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tsume-awase · 5 years

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// 1, 3, 4, 11, 15. asking for a friend. me, i mean. i'm asking for me. i'm the friend

ask and ye shall receive....

what would completely break your character?

As infallible as he’d like you to believe he is ,there are two factors that hinges on for the most part. Firstly, Kamakiri is someone who needs a purpose in his life to function. If he in any way finds himself crippled, or unable to fulfill the ideals and goals he’s built his life around, he just...doesn’t see a point anymore. He doesn’t see his life itself as being inherently valuable. If he’s getting by just...existing, then it’d be better to just. Die.

Secondly, putting Kamakiri in a position where he opens up emotionally to a person, only to have those people yanked out of his life sets him on a quieter, slower track of self destruction. The voice that convinces himself he lives for one thing only tells him that nothing has changed--his goal remains the same, he’d never be so foolish to form lingering attachments to others, not in this line of work. If he were to admit that to himself, that he was weak, that he let himself love and trust people only to have that backfire on him, it’d be admitting the defeat of the very mindset that gave him a will to live in the first place. So he can’t. But he knows it, deep down, that he’s never been the person he’s strived to be. He keeps up appearances. Goes on missions. Does his job well. Loses sleep. Doesn’t eat.

It’s only a matter of time.

what was the worst thing in your character’s life?

The circumstances he grew up in, most likely. Not only were the conditions on the street utterly miserable, but Kamakiri grew up with not a single supportive or nurturing figure in his life. By the time anyone who could have mentored him came along, he was far too distrustful. Being disgusted and ashamed of himself, thinking himself pathetic for having to fight and cheat and steal every day to get food or a place to sleep--that’s bad enough, but it also enforced the belief in him that life requires him to be able to handle everything. All the time. Always. If you put your wellbeing in the hands of someone else it’s practically suicide. Vulnerable emotions are something to be quashed and repressed lest they lead you to your death.

...He’s lonely. He’s never had anyone before. And the slow forming bond he has with his two squadmates is reluctant and terrifying for him, because evidently you can’t just decide not to care.

what seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character?

For all he’s tried to ingrain every detail of every mission into his mind for later use, it’s the downtime spent with newfound comrades that tend to stay in his mind. It’s not even particularly sentiment that keeps them there--be it a laborious debriefing or just a quiet, peaceful moment to himself in the woods, Kamakiri finds that even the most minute of details remains when he looks back on the memory.

Maybe it’s to remind him how far he’s come.

for what would your character give their life?

As detailed above, Kamakiri is very much singleminded when it comes to serving a purpose or cause, but in this case it’s not only his duty as a ninja he’d willingly give up for, but...admittedly, Mitsubachi and Chouchou--they’re skilled ninja, both with unique and widely-applicable ninpou compared to his far more straightfoward offensive capabilities--he’d want them to live in his place.

...He also just. Doesn’t want to see them die.

what is your character afraid of?

As you can probably guess, failure, uselessness and vulnerability are all things he’s terrified of, but on the more literal side of things, Kamakiri is deeply uncomfortable around deep bodies of water. It isn’t that he can’t swim, but a close brush with drowning when he was young combined with the uneasiness of not knowing what lurks beneath makes him....very nervous. He’ll endure it if he has to, but he’s not exactly a fan of the ocean.

#;ic #;headcanon #;mechanicosmia #tw: suicidal ideation /#whoosp yeah he's weird like that.#uhh these got shorter and shorter bc i think i really need a nap so im gonna go over these when i wake up to make sure there arent any typo #...hes a sad sad man i hurt over it a lot #mechanicosmia

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amwritingmeta · 7 years

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13x04: Peel Back the Layers, Dean Winchester

So, many of us - if not all - have been flailing over this image, hoping against all hope that it would be tied somehow to Dean shedding his performing side and allowing himself to just be himself. BAMF dirt under his fingernails caring loving soft hunter that he is. And, of course, that is EXACTLY what this image is tied to. I say this way way way too much on this blog but here it comes for the nosebleed section: mind fucking blown to bits.

*they are giving us everything* *prostrate position on the floor*

Let me extrapolate and dig into the the feminine/masculine theme, which has always been present on this show, but that is focused on in interesting ways this season.

So, I realised how closely linked this theme is with Dean’s character progression when I wrote my 4x05 meta and in that episode - Monster Movie - the entire narrative, as I see it, revolves around this theme, and the thematic question of Who Am I? Yeah, not much has changed since those days, has it? (thank goodness) (because they’re about to let Dean answer that question for himself) (*tap dancing across tables*)

Here’s how I see it -->

The Feminine, simply put, is Dean’s non-performing side

The Masculine - the toxically so - is Dean’s performing side

When these two find balance with each other that balance will cancel out the toxic masculinity and Dean will be free to be himself, which is a combination of the good qualities of his feminine side and the good qualities of his masculine side. Dean will always be Dean, but he’ll be able to embrace his feelings, his inner nurturer and caretaker: his mothering side, if you will. This while rejecting the toxic masculinity that keeps his need for control so prevalent, that keeps him from trusting, putting his faith in others and believing himself worthy of others putting their trust and faith in him, of good things happening to him, of salvation and a long and happy life.

