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annafm · 4 years ago

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(MEDALION RAHIMI, NONBINARY) - Have you seen ANNABEL MAJIDI? ANNA is in HER/THEIR JUNIOR year. The LITERATURE + INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALISM MAJOR is 22 years old & is a SCORPIO. People say SHE/THEY are DILIGENT, ADROIT, CYNICAL and AUSTERE. Rumors say they’re a member of WINTHROP. I heard from the gossip blog that THEY ARE FAKING BEING A PSYCHIC. (JAMES. 21. EST. THEY/THEM.)

hllo this is anna i hvnt .. played her in a while <3 bt thts okay i think she is very fun 2 play bt like in the way tht she is <3 serious n mean a bit ... bt its okay .. LHKDSGFHLKSDHLKG im sorry this is long this is. an old intro i hvnt rly changed much >.>

CAR ACCIDENT, INJURY TW

aesthetic.

falling feathers darkened at the tips, tweed and pinstripes, red trenchcoats and plaid skirts, worn ballet shoes covered in dust, smudged eyeliner and unruly hair, boxing gloves, ornate canes and pain medication, bandaged hands, classical music floating throughout an empty ballroom, worn jackets and awkwardly cut t-shirts, spilled ink and stained hands, glasses skewed, sneers and jabs, constant fighting, smog in a city, spotlights and encores, piles of books and a long line, backless dresses and sitting alone at a bar, wariness.

basic.

full name: annabel odeda majidi

nickname(s): anna, annie (father only), anna-banana (father only)

b.o.d. - october 31st, 1997

label(s): the catalyst, the charlatan, the minefield, etc.

height: 5′6″

hometown: nyc, ny

sexuality: bisexual

stats

favorite song: you’re dead, norma tanega / now, your hope and compassion is gone / you’ve sold out your dream to the world / stay dead, stay dead, stay dead / you’re dead and outta this world

background.

born to two high schoolers who never married, firoj majidi and parvana banai. they were head over heels for each other - when firoj graduated he took up two jobs alongside community college to support their family, until parvana graduated and took on the arts.

growing up was tough - living in the city wasn’t cheap, parvana’s art rarely sold and the two often went without eating in order to provide for annabel. as a child she’d often wear hand-me-downs from extended family.

was taught to be a hard worker and it was reflected in her schoolwork - anna excelled in all her classes but especially english. her love for writing grew at a young age, and as a child she saved up enough money to buy herself proper journals.

the only thing that she grew more passionate towards than writing was ballet - she caught the image of girls flying through the air and landing on their toes in the window of a dance studio on a walk home from school one day and that was it - something clicked inside of her.

that same day she would spend hours prancing about their tiny apartment, trying to mimic what she’d seen. it was easy to spot the passion anna had for the dance - and within a few months they had saved up enough money for a month’s worth of lessons.

anna was ecstatic - her slippers were old and found in the back of a thrift store by an odd miracle, but she put her all into the lessons regardless. she was quick to pick up on each move, and by the end of the month it was clear that anna had a natural talent.

parvana picked up a job in order for them to keep affording the lessons, month after month - they weighed down on their pockets, but it kept anna happy.

flash forward a few years - life was good. money was still a struggle but they were tight knit.

or rather, anna thought they were tight knit.

firoj and parvana split up when anna was twelve - an event that rocked the young girl’s world, something that she couldn’t understand. they had kept up a front of love when anna was home from school or ballet - but behind doors, they had been growing apart.

anna viewed their separation as parvana running off with another man - an art collector who had a fascination with paravana’s paintings. she viewed this as the end of the world. she viewed this as the death of love.

when anna was twelve, she swore she would never fall in love - refused to believe in its existence. she couldn’t wrap her mind around the simple separation.

her father got a third job in order to keep up with payments, and anna pushed herself in both ballet and school - not being able to handle an empty apartment. she decided to get a job - to help ease her father, but was too young.

so anna decided to do what any average 12 year old would do. she started scamming people.

she’d sell store-bought lemonade as if it were homemade, stole ceramics from art class and sold them to neighbors. she found an old girl scouts uniform in the back of a goodwill and for the next month, she sold knock-off girl scout cookies from the dollar store - going door to door.

her personality had changed drastically - anna went from a sweet, optimistic girl with warm brown eyes and an infectious laugh to cold, calculated, and downright cruel. she knew what she wanted and how to get it.

she got an invitation to a prestigious private school, full scholarship, before she hit high school - originally wanted to reject it as the thought of being surrounded by new york’s richest teens was appalling, but their ballet program was a one-way ticket into the american ballet theatre. anna ultimately accepted the scholarship.

high school was immediately hell for her - pretentious rich kids who all shared a collective brain cell and her secondhand uniform being a prime target for them.

ballet got extremely competitive - anna was a threat to every dancer in their program, bullying and sabotage became standard - but anna retaliated when possible.

this all, however, suddenly stopped when anna picked up her latest scam: faking psychic. through a small network of ‘bees’ she’d pay to gather information (gossip, rumors, etc. etc.) she was able to accurately ~see~ into students’ past, present, and potentially future affairs. the money was very worth it.

from that point forward, people were intimidated by her.

when anna was 16 she was handpicked to join the american ballet theatre’s studio company, alongside 11 other lucky individuals. her dream from that point forward was to become the youngest principal ballerina for abt - and she was going to start by winning over the role of clara in their production of the nutcracker.

she was 17 when she was chosen, much to the dismay of the other girls. she had momentarily quit her ‘psychic’ business in order to dedicate the entirety of her time towards rehearsals & practice.

the final week before her first performance as clara, anna got into a car accident heading home after another tiresome rehearsal. knocked unconscious, anna woke up three days later with no recollection of the accident - and her leg freshly operated on.

it was a devastating event that should had killed her - maybe she would had been better off if it had - but instead, it had effectively destroyed any chances of her dancing professionally.

it took two months of extensive physical therapy for anna to walk again - now relying heavily on a cane.

with ptsd and depression weighing heavily on her shoulders, anna turned back to writing - mostly as a coping mechanism, but it soon became the fierce passion it once was when she was younger.

for the remainder of her high school life, anna dedicated the majority of her time towards recovery, her writing, and directing her school’s theatre productions. oh - and claiming that almost dying had given her the gift of mediumship. it wasn’t too far off from her psychic claims - her peers believed it well enough to either stay away, or pay her for a small amount of comfort.

decided to attend yates for their reputation despite her hatred for pretentious schools (very ironic because she herself is pretentious) & also. she had a scholarship <3 so.

in the midst of writing her first book that’s based heavily on her experiences as a low income student at a private school but like. she’s side-eying all these societies and seeing a Big Money Grab if she were to. write abt them instead

still can’t dance any longer, but she works as a ballet assistant for one of the dance instructors & still tends to barge her way into theatre rehearsals to <3 give her unwarranted opinion

personality & facts.

she’s not the friendliest person. knows what she wants and how to get it, and will not hesitate to use people or push them out of her way in order to achieve her goals.

her cutthroat nature was the reason for her success in academics and dance - tends to intimidate the students in the ballet classes she helps out in.

horribly stubborn - if she’s got an idea of you already in her mind, then it’s hard to convince her otherwise.

still uses a cane - in fact, she can’t really walk without it - unless she wants to be in pain.

it’s sturdy, ornate, and pretty fucking solid. doubles as a weapon if need be - has definitely … hit people with it before, though she’s calmed down now that she’s a little older.

used to be very angry, very defensive as a teenager - is still the same, just … less intense. will not hesitate to speak her mind and let her opinions known - especially in the face of injustice.

doesn’t really have the best … relationship with authority, mainly because of where she was raised and her con-artist businesses. tends to be snarky and sarcastic to anybody in charge - or really, anybody in general.

pretty distrusting, pretty emotionless on the outside, doesn’t like to be seen as weak or somebody to be pitied. keeps herself closely guarded and doesn’t really let others ‘inside’ due to her own comfort levels.

she’ll sleep around but dating is out of the question, for the most part - she’s been on a few blind dates, a few casual get-togethers - but she’s always the one to break things off. is more of a careful hook-up kind of gal.

