic bull shit. Try “sorry i Destroyed you. YOU HAVE FUCKED UP MY LIFE. FUCKKKKEEEED ITTTT UPPP!  You obliterated my hopes of having a father, You desecrated my childhood, annihilated any chance of normality and achieving happiness as a child, you shattered my self respect and self image, you demoralised me, you alienated me, you hated me. No one on the goddamn face of this planet has “hurt” me like you have. No one has caused me more pain. No one has done as much damage to me as you have. What are you now that ive mourned your death. Your dead to me. The idealized perception i was holding on to, you murdered and destoryed. Killed it, slashed it up, burned, then took a piss on it. You, the ignorant asshole, life ruining, small minded, bigoted, prejudice, racist, religious christian cult following just mean person. So mean, so much hate and lack of empathy and absolutely no desire to better yourself or understand. Just so mean, so much disregard and hate in your heart. So much stupidity and ignorance. What are you to me. Your my sperm doner. What was i supppose to get from you in life. What have you taught me? You’ve taught me to hate myself. Youve taught me to be disgusted in who i am, in somthing i have no goddamn control over. You taught me to hide from myself and how to hide from every muther fucking ignorant asshole on this planet. You taught me how to develop dependencies and addictions in order to cope with your emotional neglect, your emotional abuse. YOU ARE A CHILD ABUSER. You taught me im an abomination. you taught me im disgusting. You taught me i am inherently bad and deserving to be tortured, burned, whipped, in an eternal firery burning place of damnation for the entirity of my existence. Fuck you. FUCKK YOU FOR RUINING MY LIFE. you get to go live ur stupid ass ignorantly blissfull life thinking your a “good fucking christian”. YOu live a straight line, and have condemed me into a life filled with cycles of loops and depressions. You gave me severe social anxiety. You gave me depression. You gave me self image and self hating issues. You made it hard for me to get out of bed. You made it so i can only shower every 5 days. You made it so i only eat once a day. You made it so im falling behind and failing in school. youve made it so i cant be in a relationship with another human being im sexually attracted to and want to love. Im too depressed, coulding love myself, nor even take care of myself. THats why i broke up with kwynn. How am i supposed to suppport and love someone else when i cant even do that for myself. Klippity is a great person and i cant go hangout with him cuz im mouring the loss of who i thought you are, or who i thought you would be. your the reason i snort drugs and mix it with alcohol. Your the reason i slit my wrists. YOur the reason ive been high for 4 years of my life, every single day. Your the reason i cant live, I cant thrive. Your the reason im perpetually depressed and stuck in this goddamn hole that you could care less about. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU. how indoctrinated and disgusting of a person can you be to ignor the pain i had. DO you know how hard it was for me to decide to open up and be that vulnerable and suseptable for you. I gave you my entire life. I gave it to you my journals because i cannot handle being that direct myself, i shut down around you. My protective self immediatly takes over and consumes me. Forces me to put on the most happiest smile anyone has ever seen. Forces me to pretend to be so goddamn happy and normal and okay around you. Forced me to like you and pretend that you havn’t severely and utterly fucked up my life. Who are you. How can someone, a father, someone who claims to care about me and love me, read that and not be so devistated in their actions and the cultist beliefs they choose to have. How can i not matter that much. How can your dumb beliefs be more important to you. How can you care so little about me, that you compare me to a drug dealer and a rapist and a murdurer, and a criminal. My consensual decision to love someone HARMS NO ONE ASSHOLE. a murdurer or rapist unconsenually desides to hurt someone else. ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUSLY COMPARING ME TO THAT. GO FUCK YOURSELF YOU IGNORANT ASSHOLE. im sitting here devistatinly sad. Im so sad. Just so abliterated. Im exhausted. All my energy is going toward the bare minimum needed in school, and my basic survival needs. WHAT THE FUCK! DOES THAT SEEM FAIR TO YOU? im abused and raised in an abusive household, and the fucking abuser gets to live a nice happy life not giving a shit about his victims. Im over here trying with all my might to not cut open my flesh due to how much pain im feeling. Im having to deal with holiday anxiety. Its near thanksgiving and christmas, gotta stop cutting so the scars will go away. gotta start saving up energy to put on that nice fat black mask so everyone thinks im a nice happy boy. Gotta act so fake and happy, because god help us if family sees me depressed or having anxiety or scars on my hand. just screw off. You are the meanest person ive ever met. How could you. HOW DARE YOU. why would you do this to me. My life up until this point has been ruined. Ive been depressed more than ive been happy. What kind of life if this that im living. FUCK YOU. 

1:21pm November 18th 2017