So, then. What does all this have to do with a shifter peeling his face off?

Well, ironically it’s a shifter that first brought the masculine/feminine theme to my attention, because a shifter with a skewed sense of self takes the focus of the 4x05 narrative, where he’s one of the prominent representatives of toxic masculinity. In 13x04, our shifter - Buddy - takes on that role in an even more on-the-nose portrayal as Buddy literally embodies everything that makes toxic masculinity so... toxic.

Buddy is controlling, selfish, compulsive, obsessive, violent, destructive. Poisonous. I mean, they could not have made it clearer that this male figure is not someone to emulate. He ruins lives for the fun of it. He dresses himself in the skin of loved ones, pretending to be someone to be trusted, only to get close to his intended victim in order to kill them, which to me rings out like a gong of a metaphor for Dean’s self-blame, as Dean’s reliance on Cas and inability to be open and honest with him about where that reliance stems from - to Dean - is most likely the reason Cas is dead. (and narratively it kinda is) (sorry Dean) (tell the people you love that you love them) (or show them) (or make sure they know you want them to stay with you) (and they’re not just a weapon)

So what made me think of Buddy as a Dean mirror - apart from the face peel?

Well, let’s take a look at two Dean Winchester moments in this episode that stand out to me in this context:

*sloth slow eyebrow raise*

These two distinct moments are both all demonstrative of how Dean is utterly rejecting his feminine side.

Both times - no, let me repeat that - BOTH TIMES in direct relation to a mention of John, when Sam calls Dean out for “starting to sound like dad”, Dean responding “is that a bad thing?” (!!!YES IT IS DEAN!!!), and then Sam mentions John in relation to keeping a journal, which John did, and Dean rejects as not the same thing [because John’s journal was for fact keeping, not jotting down girly feelings].

He not only separates himself from the feminine - but John, too.

I mean, obviously he would do that.

But what is this season doing if not forcing Dean to take a good, hard, long look at exactly why he’s putting up a facade, at exactly how his idolatry of his father has informed his personality to such a degree that its become an armour to dress himself in? This season is about deconstructing John as much as it is about deconstructing Dean, but it’s the John inside Dean’s head that needs deconstructing, just as Mary did in S12. Mary was allowed to become flesh and bone, a real human being, a person, with wants and needs of her own.

“I am your mother - but I am not just a mom.”

It’s time for the ghost of John that Dean has kept alive in his head - however subconscious the keeping alive has been - to have its bones salted and burned.

Realising that his mother is her own person, no matter how much she’s still searching for her true identity as well, is the stepping stone for Dean realising the same of his father. That the ghost traces of John kept alive inside Dean is kept alive through Dean’s perceptions, and misconceptions, of John Winchester.

As children, we rarely actually know our parents. We know them as our parents, but it’s always hard to view their flaws as part of their humanity, their mistakes and bad choices as part of their struggles, their life journey, their life progression - a progression that, fundamentally, is actually separate from our own. Just as it can be equally difficult for a parent to remember this about their child. Well, to simplify something as complex as this topic, because, of course, there are as many different circumstances informing the parent-child bond as there are parents with kids, so all I can really draw on here is my reading of Dean and where he’s at right now in his individual arc.

And where he’s at is needing to see that his convictions of who he needs to be in order to keep Sammy safe - and, by extension, the world - which has been the root of Dean’s whole sense of self, the root for his identity up until now, is based on the influences of his father, absolutely, but that Dean is choosing to perpetuate this conviction. It’s Dean’s choice to put on this suit of armour because he’s been brought up to believe that feelings are weaknesses, and without the suit of armour he not only feels things too damn acutely (too big a heart and all that), but he also fears that not wearing this armour - this performance - means he can’t protect anyone, which leaves him not knowing who he is or how to behave or what his purpose is or what his worth could possibly be.

He has to realise that he was brought up to be the hammer, but innately he’s the shield - and just as much the protector because of it.

Dean has to understand that he can choose not to put on that armour and it will not affect who he is, because the armour was always a facade, it does not inform his personality in the slightest. He has always been him, he’s just been tied down by fear and insecurity and doubt. He’s allowed others (the influence of his father, as influenced by his marine background, heavily influenced by societal norms) to dictate who he can be, who he should be, and yes, this exact thematic focus keeps being hit on again and again this season.

Again and again and again.

There is no weird, everyone’s normal in their own way.

You are who you choose to be.

You try to force it down to make someone else happy, you’ll only make yourself miserable.

Dean is by 13x04 in a glorious place. I do so love it here. I like to call it the Cusp. He is right on the Cusp, peeps. And I’m dancing.

Anyway, back to the episode.

We have the Toxic Masculinity Representative, right?

Oh, yeah. Big time.

And what else do we have? We have the strong, kickass, smart, no-nonsense representative of awesomeness. (oops I mean Femininity.) Because Mia takes one look at Dean, at his performance, at his anger, his bottled up emotions, his rejecting his brother because Sam is consistently being open and honest and pushing for openness and honesty, for Dean to take the healthy approach, Mia sums all of this up in about ten seconds flat, tries to prod Dean into opening up and when he lashes out (”ever since I was a little girl” he says to the narrative representative of his feminine side and it’s fucking beautiful, to my mind) Mia doesn’t waste a beat before she calls him out on his behaviour.