still does her psychic medium business !! sometimes she wonders if she’s a bad person because of it - but ultimately, it’s on her customers for believing in all that nonsense anyway. anna herself is a skeptic - doesn’t believe in anything unless she can see it and feel it.

is actually … a pretty sentimental person, doesn’t take anything she’s got for granted, and is hugely appreciative of her father. sends him money when she can. hasn’t spoken to her mother in years - pretty sure she’s got a step / half-sibling or two but she’s never met them.

a lone wolf and likes it that way, but she isn’t super opposed to friendship - even if she won’t necessarily call anybody a friend. appreciates others who are similar to her - got their head on right, and knows what they want in life.

has a pretty bad fear of driving - will uber if she needs to go anywhere - even then, being in cars makes her pretty anxious. still has ptsd-induced panic attacks, though she’s managed them pretty well.

doesn’t really do drugs! will smoke weed to ease the ache and her nerves, but otherwise she only takes what is prescribed for her. doesn’t drink anything hard, either. big fan of beer and wine. probably gets wine drunk home alone late at night … like … two times a week.

goes between being high strung and uncaring - she’s not especially moody ( rather, is just consistently angry for whatever reasons ) but she definitely tries to bottle everything up.

probably keeps pepper spray on her at all times, even though she’s got her cane. has cat ear brass knuckles on her keychain - took advantage of the archery club at her private school. she’s not paranoid, she just likes being prepared.

has a soft spot for children, animals, and soft women. kind of person who will put herself in the line of danger in order to protect others - even if she doesn’t necessarily know them too well.

also the kind of person who’ll set something on fire - or do something because you’ve told her not to. incredibly spiteful when wronged. will raise hell if need be.

morally ambiguous tbh.

wanted connections.

who do u think i am ;; either uh. people who have seen her around campus being a bit of a freak like <3 kick someone’s tire in a small fit of rage <3 or spend 20 minutes trying to coax a cat near her so she could pet it <3 or having a that’s so raven moment <3 or someone who tried to help her out with something and she was like. excuse me. what the fuck. get away from me freak loser. maybe threatened them.

slowburn but make it evil ;; uh. when i played her as older she hd a plot where she <3 ws engaged n then broke it off bcos her fiance cheated <3 so i wld like another. plot where she actually <3 tries to enjoy someone else’s company and presence and it just ends up hurting her n reaffirming her idea tht love is? fake n dumb n stupid. thank u.

ykno ... a little dash of spice ... ;; uh. yknow just hookups. hateships <3 or they never talk abt what happened <3 or an awkward drunk one night stand <3 maybe a pregnancy scare and shes like Ah. motherhood Scares me. because she <3 hates her own mother <3 LDSLKFHLGSHLK. it leaves their relationship rly weird the whole ordeal ... maybe even just a blind date <3 or someone she ghosted

read my future ;; customers very classic uh. just people who come to her for her psychic readings <3 and her uh. talking to the dead <3 but also alternately. skeptics ?? people suspicious of her ?? very epic.

like actually Die? ;; enemies. she hates them so bad. maybe its one-sided. maybe theyre an annoyance. maybe she annoys them? very bad not very good.

and we dance dance dance, dance dance dance <3 ;; this is just. fr ballet students. or, hold up, consider this: someone who recognizes her frm this. very tragic event where she cld no longer b a ballerina bc i think it ws. like not the Biggest deal bt if ur muse ran in private school circles ykno ??

pet the feral cat ;; these r the soft <3 normal connections <3 someone she’s soft for / protective of. friends that she doesn’t completely hate.

i Do Not Know ;; i will. take anything. please. weed dealers, people she’s totally sus about for no reason. she steals and reads their mail. they have been rivals for years. they hv a special bond. they r strangers but they get stuck in an elevator. she’s tutoring them bt she wont let them take a break n she keeps making them recite fucking. shakespeare. anything is sexy and fun n cool

#yatesintro #car accident tw #injury tw #ptsd tw

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annabcll · 5 years ago

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MEDALION RAHIMI / CIS FEMALE. — annabel majidi is really making a name for themselves as a tier 2 shepherd. i think that she is studying english + investigative journalism in their junior year at lockwood, living in audax. originally from new york city, new york, anna is known to be diligent & adroit, but can also be cynical & austere. — james / 20 / est / she/they.

4/5 !!! so close !! anna doesn’t really have ... any changes to her, except for her connections to the victims section so :^)

TW POVERTY, CAR ACCIDENT, INJURY, DEATH MENTION, GRIEF MENTION

a e s t h e t i c s

falling feathers darkened at the tips, leather jackets and pinstripes, red trenchcoats and plaid skirts, worn ballet shoes covered in dust, smudged eyeliner and unruly hair, boxing gloves, ornate canes and pain medication, bandaged hands, classical music floating throughout an empty ballroom, bomber jackets and cropped tees, spilled ink and stained hands, glasses skewed, sneers and jabs, constant fighting, smog in a city, spotlights and encores, piles of books and a long line, backless dresses and sitting alone at a bar, wariness.

general info !!

full name: annabel odeda majidi

nickname(s): anna, annie (hates), anna banana (father, exclusively)

b.o.d. - october 31st. scorpio child.

label(s): the catalyst, the charlatan, the crepehanger, the minefield

height: 5′6″

hometown: nyc, ny

sexuality: bisexual

stats

biography !!

parvana picked up a job in order for them to keep affording the lessons, month after month - they weighed down on their pockets, but it kept anna happy.

flash forward a few years - life was good. money was still a struggle but they were tight knit.

or rather, anna thought they were tight knit.

when anna was twelve, she swore she would never fall in love - refused to believe in its existence. she couldn’t wrap her mind around the simple separation.

so anna decided to do what any average 12 year old would do. she started scamming people.

high school was immediately hell for her - pretentious rich kids who all shared a collective brain cell and her secondhand uniform being a prime target for them.

ballet got extremely competitive - anna was a threat to every dancer in their program, bullying and sabotage became standard - but anna retaliated when possible.

from that point forward, people were intimidated by her.

she was 17 when she was chosen, much to the dismay of the other girls. she had momentarily quit her ‘psychic’ business in order to dedicate the entirety of her time towards rehearsals & practice.

it was a devastating event that should had killed her - maybe she would had been better off if it had - but instead, it had effectively destroyed any chances of her dancing professionally.

it took two months of extensive physical therapy for anna to walk again - now relying heavily on a cane.

with ptsd and depression weighing heavily on her shoulders, anna turned back to writing - mostly as a coping mechanism, but it soon became the fierce passion it once was when she was younger.

decided to go to lockwood after graduation in order to stay somewhat close to her father - she’s here on a full scholarship for her dual-major in english & investigative journalim

is in midst of writing her first book, based heavily on her experiences as a scholarship student at a private school, YA fiction, essentially - mostly just to dip her toes in the water and to try and become an established author. if it goes well, it’ll become a series.

the watershed app captured her attention immediately, and she’s been slowly trying to work her way up the tiers of shepherds. finds it completely fascinating, and uses it to help with her psychic business.

still can’t dance any longer, but she works as a ballet assistant for one of the dance instructors.

personality !!

lives in audax, where things break A Lot. she’s usually seen threatening RAs and maintenance men until they fix whatever problems. :^)

that being said - she’s not the friendliest person. knows what she wants and how to get it, and will not hesitate to use people or push them out of her way in order to achieve her goals.

her cutthroat nature was the reason for her success in academics and dance - tends to intimidate the students in the ballet classes she helps out in.

horribly stubborn - if she’s got an idea of you already in her mind, then it’s hard to convince her otherwise.

still uses a cane - in fact, she can’t really walk without it - unless she wants to be in pain.

it’s sturdy, ornate, and pretty fucking solid. doubles as a weapon if need be - has definitely … hit people with it before, though she’s calmed down now that she’s a little older.

used to be very angry, very defensive as a teenager - is still the same, just … less intense. will not hesitate to speak her mind and let her opinions known - especially in the face of injustice.

goes between being high strung and uncaring - she’s not especially moody ( rather, is just consistently angry for whatever reasons ) but she definitely tries to bottle everything up.

probably keeps pepper spray on her at all times, even though she’s got her cane. has a gun hidden in her dorm, cat ear brass knuckles on her keychain. she’s not paranoid, she just likes being prepared.

