#you can't produce good shit without discomfort.

[soupedepates]

I fell in love with The coffin of Andy and LeyLey

I am an incestuous SA survivor with issues yk. And it was with a sibling. I thought I was pregnant for 9 months.

But looking at those freaks enabling and making the other worse through murders, cannibalism, theft and demon invocation?

That. That is brilliant.

That's fucking cathartic and brilliant.

Because it's destroying them both and you see it, you SEE it.

If you can't handle a bit of problematic media grow the fuck up. This isn't romanticized. This is gruesome, and that's what makes it wonderful.

And come on, you can handle cannibalism, murder, body desacretion and parricide, but you draw the line at incest? You're full of shit.

The narrative ain't positive here darling. It's fine if you prefer cozy games, but don't annoy the hell of the ones that want to be disturbed, distraught and anguished by a video game.

[artdivadej]

Survivor's Remorse (XVII)

Part one

Part 11+ 

  Peeta 

"Peeta look, I need you to understand something about your gal...and you need to keep an open mind", Haymitch sighed scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"There's not much that would surprise me at this point"

"He says that now", Johanna snorts with a wicked grin.

"Shut it Johanna", Haymitch hisses, before turning back to Peeta "Good to know. But ummm. Shit", Haymitch fumbled.

"Haymitch is it some big secret or something I'm not supposed to know about?" Peeta asked looking back and forth between him and Johanna, knowing you regarded her as a sister and told her everything. "Is it why she's been avoiding me?"

"It's not that. It's just really personal and I thought...what with you two actually getting on the way you were, it wouldn't be a problem. I didn't think she'd be going through this anymore"

"Is it an episode? Is she alright?", Peeta asked quickly, his voice cracking with fear.

"Not...exactly? It's an episode of sorts. Do you remember her explaining about the splicing that Snow did to her?"

"Yeah. How are they related?"

"The way she asked you to bite her ass before, aint gonna be nothing compared to what she does to you this week", Johanna snickers.

"She can't help that this happens to her, ok boy?", Haymitch growled before pushing on, bringing his flask to his lips.

"Haymitch what's happening to her!", Peeta began to panic in his desperation, his voice rising.

"About twice a year, the feline DNA takes over. She goes through what Beetee calls 'heat'. Before, she'd have to sit in the house for a few weeks to just sweat it out and suffer through it alone. But now...since she's got you back", Haymitch begins, his lips twisting with distaste and discomfort.

"Hey I helped! I sent plenty��of toys"

"Heat?", Peeta's brow raises with confusion, not quite understanding the meaning behind the simple word, or why you'd need toys from Johanna.

"Sex boy! Her body forces her into a concupiscent state where she has to copulate. Because she couldn't do it before, she just had to suffer through it. Try and get it out herself. But it's practically a breeding instinct that she can't control"

Peeta felt the blush start from his collar, before it flared up to his hairline. Oh. Johanna's wicked grin only deepened as she watched him realize what he'd be dealing with for the next couple of weeks.

"Now you're getting it boy", Haymitch sighed with exasperation as he took another swig.

"Is it bad?"

"She produces a pheromone that drives her and us wild. People can smell it within a 500-yard radius. It's why her home was sheltered off at the far end of the Victors Village. Its disorienting and raises the testosterone levels of anyone who gets a whiff. Even I can't get near her without affects and I don't find a damn thing about her womanly", he spat with revulsion.

"Hell, I do. I don't mind it. It's gonna make my sex life even hotter!", Johanna smirked.

"Which means?"

"You'll be out of the public eye for the next week or so. It may go faster since she has what she really wants. We'll all keep you both supplied with food and water, but I doubt sweetheart'll let you out that room until it's gone down some. Like I said before, she can't help it. You're all she's ever wanted and I'm sure the heat will only amplify that when she gets a whiff of you. I'm taking a room on the other side of the manor so I can't hear a damn thing I know will be coming out that room. You two are the worst at keeping quiet. And keep that damn window closed! Or else the whole of the damn Justice Hall will be able to smell you two!"

"I'm staying in the same hall. I plan on using you two to make this week pure debauchery with Onyx and Gale. They'll both be showering me in every slutty fantasy I've ever dreamed of. He and they are going to put their names all over this hot bod", Johanna grinned wickedly. "We thank you for your service"

Peeta felt like he would combust if they said another word but, he had one more question.

"Is there a way to stop it? Or at least dull the sense so she can function? I don't like the idea of her suffering"

"You'll be doing your part to stop that all week. In the meantime, here", Haymitch grumbled shoving a familiar thick red notebook into Peeta's hands. He'd seen you with this when you scurried away from him two days ago. "Aurelius wants you to write. As much as you can, when you can. Whether you're clear headed or not. About everything you feel, see and think. The same goes for her. Snow had her file destroyed so she'd have to find all the answers to the splicing that he did by herself. Beetee and Prim have been working hard these past few years to help figure it out. A lot that we've learned has been because of her impulses and responses to things, but this could really help answer a lot of those questions"

"I will"

"Get going. She's been suffering for two days already. Come get me when she's better", He grumbled turning on heel and stomping down the hall. "Say bye bye to that back boy!", he snarked before disappearing around the corner.