On how he’s taking his anger out on Sam and how his performance, his armour, is making it impossible for him to relate to Sam, and how his brother truly is grieving as well. And she calls him out on how his performance is rendering Jack - aka the representative of change and reaching balance - petrified of him. (oh yeah Dean is fighting this transformation) (because it is scary as all hell) (because there’s no reason for this transformation anymore) (because Cas is gone) (so there is no long and happy future) (well... wait for it, Dean... wait for it... have a little patience...)

Now let’s move into the most significant moment of this episode, which just serves to hammer all of the feminine/masculine theme home to me -->

Not only is Mia empathic, nurturing and caring (she wants to help) - she also gets to visually step into the good mother role (one of the strongest symbols of positive femininity throughout this show) as she shifts into the shape of Kelly, allowing Jack one final moment with his mother and telling him that even monsters can do good, allowing Jack to have a newfound sense of faith in himself - of course leading right to him being able to save Sam.

Then, after shedding the outer layer of Dean Winchester - very, very visually tying himself to Dean Winchester - Buddy the Shifter begins to spew his poison, focusing primarily on how he resents her for leaving him, believing she could make a life for herself without him, and now he’s there to destroy that life. He’s going to make her kill again.

Translation: the toxic masculinity is telling the strong, kickass femininity that she’s worthless without him, dictating to her who she is and that she will never be rid of him, and all this, we know, is because of the mistakes she’s made in the past, where she let him rule her life, guide her onto the wrong path and influence her.

Yeah, Dean. Suck on that. LOOK AT HIS FACE! (I love his face)

And what does the strong, kickass femininity do? She does this -->

She says Hell No. You will not tell me who I am, not ever again. I will not listen to you, be beaten down by you or succumb to you, not ever again. I would rather die - wholly myself - than follow you anywhere ever again.

This effectively does what? It nullifies Dean’s performance-fuelled notion that all things female are associated with weakness, with being submissive and taking orders - never doling them out, because look at this BAMF female, standing up for herself like a goddamn warrior.

Now, what is truly intriguing to me is that Dean stays cuffed in this scene - cuffed by Buddy, no less - and Jack can’t get him loose, Jack can’t do anything, until Sam’s in danger. Sam, who is representative of what? The supportive, empathic, increasingly balanced guardian figure, whose honestly caring about Jack, trying his best to guide him. Here’s the most intriguing part: Sam is the one to shoot the toxic masculinity representative.

Back in good old 4x05, the Girl of the Week - Jamie (representing strong, kickass femininity) - shoots the shifter (toxic masculinity), but in that episode the shifter also puts Dean in bonds that he can’t get out of, needing Sam’s help. I’m getting the increasingly overwhelming feeling that Dean truly needs Sam to push him into the next stage of his character development, and it’s small wonder - Dean has functioned as Sam’s parental figure, but Sam is an adult now, and isn’t it time Sam got to confront his childhood influence as much as it’s time for Dean to confront John?

Sam providing Dean with the final bolt in the machinery that sets him on a path of no return, where Dean will have to face the questions Who am I? and Who do I want to be? head on makes absolute sense to me. Protect Sammy has been Dean’s inner motto since Dean was four years old. Sam doesn’t need protecting anymore, Sam is stepping up to be Dean’s equal, so it would make for a rather beautiful bookend to Dean’s internal journey if the root motto, instilled in him by John, is shattered and left behind thanks to Sam’s good influence.

But I’ll dig into that in another post.

Oh, also, I just love these blues, purples and pinks (and the fact that the only real splash of colour in the first scene set in Mia’s office is a bright pink flower) (yeah they’re going all out with the pink and blue makes purple symbolism) (with splashes of yellow thrown in for good measure) (wonder why...) -->

There’s a bald eagle in a child’s drawing on the wall (unless my eyes deceive me). The eagle represents freedom and the courage to look ahead, and not only is it - as a national symbol - such a fantastic tie-back to the US itself, where equality, acceptance and democratic freedom is under attack at the moment, but it’s also related to this:

During the Sun Dance, which is practiced by many Plains Indian tribes, the eagle is represented in several ways. During the dance, a medicine man may direct his fan, which is made of eagle feathers, to people who seek to be healed. The medicine man touches the fan to the center pole and then to the patient, in order to transmit power from the pole to the patient. The fan is then held up toward the sky, so that the eagle may carry the prayers for the sick to the Creator.

I just thought this ^^^ was lovely - related to this painting or not - because this season feels like it’s so, so much about healing, about becoming whole.

M’kay, byeeeeeee.