kind of wants to write a novel based off of watershed so! she takes a lot of notes - tends to be very observant.

has a soft spot for children, animals, and soft women. kind of person who will put herself in the line of danger in order to protect others - even if she doesn’t necessarily know them too well.

also the kind of person who’ll set something on fire - or do something because you’ve told her not to. incredibly spiteful when wronged. will raise hell if need be.

morally ambiguous tbh.

connections to the victims !!

tatiana samuels / mutually disliked each other and they’d avoid one another if possible. nobody is quite sure of why - some say it’s because tatiana was skeptical of anna’s psychic business, others say it’s because tatiana had gotten a bad fortune predicting her death.

george craig iii / once a friend of anna’s due to their similar personalities - their friendship was ended because of tatiana. once again - it isn’t quite known why, but it’s been hinted that tatiana had made george choose between her friendship & anna’s. tatiana had been the obvious choice, and that was that.

hana williams / a friend & a client, anna would regularly do tarot readings for hana. after tatiana, anna had tried to keep her readings positive.

christoph wainwright / enemies due to christoph pushing her buttons and generally just rubbing her the wrong way, her own suspicions leading to a natural defense against him, which he reflected.

wanted connections !!

maybe … a roommate?

acquaintances. people who’ve seen her around campus and are curious. people who’ve seen her like … kick someone’s tire in a small fit of rage or spend 20 minutes trying to coax a cat into coming near her so she could pet it.

someone from new york who recognizes her from whatever !! whether it’s from newspaper details of her incident, her legacy at her private school, her legacy as a ballerina before her incident, etc. etc.

has taken up boxing recently - so somebody whose helping her at the gym?

someone who tried to like. help her cross the road or something because they saw her with her cane and she yelled at them so now they’re in this weird spot.

dance students !! if somebody does ballet - she might be helping them.

someone she’s soft for for whatever reason :/

hookups !! of any sort !! the kind where you never talk outside of it, or a hate-fuck scenario … anything !!

customers who come to her for psychic readings and like. comfort in the form of talking to the dead.

people skeptical of her !! maybe trying to ruin her in some way.

other shepherds. someone higher up that she’s trying to manipulate in some way for her own benefits.

a drunk one night stand that neither wants to talk about.

a pregnancy scare with another, separate one night stand! it turned out to be nothing, but there was some. weirdness. between them afterwards.

a blind date or two dnfjgkmh

someone she ghosted :/

ok ok ok so … back when anna was an older muse, she was fresh out of a broken off engagement b/c her husband-to-be cheated on her … so i kinda want … smth similar to happen to her again ? y’know. make her fall in love. break her heart. ruin her again. it’d b fun ! angst is fun !

someone she’s like, protected from a creep at a bar or a club ! and now they feel indebted towards her and she’s just like uuuh no. stop.

annoyances !!

like … maybe a pal or two, or three. mainly just people she gets along with !!

on the other end - something where they just. despise each other for whatever reason. pure hatred.

hatred but make it sexy.

a dealer because even though she can get medical marijuana … it’s good to have a lil extra on ya :)

people She’s suspicious of for whatever reason - someone she caught doing something. suspicious. untrustworthy.

someone where their mail keeps getting mixed up.

uuh really im down for anything !!

#wshintro #car accident tw #injury tw #death mention #grief mention #being poor :/ tw :/#thts a joke im also very poor

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almightanna · 5 years ago

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cisfemale — ever hear people say ANNABEL DE LA ROSA looks a lot like ADRIA ARJONA? I think SHE is about 30, so it doesn’t really work. The AUTHOR / BALLET INSTRUCTOR has lived in Livingstone for SIX MONTHS. They can be DILIGENT, but they can also be CYNICAL. I think ANNA might be A TIER 1 SHEPHERD. ( snot goblin. 20. est. she/they. )

i’m sry this took ... so long to put out ... ive been rly lazy these past few days but !! she is Here and she is Ready. i haven’t played her in a few months and last time she was a junior in high school so !! forgive me. but she’s a very old muse and has gone thru ... several fc changes. anyways !! please give this a LIKE if you’d like for me to slide into ur ims.

TW: POVERTY, DIVORCE SORT OF, CAR ACCIDENT, TRAUMATIC INJURIES, MENTIONS OF DEATH, GRIEF.

a e s t h e t i c s

general info !!

full name: annabel maritza de la rosa

nickname(s): anna, annie (hates), anna banana (father, exclusively)

b.o.d. - october 31st. scorpio child.

label(s): the catalyst, the charlatan, the crepehanger, the minefield

height: 5′7″

hometown: nyc, ny

sexuality: bisexual

stats

biography !!

born to two high schoolers who never married, mathías de la rosa and leonora nieves. they were head over heels for each other - when mathías graduated he took up two jobs alongside community college to support their family, until leonora graduated and took on the arts.

growing up was tough - living in the city wasn’t cheap, leonora’s art rarely sold and the two often went without eating in order to provide for annabel. as a child she’d often wear hand-me-downs from extended family.

leonora picked up a job in order for them to keep affording the lessons, month after month - they weighed down on their pockets, but it kept anna happy.

flash forward a few years - life was good. money was still a struggle but they were tight knit.

or rather, anna thought they were tight knit.

mathías and leonora split up when anna was twelve - an event that rocked the young girl’s world, something that she couldn’t understand. they had kept up a front of love when anna was home from school or ballet - but behind doors, they had been growing apart.

anna viewed their separation as leonora running off with another man - an art collector who had a fascination with leonora’s paintings. she viewed this as the end of the world. she viewed this as the death of love.

when anna was twelve, she swore she would never fall in love - refused to believe in its existence. she couldn’t wrap her mind around the simple separation.

so anna decided to do what any average 12 year old would do. she started scamming people.

high school was immediately hell for her - pretentious rich kids who all shared a collective brain cell and her secondhand uniform being a prime target for them.

ballet got extremely competitive - anna was a threat to every dancer in their program, bullying and sabotage became standard - but anna retaliated when possible.

from that point forward, people were intimidated by her.

she was 17 when she was chosen, much to the dismay of the other girls. she had momentarily quit her ‘psychic’ business in order to dedicate the entirety of her time towards rehearsals & practice.

it was a devastating event that should had killed her - maybe she would had been better off if it had - but instead, it had effectively destroyed any chances of her dancing professionally.

it took two months of extensive physical therapy for anna to walk again - now relying heavily on a cane.

with ptsd and depression weighing heavily on her shoulders, anna turned back to writing - mostly as a coping mechanism, but it soon became the fierce passion it once was when she was younger.

went to columbia after graduation on a full scholarship - it’s one of her few sources of pride - where she earned her dual degree in english & investigative journalism ( mostly because she didn’t know what she wanted to do )

wrote and published a book based heavily on her experiences as a scholarship student at a private school - YA fiction, essentially - mostly just to dip her toes in the water and become established as an author. surprisingly - the book was a hit, and has written three more in the form of a small series. she also wrote a small book on what it’s like being a ‘psychic medium’.

annabel only came to livingstone after the apner family had left her a hefty email - pleading with her to connect to their dead son. it was in livingstone that annabel heard of the watershed app - and it was from there that her interest was peaked. she immediately found herself involved as a tier 1 shepherd.

she’s partially there to take notes - to learn as much about the app as she can - and partially to strengthen and build her side-business, though she had thought she was retired. the con, however, is too great to resist. essentially - she wants to become a high enough tier to learn the dirt on everybody, and then use that for her psychic business.

decided to become a dance instructor due to her experience as a ballerina, but because she can’t really ... dance, has assistants that help her.

personality !!

lives in a semi-decent apartment downtown where the elevator would break every other week until she threatened her landlord and it was magically fixed permanently :^)

that being said - she’s not the friendliest person. knows what she wants and how to get it, and will not hesitate to use people or push them out of her way in order to achieve her goals.

her cutthroat nature was the reason for her success in academics and dance - her students are all terrified of her, and rightfully so. she teaches dancers between the ages of 16-24. while incredibly hard on them - she’d rip someone a new one if they tried to hurt any of her students.