"Yeah she's definitely gonna shred your shit", Johanna giggled pushing Peeta towards the hall. "I filed and styled her nails 3 days ago so you shouldn't be too bad. You're welcome loverboy. Now get going. Nothing worse than needing to cum and you can't get your rocks off"

Peeta groaned but made his way towards the bedroom. The idea of being locked away with you for weeks on end, just drowning in your passion wasn't the problem. Everyone in the building knowing about it was. It felt like such an invasion of a world the two of you had always held so private and sacred. Peeta was glad the staff was minimal right now.

Excerpt from Survivor's Remorse ch 17. Heated

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Maddink0318

[theyearthirtytwo]

Day 2.

Knowing what to write about and sitting down to actually write are often, for me, two very different things. I suppose maybe that is the whole point behind Morning Pages a la The Artist's Way and warm-ups in general. Basketball games. Doodling. Vocal exercises. That first morning cup of coffee. We often need a little cajoling to get our best work. (full transparency, I googled how to spell "cajoling" to make sure I got it right. I did. I am irrationally proud.)

So much of the "art" we see on the internet is just shitty first drafts. It's embarrassing, I think, that we've created a society of instant gratification that no longer allows creatives to actually create without near constant production. We ask for more, more, more until there is nothing more to give. That is what happened for me and We Live Here Now. You simply cannot create top-tier prose day after day, month after month, and expect to like even a quarter of what you produce. Or at least, I believe anyone with a [not so] healthy dose of imposter syndrome can not.

When I decide to look at my twenties as a shitty first draft, it feels better. It also is tinged with an ounce or two of regret that I "wasted" an entire decade mostly fucking up, but it's true nonetheless. (I had no idea nonetheless was all one word. Back to standard pride level.) My twenties were, without question, my shitty first draft. I'm still figuring out how to edit out the worst parts.

I am sure my therapist would encourage me to not think of it as "editing out" but rather, lessons learned - the shit that doesn't get to make it to the next draft. And sure, that's fine.

I have this idea about myself that continues to be proven inaccurate. In my version of self-loathing, I believe that everyone knows what a mess I am/was/have-been/will-be. Over the weekend I attended a party at a friend's house in Portland that would prove this theory unequivocally false. I've been friends with this person for close to a decade (wow), meaning - through the majority of my messiest years - and have met/known/loved many of the other dear people in his life during that time. Within moments of stepping foot on the lawn I was swooped into not one, not two, but three massive hugs and gleeful conversations. I didn't make to to the back yard for another 40 minutes....

AHHHHH!!!!! I JUST SAW A QUAIL FAMILY ON THE LAWN!!!!!!!! QUAILS ARE SO CUTE!!!!!!!!!

ok, back to how many people love me.

After the party, my friend texted me how wonderful it was to have me there and how the general feedback he's been receiving since has been "great party, it was SO GOOD to see Sharlyn." Being loved is a pretty special thing.

Not one of those people said "Sharlyn was pretty drunk, but it was still fun" or "She kind of overshared" or "She's put on a few lbs" or "I can't believe she's still not happy" - Probably none of them were even thinking it. Almost certainly none of them were even thinking it.

If I can learn to love myself like my friends do - for the joy and comfort I bring, for the loving and accepting space I leave for people, for the complete lack of judgement or expectation I put on others, and if I can learn to accept the human parts of me that have previously created a "pillar of fire, shooting directly from my chest" (call back), maybe this decade I will be able to create (produce, yuck) the work, the live, the me that I can be truly proud of.

I deleted the Zillow app from my phone. I also deleted Instagram, Pinterest, and Reddit. The applications I onced used to be anywhere else mentally are gone. Replaced with a silence and a discomfort that forces me to be right here, right now. I hate it.

It's probably great for my relationship with the kiddo that I nanny. I imagine it's great for my brain and cognitive function. I can already tell that it's great for my mental health.

I've wanted to redownload Zillow approximately 25 times already (it's been two days), but I am sticking it out for a few reasons.

Reason #1: It's Just Not Helpful

It's not helpful to imagine all of the other places I "could" be or "might want" to be instead of the place where I am. I am in no position to be purchasing a home at the moment and do not even know if I would like these homes beyond the internet (recent research - driving by homes in Salem and Eugene I was convinced that I would love, but didn't - tells me I would not) and even if I was in a position to buy a home (again, I am not), my partner and I are in the process of figuring out some very big things - including where we ultimately want to live together. This future-tripping-game-of-imaginary-house I am playing WITH MYSELF just isn't helpful.

Do I freaking love imagining how I would pretend decorate or renovate a home? Sure. Will I return to my lifelong-favorite-waste-of-time-and-creative-energy again? Without a doubt. But for now, it's unhelpful. So away it goes.

Reason #2: The Gift of Presence

In the era of the internet, being physically and mentally present is fucking hard. It's also really fucking important. Not having these freshly updated apps readily available inside my pocket computer any time of day and night requires me to notice when I would like to numb via escapism (and, unfortunately, how often) and highly encourages me to do anything else - focus on my breath, notice the nature around me, give myself comfort, give myself grace. So I'll start there. I'll notice when I am feeling the need to escape and I'll change my habits to not require the escapism I seek. How boring.

The act of actually re-downloading the apps wouldn't take very long, but the moral failing and personal disappointment I would feel in myself if I did so wouldn't be worth it.

So, for now, I have my feelings, my thoughts, my breath, and my body. I have the right here and the right now.

Let's hope that's enough.