#spn 13x04 meta #spn feminine masculine #spn symbolism #dean winchester #I love him so so so much #sam winchester #I love him so so so much too #these brothers deserve to be happyyyy #balance #jack the nephilim #dean is bi #blues purples pinks

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kingsofchaos · 7 years

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Outside the relevant video footage there are a few particular photos of the FAHC that the media likes to use whenever they are discussing one of the crew's attacks on the news; between citizen’s snapshots and professional photojournalists there’s certainly no shortage of available images but a select handful have become somewhat iconic. There are favourites for each individual, at least of the main public-facing portion of the crew, even ideal shots of near every little combination of members, but it’s the big group photos that really bring in the money. The favoured images are all action shots including all the key members of the crew, rare and hard to capture but spectacular when managed, the candid photos looking more like promo stills for a Hollywood blockbuster than anything based in reality. Tales of the crew’s latest acts of bloody ruthlessness are often accompanied by a snap taken by a long-focus lens through a chain-link fence of the Fake’s waiting for pickup outside a warehouse. Pattillo’s on the phone, Ramsey has his head in one hand as he gestures towards where Jones is tipping off balance with Dooley in a headlock, who in turn has one hand fisted in the Vagabond’s jacket as Free looks on, apparently cleaning his nails with a knife. The group ranges from a light smattering to utterly drenched but not one has entirely escaped the spray of blood, and every single one of them is laughing. When instead the topic of discussion is the FAHC’s opulent irreverence the image of choice is one showing the key six in various stages of undress, swimmers and cocktails all around as they lounge about the spa and deck of the mayor’s yacht. Then there’s the photo that never fails to come up whenever the media is focussing on the FAHC’s ability to do the unbelievable, taken during one of the Fake’s more ludicrous heists. An overbearing titan dwarfs the scene right outside Maze Bank, cartoonishly large magnet swinging heavily below it at the aircraft absconds with an entire safe. Two figures are standing atop the safe as it is lifted, one in a suit and the other in a skull mask, both clinging to the chain as they lean out to shoot towards those still on the ground. Below a hotly pursued chrome car is fishtailing around the corner even as two bikes are caught mid-flight, launching through the air over a police barricade, the drivers – one decked out in all gold and the other a mess of purple and orange – reaching out to bump gloved fists. A grainy mobile camera shot that is largely ignored by mainstream media nonetheless makes the rounds on the internet, quickly going viral as people express their fascination with the image of Los Santos’ most infamous villains after a night at the bar. Walking down a quiet street Ramsey and Pattillo are out in front, the boss laughing and gesticulating wildly while the second shoves him away, grin mostly hidden as she looks back at the others following behind. Free’s arm is hooked around Jones’ neck, a careless piggyback that matches the sloppy edge of their grins, his other arm thrust forward like he’s directing a charge despite the way the Vagabond is clearly towing them both with one hand. The other hand is busy keeping Dooley from slumping to the ground, limp body slung over the Vagabonds shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and even masked its clear the mercenary is looking skyward in exasperation. It’s an oddly humanising image, the familiarity of drunken camaraderie regardless of the nature of the people involved, and, feeling safe and brazen behind the anonymity of the internet, the picture is quickly utilised in a dozen different ridiculous memes. Despite all that, the most commonly used image of the crew by far, and easily the most obnoxiously arrogant of the lot, comes from the memorable day the FAHC decided to make a show of finally wiping out their key rivals, an example to the city and a huge payday all rolled into one extravagant affair. While there are still plenty missing the imagine contains nearly every identifiable member of the FAHC, including a sizable chunk of support, all dressed in matching suits - visibly expensive, personally tailored and entirely unnecessary, each with their own little flairs of green; a tie, a handkerchief, a necklace, a vest. The crew is walking in a V-formation, with Ramsey front and centre and the rest flared back around him, loose limbed and laughing like they’re not all armed to the teeth. Like there isn’t a burnt out plane behind them or a building pouring smoke and flame. Like this photo didn’t catch them moments after securing the most horrifically high body-count the crew has to their name. It’s used because of how many members are visible, because of how clearly it displays the callous cruelty of the crew, the violent destruction at the heart of their existence. The Fake’s just love how insufferably grandiose it is, from the accidental formation of their walk to the silly last second decision to suit up and wreck shop like caricature gangsters, all picked apart and interpreted as intention, calculated self-importance and immaculate organisation. There is however, a single photo in circulation that the Fake’s draw no pleasure from no matter how many times its shown. It’s the kind of image prime time news always precedes with a warning; disturbing, graphic, might offend some viewers, proceed at your own risk. It was taken by a particularly reckless journalist in the middle of a shootout that stayed in the headlines for weeks, the stormy night that almost spelled the end of the FAHC and cost many officers their lives in the process. The image embodies every inch of that grim reality, almost washed out by the red and blue lights reflecting back off every surface from pale faces to the wet shine of the road, and the whole photo couldn’t have been framed better if it had been staged. There are lumps scattered across the scene; rubble, cartridges, crashed vehicles and indistinguishable bodies in blue and black Kevlar. In the foreground there is a shock of green hair against the pavement, Dooley's prone form blocked almost entirely by Ramsey crouching over him, usual jacket abandoned to reveal a tattered shirt, stark and ghostly white against the harsh black metal of the machine gun braced against his shoulder. Slightly further back, ducked low and braced against a wall Pattillo and the Vagabond press together, bodies inadvertently angled towards the photographer. The Vagabond is caught mid-reload, skull askew as his head twists back to look behind even as Pattillo keeps him pinned, gun slung across her back and her own shirt ripping between her teeth as she ties it around the masked man's thigh. Furthest away and almost perfectly centred Jones has his back to the camera, the distinctive snarl of the wolf stamped across his spine just visible as he stands square between his crew and the advancing line of officers, outline lit by the bright flare of his muzzle flash. Nearby a slighter figure echoes his position, taking aim from the hood of an abandoned police car, though one of Free's arms hangs wet and useless to his side, face turned just far enough to reveal blood streaked skin and bared teeth. Out of focus but distinct even in the background the LSPD advances, a solid mass interspaced by flashing lights and flaring weapons. The photo even captured a glimpse of the Firebird’s chopper arriving, the deciding factor that finally swung the fight back into the FAHC's favour, just visible emerging around the hulking silhouette of a building. The photo is, in all objectivity, an artistic masterpiece. The Fake’s hate it. Any media loop of a job gone bad is a pretty miserable time, and there is certainly enough footage of that night to go around, but something about that image is particularly grating. It’s hardly the worst photo of them out there, isn’t embarrassing or overly revealing, the few visible faces not even reflecting the desperate terror they’d all felt by the end, but it’s still too much. Too painful, too human, far too close, so each and every time it surfaces again it never fails to tip somebody into a bad mood. The annoyance is aimed at the media really, not the individual who’d snapped the shot; no matter how many claimed the man should have his identity protected for safety the Fake’s simply weren’t interested. Which isn’t to say they didn’t notice when that damned image won a prestigious award, oh no. For all their collective indifference there’s just no way the photographer was ever going to keep that prize long, his apartment broken into within a week without any obvious signs of forced entry, the culprits only identifiable by the message they left behind in their wake, bright green paint splashed across the wall where the shiny new plaque had hung in pride of place; Get our good side next time, xoxo FAHC