horribly stubborn - if she’s got an idea of you already in her mind, then it’s hard to convince her otherwise.

still uses a cane - in fact, she can’t really walk without it - unless she wants to be in pain.

it’s sturdy, ornate, and pretty fucking solid. doubles as a weapon if need be - has definitely ... hit people with it before, though she’s calmed down now that she’s older.

used to be very angry, very defensive as a teenager and young adult - is still the same, just ... less intense. will not hesitate to speak her mind and let her opinions known - especially in the face of injustice.

doesn’t really have the best ... relationship with authority, mainly because of where she was raised and her con-artist businesses. tends to be snarky and sarcastic to anybody in charge - or really, anybody in general.

swore off love when she was 12 and during a fluke mid-twenties, wound up engaged. called off the engagement when she found her groom-to-be and her bridesmaid-slash-cousin together. very classic - very re-enforcing of a few of her greatest fears.

her apartment is still half-packed, half-unpacked, because she honestly cannot be bothered. got out the essentials and that was it. still has her ballet shoes, still has all of her awards for competitions she’s won - they’re just in a box tucked away somewhere labeled ‘do not open’.

is actually ... a pretty sentimental person, doesn’t take anything she’s got for granted, and is hugely appreciative of her father. sends him money when she can. hasn’t spoken to her mother in years - pretty sure she’s got a step / half-sibling or two but she’s never met them.

goes between being high strung and uncaring - she’s not especially moody ( rather, is just consistently angry for whatever reasons ) but she definitely tries to bottle everything up.

probably keeps pepper spray on her at all times, even though she’s got her cane. has a gun in her apartment, cat ear brass knuckles on her keychain. she’s not paranoid, she just likes being prepared.

kind of wants to write a novel based off of watershed so! she takes a lot of notes - tends to be very observant.

has a soft spot for children, animals, and soft women. kind of person who will put herself in the line of danger in order to protect others - even if she doesn’t necessarily know them too well.

also the kind of person who’ll set something on fire - or do something because you’ve told her not to. incredibly spiteful when wronged. will raise hell if need be.

morally ambiguous tbh.

wanted connections !!

maybe ... a roommate? i imagine her living alone but i also like the idea of having roommate so :^)

she’s sort of new in town so ! acquaintances. people who’ve seen her in town and are curious. people who’ve seen her like ... kick someone’s tire in a small fit of rage or spend 20 minutes trying to coax a cat into coming near her so she could pet it.

fans of her books !!

someone from new york who recognizes her from whatever !! whether it’s from newspaper details of her incident, her legacy at her private school, someone who went to the same college as her, her legacy as a ballerina before her incident, etc. etc.

has taken up boxing recently - so somebody whose helping her at the gym?

someone who tried to like. help her cross the road or something because they saw her with her cane and she yelled at them so now they’re in this weird spot.

students !! if somebody does ballet - she might be teaching them.

alternately, one of her assistants !!

someone she’s soft for for whatever reason :/

hookups !! preferably mid-20s to like. late-30s. she’s not a cougar, i’m sorry :(

somebody who wants her to be a cougar. and she just has to keep rejecting them.

customers who come to her for psychic readings and like. comfort in the form of talking to the dead.

people skeptical of her !! maybe trying to ruin her in some way.

other shepherds. someone higher up that she’s trying to manipulate in some way for her own benefits.

a drunk one night stand that neither wants to talk about.

a pregnancy scare with another, separate one night stand! it turned out to be nothing, but there was some. weirdness. between them afterwards.

a blind date or two dnfjgkmh

someone she ghosted :/

someone she’s like, protected from a creep at a bar or a club ! and now they feel indebted towards her and she’s just like uuuh no. stop.

annoyances !!

like ... maybe a pal or two, or three. mainly just people she gets along with !!

on the other end - something where they just. despise each other for whatever reason. pure hatred.

hatred but make it sexy.

a dealer because even though she can get medical marijuana ... it’s good to have a lil extra on ya :)

people She’s suspicious of for whatever reason - someone she caught doing something. suspicious. untrustworthy.

someone where their mail keeps getting mixed up.

uuh really im down for anything !!

#livingintro #car accident tw #injury tw #death mention tw #grief tw #only implied but

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lonely-boy-publishing · 7 years ago

Text

Axiology: A Journal Entry One

This is a True Story that is written as it happens.

Obviously, the names have been changed to protect the identity of those involved.

I sat there in my student house garage with a recently used bong on the table and my phone at hand. “Another disengaged millennian,” I wrote.

I wanted to write something impactful. I’m a writer I tell people, and I go to school for it so I feel like I’m supposed to just shit out profound words anytime I get a chance right? We all know that's not how it works.

I had written a piece of poetry that felt like a good reflection of what I believed in. Cents it was called and it was about the play on the sound of sense and cents which let me send messages from my manifesto as I call it.

I have big ideas you see and for a lot of my life I debated making a career in politics but ultimately I felt politics were fake and I ultimately dislike fake interactions.

“I suppose they are inevitable,” I wrote. It kinda rhymed. I kinda like rhyming and playing with words, so I play as much as I can when I write poetry. I counted out the syllables. Mi-lle-nni-al, four. In-ev-it-ab-le? Wait able sounds like one when you say it. Is it one? A quick search would give my answer and I learn I’m way off, some writer right?. In-ev-i-ta-ble five syllables.

Could the Iambic pentameter work? That’s Shakespearean for ‘Does the line’s syllable count match’. I wouldn’t know find out then, as I was about to be distracted by the sound of faint rap music. It was Eminem and I know almost every Eminem song and consider myself to be an exper,t but I couldn’t remember the name for some reason. I knew the beat well, however, so I bobbed my head accordingly.

I didn’t look up when Brody walked in. Brody wasn’t a roommate, he didn’t pay to live here, and he actually lived with his parent's several blocks down the road, but Brody was always here and I didn’t complain as I liked his company. He kept his bong, which was a beautifully crafted Green Hoss we used for “green” bowls here so there he made me a pretty happy person.

Just for context: Green bowls is just smoking pot of a bong. A Popper is when you smoke tobacco and pot in the same bowl, the bowl being the small glass bowl-shaped piece where you load your weed. You can smoke a popper any way you want. You can put the tobacco first and then the weed as I do, you can layer it in what we Oakvillians call a Big Mac after McDonald’s cheeseburger since it is layered as such, and you can layer weed first and Tobacco second a method that I just don’t like.

Brody didn’t hit poppers, but he used to. His piece was for nice clean green bowls which kept a bong from becoming filthy from tobacco use. Don’t get me wrong, weed bongs can get bad, but nothing is quite as bad as a popper bong. Poppers leave a gag causing aftertaste that most pot smokers can notice when they smoke the bong. Brody quit smoking poppers and recently cigarettes as well so I was actually in admiration of him.

Brody saw me bobbing my head and jamming to the familiar beat and called out:

“AYYY” all energetic like.

I laughed and kept bobbing my head without making eye contact I was staring at the page. When I finally turned my head to face him he was smiling a genuine happy-go-lucky kinda smile.

“What’s good?” He said to me as my eyes returned to my mainly white screen.

I’m really quite a boring person to socialize with. I don’t say much unless I really like what we’re talking about. Normal small-talk just doesn’t cut it for me but for the guys I see all the time, I do try, mainly out of respect.

“Not much man, just trying to think of something,” I immediately changed the topic to something that intrigued me that wasn’t me babbling on about my writing. “What Eminem song is that? It’s a Dre beat right, something like recovery album?”

“Almost Famous.” He said as he danced with the song. His dance was infectious and I started kinda grooving too.

I stared back at my screen. The blue line where my type had ended flashed repeatedly.

“I shoulda known that,” I said stopping my groove.

Sometime later many other common house people including some roommates walked in. I think it was, Anakin who wasn’t a housemate but instead one of the Den-mothers for our house, Terry who was Brody’s girlfriend, as well as Brick and Ethan who are both housemates. We all exchanged greetings and sat in some of the many seats available in the garage. We had two old blanketed couches that could seat three and four people, a yellow chest that sat two, and two single chairs, one Muskoka and the other an office chair that spun around and had wheels.

I don’t remember who sat where, but I remember I was sitting in the corner. Unfortunately, it was the wrong corner, the one that connected the two couches where everyone sat. Soon it became a chaotic series of conversations that overlapped each other.

I stared at the blinking blue line where my type ended for a majority of the conversation until I heard the word “Strike”. My eye remained on the screen but I was listening intently.

Our school, the one that connected all of us ultimately, as well as all other colleges in Ontario, was on strike. At that point we had all been on a five week “break” that was going onto its sixth.

No one thought it would last this long. The semester was in danger of being lost if not lost already and many of us were put into weird situations. Co-op students have jobs lined up in the summer and many are concerned about their qualifications. It was essentially putting everyone in stasis

This effected me in a weird way too. I had been out of high-school for three years at that point and dropped out of three different programs. each lasting only a semester. The truth is, I don’t know what I wanna do. The other half of the time out of school I spent hating my life as a waiter.

Remember how I said I hate fake-interactions? Yeah, I do, but it makes money. I tell myself the hours are good and so is the money but after doing it for now over two years, I’ve begun to turn into something a younger me would have never allowed. A sell-out. I still work as a waiter and to be frank, I’m still in debt. I’m not even making enough money to clear it. I’ve been working more since then but I don’t work every day. I have an existential crisis every time I get ready for work and barely tolerate my radical behavior three times a week. The other four I spend doing what I call leisure which I consider writing, gaming, learning and very rarely cooking.

The young me was an interesting kid, he and I still share the big dreams that we believed in but now, I don’t think I can do what he thought I could. The kid was so ambitious, and he loved Batman, oh god did he idolize Batman. You don’t understand, he wanted me to be him. The kid was obsessed with heroes. Genuinely obsessed. He wanted to be one, one that was like Batman. He wanted to channel all the rage in his soul and use it to change the world to be a better place. He wanted to do those violent things for people. He wanted to be a martyr of sorts without even knowing what martyr meant.

Martyr: a person who sacrifices something of great value and especially life itself for the sake of principle

-Merriam Webster.

The Dark Knight Trilogy didn’t help. God, they were so good. Hard to believe more people didn’t believe the way that kid did. I still think it’s pretty damn inspiring. Selflessness. Damn haha.

How Naive we are as children, yet so hopeful and optimistic.

Sincerely,

Ben. Che (this is my pen name lel)

#Ben.Che #lonely #lonelyboy #writer #true-story #real #millennials #novel #canada #ontario #axiology #mental health #me #truth #shortfiction

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ecotone99 · 5 years ago

Text

[MF] Davy, Who Couldn't Finish Anything

And he was in the principal’s office.

Strange offices principals had there – strikingly orange furniture with mostly sky blue accents. Even the carpet. As if the interior designer fashioned Gulf Livery into an architectural style, turned up the Mid Century to eleven.

“How did you become a pri-”

Davy trailed off, in his abbreviated language. Really, the worst part about his affliction was that the guillotine always cut off the critical part of his sentences, that bit where he could add some inflection. Turn a statement into a question.

“How does anyone become anything Davy? I went to school for it, just like how you used to.”

The principal had been fluent in Davy’s abbreviations for quite some time, the type of fluency that only two friends can adopt after years of building their own private dialect. Davy’s Principal dialect was now six years old, half his own age. Meanwhile the principal – an entirely average middle-aged man – was his best friend. Being his only friend was the crowning qualification.

Davy had parents who assumed responsibility over him when they couldn’t pawn him off to the principal. He lived with them, and they were mostly invisible. Preoccupied with other things most of the time. Maybe they were annoyed at the excess obligation, the repetition.

Davy, as you can gather by now…had trouble finishing tasks. He attempted to do things, scrunched his brow as hard as he could, but he usually just couldn’t. The gravest diagnoses asserted that he couldn’t finish anything.

His childhood toys were a broken barracks of half assemblies and frozen attempts. He could never finish any walk to school (nor to anywhere). In the classroom, all assignments and exams and entire grade levels were unceasingly left unceased.

Cups, each and every half consumed. Bathing effectively took some wit, as did crafting grocery lists, which he learned to always make superfluously long. This ensured that he could gather enough stuff for his mother to craft fine meals for him to not finish.

He could never even tie his shoes! Or learn how to in the first place! The stylish new Velcro types became a necessary substitute. Davy, naturally, couldn’t quite secure the top strap, but the other two held him in just fine.

Complete sentences were few and far between, as his voice was usually bitten by some rogue shark somewhere in the middle. Uninterrupted paragraphs were a bucket list ambition. Luckily, his natural body processes seemed to be continuing on just fine, a biologically healthy boy. His parents cynically wondered how long that streak would last.

…

The principal took Davy to school and back home each day. After his attempt at sixth grade mirrored his fifth and fourth grade non-accomplishments, the principal arranged for Davy to simply spend his days in that vibrantly colored office in lieu of any classroom and in lieu of any work.

This irritated the other kids at school ferociously, especially the ones who had bullied Davy incessantly ever since the day he hogged the monkey bars for an entire recess.

Davy embarked on that old hanging journey determined to reach the other side, which, of course, he never could. Still, he hung on there with the superhuman grip strength of the average nine year old, swaying gently with the wind, waiting for some heavenly force to propel him to the other side. Meanwhile, the other kids yelled in violent protest that his turn was up, that they had already finished their juice boxes, that he was being “UNFAIR!” And most unfair would be the way those kids tormented Davy from then on.

In his peer’s eyes, Davy had been granted the ultimate wish – to forgo the tireless work of the young student for the unfathomable freedom of year-round summer. They figured the gods would only grant this cotton candy destiny to a most exceptional kid, or dear lord, at least a normal one. Davy was certainly not the latter. And so Davy’s indefinite detention became more and more definite as the principal realized the difficulties he would face out in the primal schoolyard.

He spent every minute of every school day in that office. Eject. Rewind. Repeat.

…

One day, the principal had an idea…

“Davy, I have an idea…”

“What is i-“

“I’ve been reading some things lately, about your condition. People are really interested in it, you know…”

“Like I’m the town’s clow-“

“Oh don’t say that! Don’t say that. It’s not like that at all.

“It’s these medical journals, apparently some very smart people up at the college have been digging into the science, and they have some interesting ideas about what could be causing it...”

“Well when can they fix it, when can I be like-”

“I don’t know, Davy. It doesn’t say that in the papers. Maybe they don’t even know yet.”

Davy slouched on the carrot colored couch, feet on the ground, chin tucked tightly down, protesting the topic of conversation. He was usually in fine spirits, happy to be through with the times tables and cursive charts and poor performances. He got this way really only when the topic of his condition – his inability – was broached.

He didn’t like talking about it even more than he didn’t like having it, because when he didn’t talk about it, and when he didn’t have to live beside his peers, he didn’t know any better. In his mind, puzzles ended with a few holes in them. Velcro straps flapped around. His name only had three letters.

It wasn’t weird. It was weird that everyone thought it was weird! It was actually worse than weird. It was terrible.

“But I think that you should talk to one of these scientists.” The principal continued, hoping to ignite a faint spark of comfort. “I think that they could have some helpful things to tell you, help you understand how to better cope with-“

The principal paused as he saw that Davy was now wearing his hands as ear muffs, determined to drown out his only friend’s suggestions. His eyes were clenched forcefully closed, chin now attempting to burrow through his sternum. The principal noted how Davy’s angry body position uncannily mirrored perfect earthquake drill technique.

He reluctantly dropped Davy off at home. Eject.

…

The principal picked him back up the next morning, per usual. They drove to the school. And past it. Davy looked out the window and saw the familiar flag pole in front begin to fall out of his purview. He acknowledged the strangeness of this phenomenon, that the principal had never driven past the school like this before. But Davy was still in a sour mood from yesterday’s interaction, and he wasn’t about to see that finished.

“We’re going to the college today.”

Davy remained gazing out the window, unresponsive in a way that wasn’t typical. The principal overanalyzed his body language, wondered what he was staring at, thinking. He then pondered what his punishment could be for taking Davy on this unestablished field trip. Would he be fired for shirking his principal duties? Would the kid’s parents wonder where he was if their trip ran late? File kidnapping charges? Revel in unburdened relief?