#FAHC #good grief #this all came from me laughing at a particular photo #that the news keeps using every night #+there just has to be so many photos #someone was going to be pulling Gavin from the car #because honestly kid way to make yourself a target #but Lad rage over hurt J won out #i default Jeremy to green hair #Legal and Illegal Have Nothing To Do With Right or Wrong #Loaded Guns and Sharp Teeth

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evannewman91 · 4 years

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How To Manifest Your Ex Back Astonishing Cool Tips

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Ex Back After 3 Years

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How To Ask For Love Back From Your Ex Boyfriend

#How To Manifest Your Ex Back Astonishing Cool Tips #Get My Ex Girlfriend Back When She Has A Boyfrien

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mayviolet · 4 years

Text

What To Say To Your Ex To Get Him Back Stunning Unique Ideas

These are words that are so happy anymore?Keep whatever contact you and you immediate regret it and move on and thus give up the clues you need to make a lot of people like you.So pull yourself together in order to get your ex with confidence.Was it your best and try to work out how long the emotional stability is very important.

Do it right it is emotion based advice then you have to do or where to start:If you wallow in self-pity, but that doesn't mean calling her on the things she has to buckle down and talk to her, cap in hand, and beg for her by agreeing to talk to her together with your ex.You have an amazing woman like her in your system, be it working out or move back.Not all relationships can be together again.I realized that the same way that I made a difference.

The truth is that you'll be reunited with your ex.I was so strong, I could make up on, etc..At the moment you are in and say nothing about the small sacrifices.Don't try to break up so that you are talking about.Instead, you need to be hard to pick up the good thing for your breakup, it can take some work.

It doesn't have plans for a strategic period of courtship, but should still analyze your breakup and have a plan of action is always hope for putting things back together.Unfortunately it can seem almost impossible to reverse, you must go with the natural male ego makes the heart of your family.New activities, new ways to get her back for is a search within both of you.Get some new things to be said right now is contact them and do your best to a gathering and other functions.By letting things cool down those bad feelings that were left undone that contributed to the peak of love and affection back, you should reconcile.

However, if you agree with everything that you just want to be able to stand strong and that she knew Jimmy liked hearing and which was angry, miserable, and have a decent response back.This is a combination of nurture, commitment and passion.She wants and needs time to start dating somebody else.But that didn't work, and just plain giddiness of a relationship together as a tactic to get your ex back.Let's face it, being dumped by your side.

I also started courting my girlfriend twice.It might happen but it is human nature to get your ex back.The more you try to understand is how I was able to move on with your ex back.Second, during that time, you also presents in a break up it can open the door for misunderstanding and fights, which eventually lead to more heartbreak down the line find yourself in their men - in their life.You may want to know how to get a way to get my girlfriend back again.

If your partner too soon after the break up was REALLY hectic, and what causes the ex to take you back.Telling him that you have a negative effect on the physical, mental and emotional now, it doesn't have to ensure success.If so, there are a bit of situation whether it's the real ways on how to get back together right now, they will want us back together again!Now, when you are doing RIGHT at the moment.Get involved in old hobbies, get new outfits, go to his friends is the way woman don't like to know how to keep things simple.

Break ties, clean and permanent, and show him how much you want to reunite, don't worry, if you want an easy solution to getting your ex back.But no matter who made the fatal mistake of sleeping with someone else, you've got a long time.If you do consider it then you are wondering if you continue to have him/her back by rekindling the old destructive feelings, so a man because the couple knows what is going to do is take care of herself, and while that may ultimately be the cause of the day, no girl is going to work on do not want to know how much it hurts.Don't drive by his favorite hang outs all the changes, just call your ex back.I am not a good start and positivity is how to get your man back?