He figured he should probably focus on the road. He had already committed.

“We’re going to the college today and, and I know, I know that you don’t want to. I know that you don’t want to talk about this stuff at all really. Or even hear about it.”

Davy’s continued lack of feedback again sent the principal’s mind racing. His mouth continued, now more so talking to himself than his passenger.

“I just have a feeling about this.”

They drove on, two eyes pointed attentively at the road ahead, two objectionably out the side window.

…

The principal parked at the college, exited the car and started walking toward the Completion Studies Center, while Davy followed begrudgingly behind.

Inside the center’s doors, everything was blindingly white. Their noses were soaked with the scent of stale scrubs. The head scientist of the lab came out to meet them. It seemed that the principal had made some sort of appointment, and that the scientist was eager to meet Davy – the first identified carrier of this disease.

The scientist and principal exchanged momentary small talk that neither desired yet neither ducked. Davy wondered why people who were free to indulge in full and complex sentences wasted so much time with these hollow ones.

“But anyway, the reason for my bringing Davy here was to speak with you guys, ask if you have any new, you know – new things that you’ve learned that can apply to his situation? Help him out to make some progress with the symptoms..”

The principal delivered these lines intermittently looking at the scientist and then scanning back to Davy, analyzing his body language with each passing word. Davy was stoic, staring at the ground somewhere behind the scientist’s feet.

The scientist responded in typical doctoral vernacular, “Well, as you probably know by now, there are a few other documented cases of the condition in other humans. You, Davy, are actually the first patient I’ve met in real life, so today is an equally exciting moment for me as it surely is for you.

Davy, somehow able to conceal this budding excitement, continued staring at the same point on the floor. The scientist began guiding the threesome towards two double doors deeper in the facility, each with a large window at head height.

“But alongside this dearth of human examples, we’ve actually found a fantastic array of other organisms that seem to display characteristics of this same disease.

The principal cringed a bit when he heard the scientist use the D word, immediately checking back on Davy’s response to it. The word carried no specific sting to Davy on this day, despite the fact that it usually did. He was already richly irritated at the whole operation. What was a word?

“And our studies on these other creatures, various insects and arachnids, have recently lead to some breakthrough discoveries.” The scientist choreographed this optimistic line to drop exactly as the sight through the two large windows came into view.

The principal’s ears perked and eyes swelled as he heard those words and saw the bright images floating inside the large doors. There were a dozen workers on each wall of the room, each with their own fully equipped station. On the one wall, the workers were interacting with various types of creepy-crawlies – timing their activities, jotting down notes, scrutinizing them intently. On the other wall, other workers sat in front of computers, running the numbers, extrapolating results.

Even Davy looked up from the ground when he got to the door. Inside, some wasps flew around remarkably orderly. A spider politely crawled through some controlled apparatus. Davy noted that these scientists should become dog trainers – they’d make a killing! But he kept the thought private in his head.

The principal, still staring through the window at the festivities inside, asked the scientist what breakthroughs his team had come across. The scientist wasn’t set on giving the principal a clear answer.

“Well, perhaps ‘breakthrough’ is a bit of a misnomer,” the scientist relayed obliquely.

The principal looked at the scientist unemotionally. This was the first time he looked away from the window. Davy’s gaze returned to the ground, now having to look nearly straight down to see it.

“Alright, well whatever you want to call it. Breakthrough, discovery, I don’t care.”

“The phenomena we are tracking have only been mapped in an extremely small sample size. Even stating our findings out loud may betray the sanctity of the scientific method,” the scientist dutifully warned the principal.

“So – I don’t understand. Just, what is it…just tell us.

The principal’s voice gained a sliver of frustration.

“Have you guys figured out anything that can help Davy, or – or not? I mean, I’m just going off what you’ve been telling me. Am I making parts of this up, am I going crazy?” the principal asked as he lightly tapped his temple.

The scientist, a taller man, stared into the principal’s shoulder, eventually landing his own hand on it in a display of condescension he did not entirely plan.

“Look, Mr. Principal, perhaps it’s best-

The disgruntled principal now fed the scientist’s voice to the sharks, interrupting him with clamors for answers and complaints about being patronized. The scientist raised his voice, but only one or two levels.

“Perhaps it’s best… that I speak to the boy alone.”

The principal took half a step back, mainly to release the grip on his shoulder. The scientist opened the door to the experiment room, and he and Davy stepped inside.

…

The principal looked on intently through the windows as the other two dove into conversation. He couldn’t hear anything, their backs halfway turned to him. The scientist used hand motions demonstrably, excessively. Davy mostly seemed to be paying attention.

The principal slipped into his own mental commentary.

“I just hope that this guy actually has a solution, or whatever he wants to call it – that he actually has something. That could really just wreck Davy, driving all the way out here, optimistic with all the hope I had been showering him with, and coming back empty handed.”

Davy, obviously, had no illusions of hope for this field trip. During the drive up, he wondered if he would have rather spent the day as bully bait on the playground.

“I always wanted what was best for him. I still do. When those other teachers, “teachers” would throw him aside, deride him as a lost cause, send him back to his parents and wipe their hands – I was there.

“That’s why we had to come here today. Because I had a feeling. I had a feeling, and I couldn’t stand around, like everybody else would… letting it float by.”

Eyes still fixated on the seemingly one-sided conversation inside the next room, the principal even treated himself to a brief self-aggrandizing moment of wondering where Davy would be without him. Shamefully wiping that thought from this brain, his focus quickly shifted to the vertical line between the two double doors.

“I just want Davy to be able to lead a different life. One with the gratifications that the rest of us get… the finished projects.”

The principal muttered this closing argument half aloud, trying to overwrite his previous ostentation.

…

Eventually, Davy emerged from the other room. The scientist stayed back inside, delighted to forgo any closing small talk. Davy was in a noticeably better mood – a cherry contrast to his previous 24 hours spent in the dumps.

The principal gently looked at Davy as the two of them walked side by side to the car, but he hesitated to say anything. A few moments later, seat belts buckled, Davy started to talk.

“The scientist started out by showing me all of these other organisms that have my condi-

“…There were big farms of ants in there, living in half built hil-

“…Sad bee hives so flimsy that they spilled all of the hon-

“…Spiders whose webs were just a couple of lin-

The principal fixated on every word, equally enthusiastic for their friendship being restored and for the big mystery reveal. He periodically remembered to focus on the road.

“The people that we were in the room with were doing a ton of tes-

“…Trying to figure out if there was any patte-

The impatience started building inside the principal. “Yes, I know Davy. The scientist already told me all of that, that they were messing with the bugs, looking for patterns.”

“Well they found a patte-

Davy paused, and the principal urged him to spill the beans, to say what the discovery was.

“Did they figure out a way to help you?! What was it?!”

Davy remained silent, straining unemotionally to get the final few sentences out.

The principal forgot about the road entirely, determined to stare directly at Davy for as long as it took. He circled his right wrist and hand in tight loops in front of Davy’s face, urging him to say whatever it was that they had figured out.

Davy stayed unmoved.

The principal then subconsciously realized that they were nearing the point in any story where Davy naturally started to lock up. Reaching the punchline was, per usual, a feature stripped from Davy’s story telling abilities.

Meanwhile, consciously, the principal needed the answer.

“Well what was the discovery Davy?! What did he say?!”

Davy now gave up on his forced attempts to finish the story.

“Davy, come on! You were so close!” The principal pushed out, letting his frustrations show in a way that he usually masked.

“I’m not asking you to sing the star-spangled banner! Just tell me what the scientist said! What did he say to you?!”

Davy’s silence again turned to protest. To him, the story had been finished. Any details that he left out at the end of stories – ones he was unable to say – faded from consciousness, crumbled to insignificance.

The principal beat on, intent to push just a bit harder today than he ever had before.

“I drove you all this way out to the college, I – I really stuck my neck out there for this… for your own good.

Davy returned to his familiar spot, again looking objectionably out the side window, thrown by his friend’s irritation.

“Just tell me what the damn man SAID TO YOU!”

The tones vibrated inside the car in piercing echo. The principal felt the waves of his own pride, his own folly. He glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. How he could be so primal?

He had already begun profusely apologizing when Davy finished the punchline.