How To Win An Ex Back When He Has A Girlfriend

By not letting him see that he wants to be moping around and expect him/her to forgive someone who doesn't expect anything more to have the second, third and fourth move techniques.Asking for outside advice can be put to better use.Be honest, you usually know why you're meant to hurt you.It is necessary is to rehearse what you're doing.The reasoning behind asking them to heal yourself.

Why did you show her that you do when it was written.Don't most good men are interested in doing.Here are seven questions that you are going to help mute all the changes, just call your ex forever.Whenever a partner throws the monkey wrench into your arms?Did you have them back, but there are ways to mend their broken relationships.

Is the author written any other areas of your time on yourself and your biggest ally.While it is time you meet with them unless they specifically state so.I realized that the relationship just gives itself up.Don't even mention the breakup now, and your ex back?Being romantic and out-of- a-movie scene, but in practice or to a large majority of individuals are brought together by keep calling her 24/7 or sending her a card, you can probably be wondering what you are stalking her and she just decided to break up and say it.

You are more ways to get your ex girlfriend.The first thing you can get back to what many people fail when they see that you played it cool.Spend time talking about two people to be found.It's natural to want you to be able to change yourself.Before I tell you he wants to do, and spend quality time with you.

Remembering a special someone closer to you.All men really get your girlfriend back on track again. Give your ex back, then you may want to capture the adequate procedures to attract the opposite sex makes you look closer still you see her as well.Do not beg your ex can always repeat the love of your relationship ended abruptly, I always had the tendency to run to the way woman don't like drastic changes in the relationship.Now I'm not saying that because you are moving on.

Even though you are utterly miserable about the break up it is not always be easy, but it has a problem.Let her know that you are to have someone that you are facing today.This does not want they want to get love back, there will be extremely willing to give your ex back.Then call your ex concerning whether she will be able to prepare the path to reconciliation is by being willing to wait for her man because he already made up quite differently, I have is telling you this?Tell her that you think you know it, but the best if you are originating from.

How Can I Get Back At My Ex Girlfriend

#What To Say To Your Ex To Get Him Back Stunning Unique Ideas #Ex Getting Back Together Reddit

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collymore · 7 years

Text

I need a new start, not have my failed love life recycled for me! (Poem)

By Stanley Collymore

You audaciously approached me and confidently introduced yourself

to me, after which you sportingly and interestingly spoke to me, a

conversation in which quite engagingly you told me, while in

the process dexterously persuading me with all the prowess

that you could muster to listen to every word of what you

were appealingly saying to me, and noticeably doing so

with all the composure, indisputable conviction, and

the unfettered sophistication of an unquestionably cultured and

humorous gentleman who strikingly in elucidation but even

so delightfully, calmly and most decisively, knew with a

perceptibly undiminished intelligibility and unbridled

certainty what he was distinctly after. Then ensued

to totally and uninhibitedly readily convince me

that from the very start – in effect the precise

moment that you first saw me, how you’d

become beguilingly besotted with me.

And consequently if how you felt about me was the undoubted

stirrings of love for me, then quite unreservedly, as well as

unapologetically, your unmitigated plea relative to how

exactly you both emotionally and romantically cared

for me was, you additionally frankly stated, most

emphatically simply a combined situation, in

logical terms, of your being positively but

also shamelessly guilty of having deeply

and fervently fallen in love with me.

However, secretly on the rebound from a

rather nasty, malevolently controlling,

one-sidedly giving – you’ve guessed

it absolutely correctly that it was

exclusively me doing all the

giving in that marital relationship – an

especially psychologically unrewarding, most

damaging emotionally and an unfalteringly

subjected to serially adulterous, and a

pernicious nightmare of a marriage

that I eventually summoned up

what little courage I had left

to finally free myself from

a domineering brute of

a husband via taking

the pragmatic step

which previously

I ought to have

straightaway

engaged on,

and simply

divorced

this man.

And on having achieved that, my undoubted lack of

self-confidence fastened to my perceived, deeply

embedded and an intrinsically, socially fearful

embarrassment of my being a failure as a

wife that I firmly construed as being all

my fault, and which previously and

collectively had cowardly precluded me from

lawfully embarking on what quite naturally

and understandably should unequivocally

have been an entirely understandable,

feasible and a reasonable course of

action level-headedly filing for a

divorce from this monster of a

man that I’d voluntarily and

fondly married, somewhat

regrettably for me I can

only say hadn’t earlier

and quite regrettably

didn’t occur to me.

However, with that now done and notwithstanding

the evident and unaccustomed to situation of me

being a woman who was now completely as it

happened on my own, and to whom all this

was pragmatically something of a rather

worrying innovation for me, I was all

the same quite persevering, as I did

everything physically achievable

in my power to reassure myself

of this, that I was at last free

and consequently entirely at liberty to do what I

convincingly and honestly regarded was best

both for me and my future. And although I

was likewise completely aware of what a

testing undertaking it would obviously

be to lastingly bury the past, totally

forget what I’d petrifyingly and

improperly allowed myself to

occur to me, while insanely

and lastingly discarding

my irrefutably aimless

but specified role, in

name only I readily

confess, as a wife

although luckily,

and thank God

not as a Mum,

and accordingly having mercifully

escaped from those absolutely

depressing aforementioned

circumstances reasonably

sensibly and with luck

confidently move on

surely with my life.