“The insects don’t die.” He calmly relayed, in perhaps the only unclipped sentence he had ever produced in front of the principal.

The principal continued attempting another running apology, not yet comprehending what Davy had actually said.

Davy, realizing this, overwrote the principal’s cascading attempts at regret and confession with another perfect delivery.

“The insects – in the experiments. They don’t die.”

The principal fell silent.

…

They eventually made it back to the vibrant office, and Davy assumed his regular spot on the orange sofa. They had made good time; there was still an hour left before the school would be dismissed.

The principal knew better than to dig for further explanation on the scientific discovery. For one, it’s weightiness seemed insurmountable. And he was still deeply ashamed at how he had behaved. He reservedly accepted those stunning words without pressing on.

Davy was acting normal again. Back in the safe confines of the office, the two resumed typical topics of conversation, and this return to normalcy eased them both.

The final bell then rang, and the principal dropped Davy off at home.

Alone to contemplate the implications of his prognosis, Davy cooled into deep, genuine contentment. He was now completely satisfied to live his life of limitations – never again seeing it as restraining.

Sure, he profoundly feared living on without his only friend, assuming that a day would come where the principal would die. But Davy considered himself lucky, in this respect, to have only one friend – only one person that mattered to him.

To the regular human, singular immortality probably seemed the gravest fate of all – condemned to endlessly watch everyone and everything that mattered fade away until loneliness was the only thing left.

Davy felt fortunate to only have to watch one episode of that sad show. And besides, he and loneliness were already dashing acquaintances. He didn’t find the particulars of his immortality to be so bad. Maybe even, in a couple thousand years or so, he’d make friends with one of the others who had his disease, walk on the beach together. Watch the bees.

But on a deeper level, Davy found comfort in this confirmation that he wasn’t ever supposed to be like his peers. There was nothing peculiar with his contrasts to the mortal man, just as there was nothing peculiar with the contrasts of drifting comets to the mortal man. Two lifeforms of unlike particles. Two raindrops falling – one bound for soil, the other always landing back at sea. He no longer saw himself as a flawed human.

He was free now to be what he always was. A pure alien.

link to story: https://www.janktownmedia.com/post/davy-who-couldn-t-finish-anything

submitted by /u/janktown1 [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2t5gRdj

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athena29stone · 7 years ago

Text

The Compassionate Achiever: Understanding Empathy and Compassion So We Don’t Burn Out

Chris Kukk on episode 256 of the 10-Minute Teacher Podcast

From the Cool Cat Teacher Blog by Vicki Davis

Follow @coolcatteacher on Twitter

Dr. Chris Kukk, author of The Compassionate Achiever, combines neuroscience with social sciences to discuss why compassion helps us achieve more. He also shares the difference between empathy and compassion and why one of these is a recipe for burnout.

Listen Now

Listen to the show on iTunes or Stitcher

Stream by clicking here.

***

Enhanced Transcript

The Compassionate Achiever: Understanding Empathy and Compassion So We Don’t Burn Out

Link to show: Date: February 19, 2018

Vicki: Today we’re talking with Chris Kukk @DrChrisKukk, author of the The Compassionate Achiever.

Now, Chris, you’ve really spent your life’s work combining neuroscience and social sciences. You even work with the Center for Compassion, Creativity, and Innovation.

How do these two combine? How do you combine neuroscience and social sciences?

Chris: That’s a great question.

It happens every day, Vicki.

I was really interested in how people — and why people — make the decisions that they make.

People who are Optimistic Literally See the World Differently than Pessimists

So for me, it’s not just the context that you’re in, but also what happens inside your brain that matters — what you’re thinking, what matters, what perspectives you’re coming with, what kind of neurotransmitter are floating around in some people’s brain?

For example, if you’re highly stressed, cortisol is going to frame whatever you see in the world. Therefore, that will decide or help you decide what actions you’re going to take.

But if you have dopamine flowing around — that high rewards neurotransmitter — you’re going to see the world a lot differently.

Some people used to call me the guy with the rose-colored glasses. My glass is always half-full. They’re like, “You’re so naive. You don’t see the world the way it really is.

Studies have shown now that people who are optimistic, who have that dopamine flowing through, actually have a wider peripheral vision than the people who are negative.

Vicki: Hmmmm.

Chris: So guess what? The people who have rose-colored glasses? You see more of the real world than the people who are negative and are down.

Science has show over and over again that what happens in our brain — you know, we see with our brain, we don’t see with our eyes — and so we really should know what’s going on inside the brain if we want to understand actions and decisions that are being made.

We don’t see with our eyes. We see with our brains.

Vicki: But you know, Chris, these are difficult things.

You’re talking about The Compassionate Achiever, so you obviously care about achievement. I have people in my life — I tend to be positive. My mom says I was a positive, happy baby.

And you know there are some people who — they’re kind of born, and they’re a little more negative. What’s the research by helping us change that? Can we?

Can we change people who are born with a negative outlook rather than a positive one?

Chris: Yes. There are many ways, Vicki, yes. The short answer is yes.

And compassion can be taught, over and over again.

And we talk about that in The Compassionate Achiever.

So even Charles Darwin said that we’re born with compassion. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who is famous for the Social Contract, says that we were all born with natural compassion. But this is the trick, Vicki. Both of them say that we unlearn it through the way we structure society.

Just as an example — kids on playgrounds? When I was teaching overseas on a Fulbright in Estonia, I had 119 European students from all over the place, and I was explaining this theory called realism in international politics. Basically, if you push somebody down, you get to go on top. The world is a zero-sum game according to realism.

So I used the example of playing King of the Hill, that we play in the United States. I said, “You guys, when you play King of the Hill…”

The Games We Play Don’t Have to Be a “Zero Sum Game”

One young scholar… I’ll never forget her. She raised her ahd. She’s from Poland. She said, “Dr. Kukk, what’s KIng of the Hill?”

So I had to explain to a 119 European students that in the United States on the United states playgrounds, we actually have our kids play games called King of the Hill or Kill the Carrier.

That was shocking, and seeing their faces. They were like, “What?”

She raised her hand and said, “Thank you, Dr. Kukk.”

And I felt like, “Alright! I explained that really well!”

And then this is the kicker. My mouth then dropped.

She said, “That explains so much about the United States.”

Vicki: Oh!

Chris: Yeah, because they don’t play that there. Right?

And so this idea that Darwin and Rousseau say — that we were born with natural compassion and we unlearn it.

Unless, Vicki, you’re a psychopath. Psychopaths actually don’t have — and it’s actually been shown that — their brains are wired differently.

So we can teach that. And one of the ways we do it in the American school system is through social-emotional learning programs.

This is the other kicker! When you have social-emotional learning programs, and compassion is flowing through your school day and through your curriculum, you increase dopamine. Dopamine has been shown by neuroscience to be the “Post-It Note” for memory for all of us.

When you have more dopamine flowing through your classroom, you have better memory skills.

Dopamine improves learning and memory

Vicki: So, Chris… some people mis-define compassion.

You know, a student doesn’t have their work, or they don’t understand. “Oh, have compassion. Give them 100.” That’s not what you’re saying, right?

Chris: No.

What is Compassion?

Vicki: Can you define compassion for us?

Chris: Sure! Compassion has two parts.

One is this 360-degree holistic understanding of the problem or suffering of another. So the first part is basically understanding, but a holistic understanding.

The second part is then you have a commitment to take action to address that problem, to solve that suffering.

So, it’s this understanding and then action to take some kind of committed action to help solve that problem.

So, yeah, even my boys… I have 10, 12, and 14 year old boys.

And I discipline them, right?

And they’ll say to me, Vicki, “Aww, you’re supposed to be the compassion dude, right?”

Vicki: (laughs)

Chris: When I’m telling them they can’t (do something)

Vicki: (laughs)

Chris: So I tell them, “You guys are mixing and misunderstanding the difference between discipline and compassion. You can have compassionate discipline, yes.”

You can have compassionate discipline

Vicki: And that is so important to understand.

So, Chris, I know that you have a lot of research and information in your book. But give us an example of how schools can teach kids to have compassion.

Chris: Awww, there are so many fun ways. Let me give you an example.

This just came out in one of the schools there was this teacher that said a 7-year-old boy, “has not empathy, so he can’t have compassion.”

First off, empathy and compassion are not the same thing. You can have compassion without having empathy.

Empathy and compassion are not the same thing

I want to make sure that’s clear. We could have another whole show on the differences between empathy and compassion. But it’s clearly been shown in neuroscience that it’s different.

So I said, “If you don’t think he can have compassion — you know those pigeon books, the pigeon that rides the bus? Mo WIlliams drew the pigeon so that everyone could copy that pigeon. H said, “Ruin my copyright! Just take it.” He was on NPR, literally saying that.

I used that in classes. I said, “Draw a problem with the pigeon and the bus for that young man to try and solve. But leave the next slate blank.”

So we draw that one frame of a problem happening, and then ask him, “How would you draw the next frame?”

And he came up with two or three different solutions, compassionate solutions — not by talking, but by simply drawing it.

Then you can talk to those students about what they were drawing, about compassionate action.

So sometimes, our young students don’t have the words yet, to frame or to say what they want to say in terms of helping somebody. But trust me, they have it. They’re born with it. We just have to unleash it. One way we can do that is through comic drawing.

Vicki: So, Chris, why is it important for modern achievers to be compassionate? I mean, there’s research behind why compassion is needed, right? It’s not just a “nice to have”…

Chris: Right.

Vicki: … through character education. Aren’t there some real tangible benefits to being a compassionate person?

Tangible benefits to being a compassionate person

Chris: YES! Health!

There are so many.

If you look at one, just for your internal self, health. When you are having compassion, you are actually releasing a lot of endorphins. You’re releasing neurotransmitters, like dopamine (that reward level)and serotonin (that calming level).

You’re releasing and triggering a peptide hormone called oxytocin, which then releases all those great chemicals in your brain, lowers your blood pressure, reduces stress and chances for s heart attack. Those are just some of the health benefits.

But for team building, and for working with your colleagues and other teachers? It creates trust. It builds trust. When you have trust running through your team, you’re apt to do more. People are more apt to give more to each other.

The benefits are internal as well as external, and they go on and on.

There have been recent studies, and the Wall Street Journal just had this, in places in medical facilities where rudeness and incivility and the lack of compassion were high, there were more misdiagnoses. Wrong medications were given.

And when you increase compassion, the increase in health — less hospital time stays, people recuperating faster.

I mean, the benefits are all over the place, not just intellectually speaking. We have research, not just from the United States, but also places like Sweden, that show you that what happens when you have a compassionate classroom set up, what happens to those students in terms of their learning capabilities and abilities.

There are just so many wild benefits. You’re absolutely right, Vicki.

Vicki: So as we finish up… I have heard teachers or others say this before.

“Well, I have compassion all day long. I have compassion for everybody else. But nobody gives it to me.”

What’s your answer?

Prevent Burnout by Having Compassion, Not Empathy

Chris: They’re doing something other than compassion.

The reason I say that is that Dr. Tania Singer from Leipzig, Germany has shown us over and over. She was the first one in a September 2013 article. When we think in a compassionate way, we use the same neural circuits as love.

But when we think in an empathetic way, we use different neural circuits — the neural circuits of pain.

You get burned out. When you give compassion, compassion is given back to you over and over again. People come to you, even when you don’t even ask for help.

When you think in an empathetic way, you’re stepping into the shoes of another. A lot of people confuse empathy and compassion. They even confuse sympathy with compassion.

Sympathy’s not the same thing. That’ll burn you out. That’ll take you down.

But Vicki, when you’re in love? Like I’m going to be married to my wife this May for 30 years. When I give more love, I’m not burned out. I’m not feeling like I’m not getting love back. It comes back threefold, fourfold.

And compassion is that.

Vicki: So, I’m going to add on one more question even though we’re the 10-Minute Teacher. This is as much for me as for others.

When I do tests, I am off the chart empathetic. That’s me.

Chris: (laughs)

Vicki: And it can burn me out. I have to be careful, because I tend to feel the emotions of others.

Chris: Yes.

Vicki: Help me understand, in a healthy way, the difference between empathy and compassion.

Chris: And I’m glad you brought this up, because most teachers are attracted to that profession because they do have high levels of empathy. Same with nurses. Same with doctors.

Alright. So the basic difference. Think of empathy as having the same feeling as somebody else.

When someone else is down and depressed, you get down and depressed. Your brain doesn’t know the difference. That burns you out.

Having compassion. You’re feeling kindness toward somebody else. There’s a difference.

You can actually act to solve a problem without having to feel that problem. You can understand that suffering without having to feel that suffering.

So, it’s a lot like… for me, like a lifeguard. Before I was trained as a lifeguard, I thought, you go out there, right Vicki? You swim to them, and you save them, and you bring them back in.

But you’ve finally trained as a lifeguard, you don’t necessarily do that, because when someone’s drowning, they grab for you.

Empathy versus compassion: The lifeguard analogy

You know what you’re taught as a lifeguard in order to save them? You’re taught to take them down. Because they release you, they go back to the surface, and then you can go around and grab them — to then bring them in.

Vicki: Hmmmm.

Chris: Compassion takes that extra deliberate step of understanding, where empathy you’re just falling into the feeling. And you get lost. You can get stuck in that emotional quicksand.

Vicki: As we finish up, there’s a great old movie called Warm Springs. Kathy Bates is actually in it, and it’s about FDR. He’s feeling sorry for himself because he has polio. He doesn’t want to run for President because he said he was going to run for President when he could walk again. Obviously he couldn’t walk again. Kathy Bates in this scene says, “You are down in that hole. But I refuse to get down in that hole with you, but then I can’t pull you out.”

Chris: She’s avoiding empathy, and taking compassion.

Vicki: That’s right.

Chris: That’s right. You don’t get in the hole.

Oh, I love that! That’s a great line! (laughs)

Vicki: Oh, and I read it because I needed it!

You’ve helped me understand it, Chris.

So the book is The Compassionate Achiever by Chris Kukk.

Do check out the Shownotes. I’ve learned a lot! This is yet another example of how — when you share, when you blog, when you podcast — how it not only hopefully changes the listener, but it also changes the host, the person who’s involved.

So thank you, so much Chris, for helping me understand the difference between compassion and empathy. I think sometimes I get so empathetic, I become pathetic. (laughs)

Chris: (laughs)

Well, thank you for having me on. It’s an honor.

I’ve been following your work for quite a while, so this is an honor for me, Vicki.

Transcribed by Kymberli Mulford [email protected]

Bio as submitted

Dr. Kukk is the HarperCollins author of The Compassionate Achiever, co-host of The Compassionate Achiever Podcast, founding Director of the Center for Compassion, Creativity and Innovation, Professor of Political Science/Social Science at Western Connecticut State University, a Fulbright Scholar, Director of the Kathwari Honors Program, founder of the University’s Debate Team, and member of Phi Beta Kappa.

He received his Ph.D. in political science from Boston College and his B.A. in political science from Boston University. He was also an international security fellow at Harvard University’s Belfer Center for Science and International Affairs. His research and publications combine neuroscience with the social sciences and focus on education issues, the political economy of natural resources, and the creation and sustainability of civil society.

Dr. Kukk was also a counter-intelligence agent for the United States Army, a research associate for Cambridge Energy Research Associates, and has provided the Associated Press, National Public Radio, The Economist magazine, NBC-TV, CableVision, and other media with analysis on a wide range of topics and issues. His forthcoming books are based on the idea of weaving values such as compassion into our learning, civic, and business communities.

Blog: http://chriskukk.com

Twitter: @DrChrisKukk

Disclosure of Material Connection: This is a “sponsored podcast episode.” The company who sponsored it compensated me via cash payment, gift, or something else of value to include a reference to their product. Regardless, I only recommend products or services I believe will be good for my readers and are from companies I can recommend. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.” This company has no impact on the editorial content of the show.

The post The Compassionate Achiever: Understanding Empathy and Compassion So We Don’t Burn Out appeared first on Cool Cat Teacher Blog by Vicki Davis @coolcatteacher helping educators be excellent every day. Meow!

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ralph31ortiz · 7 years ago