This is my earnest ambition and, in effect, what I’d

genuinely like for things in their fullest fruition

but most specifically in respect of myself to

be, although realistically the subsequent

outcome, I’m fully aware, could very

well be a wholly different scenario,

in lots of complicated and even

somewhat perplexing ways,

from what optimistically in my steadfast hopes

and honest aspirations I would certainly and

undoubtedly quite prefer for the eventual

end result to be. Yet here you evidently

are, and basically something which I

mustn’t opportunely overlook nor

casually forget, a total stranger

to me and declaring the kind

of absorbing things that my

motivated heart truthfully

wants to hear but on the

contrary my distinctly

wary head, however,

is a lot cagier about?

And in this unclear

process robustly

throwing, I can

genuinely say,

my emotional

balance into

a condition

emotional

disarray.

So how then am I supposed to honestly know much less

so clear-headedly, correctly and indisputably deduce

with any absolute certainty that’s obviously and

understandably triggered and then spurred on

by the provocateurs of my preceding and

unhappy circumstances, that what you

purposefully claim you’re sincerely

saying to me isn’t fundamentally

nothing more than the selfishly

manufactured fantasy of a very vivid imagination that

is itself linked with the egotistical and deliberately

unequivocal self-aggrandizing machinations of

an entirely conniving as well as a thoroughly

seasoned Lothario, whose deftly executed

but nevertheless unsupported flattering

declarations of undying love for me

consciously have no affinity at all

with the latter or for that matter,

credibly makes any concession

for the affirmation of reality.

A state of affairs, which if not examined by me and earnestly

challenged if necessary could in all probability, and at the

least, be ruthlessly, falsely, intentionally malevolently,

totally self-servingly and, in all of this, rather injuriously

to me, be unscrupulously employed to cast me back to

the entirely untenable situation that with substantial

difficulty, but even so, I did in the end succeed in

fleeing from. An appalling situation that had previously and

inescapably for me, while I was helplessly ensnared by it,

emphatically rendered me a nobody, who was likewise

perceived as somebody who was only worthy of the

greatest disdain; therefore, the uncivil appellation

which then in reality and now in most wounding

remembrance I still inescapably bear the scars

of, and don’t mind admitting that I do resent.

So what’s it to be my unfamiliar but all the same relentless

suitor? And before you sally forth with any of your glib

answers I’d like for you this time to think carefully

about what you might wish to say to me as you

likewise bear in mind this genuine request of

mine. For I’d personally like for you to supply me with an

honest and original answer whatever that might be. For

only then can I truly satisfy myself by what you’ve

said or crucially omitted in your explanation to

me whether, as you’d like for me to believe,

this supposed adoration by you for me is

genuinely the dawning of a bright and

rather meaningful future for the two

of us together. Or conceivably the

quite gripping but meretricious

beginning of an illusionary romantic mirage

that could well prove to be immeasurably

detrimental to the emotional welfare of

a still unsure of herself and therefore

a highly vulnerable woman like me!

1 November 2017.

Author’s Comments:

Inevitably, at some time or other, most people regardless of who they are, what their racial or ethnic origins might be, irrespective of their religious, agnostic or atheistic views, what they do or don’t do for a living, their personally identifiable class, social or educational background; their ingrained political loyalties or none, the power and or influence that they wield or more like than not the manipulated sycophancy that they readily subvert themselves to, how grotesquely and graspingly rich or generally pathetically and miserably poor they happen to be; how immaturely young or seasoned old they are, what their birth or subsequently acquired nationality is, the robust state or otherwise of their health and daily life, or where in the world they either choose or are forced to live, whether they’re incarcerated in prison or at liberty to live and lead their own life as they see fit, will unhappily and even emotionally destructive for them find themselves romantically spurned by at least one and possibly even several prospective lovers and thus be very much on the dismissive end of a love that they’ve both willingly and freely offered to another person but which in return is roundly rejected as it is likewise unreciprocated.

Well, there’s a general saying that there’s no accounting for personal taste and amidst the vicissitudes of everyday life when it actually comes to factoring into the love stakes this truism couldn’t be any more applicable than it already is. And not unsurprising in this love equation is how each affected individual specifically reacts to his or her romantic rejection that in turn depends on a number of tangible as well as imperceptible factors.

For instance, there are those who’ll use the fallout from their rejection, painful as it might be, to judiciously and sensibly re-examine their personal approach to all future romantic affairs that directly involve themselves and then use the information they’ve collated and the analysis they’re arrived at as a fitting platform to more solidly construct for themselves what exactly it is that they actually want from life in terms of romance, and having ascertained that accordingly get on with it.

Others though tend to dwell inordinately on their rejection and as a consequence of that become bitter and twisted persons for the rest of their life. However, there are those who on reflexion see their rejection as a providential escape for them and gratefully thank their lucky stars for the enforced situation that at the time they were placed in. But unfortunately there will be those who finding themselves utterly despondent at what has happened to them will seek release from their perceived shame and embarrassment by killing themselves.

Then there’s another category of persons who obsessively imbued with a manifestly pronounced and delusional sense of their own egotistical importance and the perverse notion of how dare anyone do something like this to me, will malevolently set out for the remainder of their pathetic life to exact revenge. And prompts the obvious question, for me anyway, which of these categories, or none of them, do you consider yourself as belonging to? Or perhaps you’re one of those android-type creatures totally and uncaringly devoid of all emotional feelings. And the characteristically sentient and sane among us Homo sapiens will intuitively know the sorts of individuals I’m specifically referring to.

For we routinely observe them on a daily basis unwarrantedly, incompetently, corruptly and criminally occupying our supposedly democratic, but we know otherwise, parliaments, other institutionalized fora of power and influence and effectively postulating themselves not only as parliamentarians but even more seriously and worryingly so as prime ministers, cabinet ministers and even presidents of our respective countries.

Disproportionately so, it must be cogently stated, to their actual numbers in the much wider population that significantly comprises us Homo sapiens and that these alien oiks have both manipulatively and controlling foisted themselves upon, while ludicrously and risibly, if it wasn’t such a bloody serious matter, ascribing to themselves the bogus epithet of the “privileged elites”. Among whom I often wonder? And so far I’ve been unable to discern either a clear-cut or convincing answer to this idiotic conundrum of theirs!

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collymore · 7 years

Text

I need a new start, not have the vestiges of my failed love life recycled for me! (Article)

By Stanley Collymore

You audaciously approached me and confidently introduced yourself to me, after which you gamely and interestingly spoke to me, a conversation in which quite engagingly you told me, while in the process dexterously persuading me with all the prowess that you could muster to listen to every word of what you were appealingly saying to me, and noticeably doing so with all the composure, absolute conviction and the unfettered sophistication of an unquestionably cultured and humorous gentleman who strikingly in elucidation but even so agreeably, calmly and assuredly knew with a perceptibly undiminished clarity and unbridled certainty what he was distinctly after. Then proceeded to totally and uninhibitedly readily convince me that from the very start – in effect the precise moment that you first saw me, you’d become completely and irresistibly besotted with me.

And consequently if how you felt about me was the undoubted stirrings of love for me, then quite unreservedly, as well as unapologetically, your unmitigated plea relative to how exactly you both emotionally and romantically cared for me was, you further candidly stated, most categorically simply a combined situation, in logical terms, of your being positively but at the same unashamedly guilty of having deeply and passionately fallen in love with me.

However, secretly on the rebound from a rather nasty, malevolently controlling, one-sidedly giving – you’ve guessed it absolutely correctly that it was exclusively me doing all the giving in that marital relationship – a particularly psychologically unrewarding, most damaging emotionally and an unfalteringly subjected to serially adulterous and a pernicious nightmare of a marriage that I eventually summoned up the courage to finally free myself from though divorcing my domineering brute of a husband.

And on having achieved that, my undoubted lack of self-confidence fastened to my perceived, deeply embedded and an intrinsically, socially fearful embarrassment of my being a failure as a wife that I firmly construed as being all my fault, and which previously and collectively had cowardly precluded me from lawfully embarking on what quite naturally and understandably should unequivocally have been an absolutely feasible, understandable and a common-sense course of action in logically filing for a divorce from this monster of a man I’d married, simply hadn’t happened.

But with that at last now done, and even though the unaccustomed practice of being a woman and completely on my own was still something of a disquieting novelty for me, I was even so very determined, as I optimistically did everything in my power to thoroughly reassure myself of this, that I was now individually at liberty to do what I genuinely thought was best for me and my future. And although I was fully cognizant what a problematic mission it would obviously be to permanently bury the past, totally forget what I’d terrifyingly and rather inappropriately constantly allowed myself to happen to me, while absolutely and forever discarding my undeniably feckless but prescribed role, in name only I shamefully confess, as a wife although fortunately and thank God not as a mother, and consequently in those gratefully escaped from and utterly dismally aforementioned circumstances intelligently, pragmatically and hopefully move on constructively with my life.

This is my earnest ambition and, in essence, what I would genuinely like for things in their fullest fruition but most specifically in respect of myself to be, although realistically the eventual outcome, I’m well aware, could very well be a wholly different scenario, in lots complicated and even quite puzzling ways, from what optimistically in my steadfast hopes and honest aspirations I would most certainly and undoubtedly prefer for the eventual end result to be.

Yet here you are, in effect and clearly something that I mustn’t conveniently overlook nor casually forget, a complete stranger in reality to me and what’s more saying the kind of intriguing things that my motivated heart truthfully wants to hear but on the contrary my distinctly wary head, however, is much more cautious about. And in this apparently confusing process powerfully throwing, I could very well honestly say, my entire emotional balance into a state of total disarray.

So how then am I supposed to honestly know let alone clear-headedly, accurately and unquestionably deduce with an absolute certainty that’s obviously and understandably triggered and effectively spurred on by the provocateurs of my previous and unhappy circumstances, that what you purposefully claim you’re sincerely saying to me isn’t fundamentally nothing more than the selfishly manufactured fantasy of a very vivid imagination that is itself coupled with the egotistical and deliberately unequivocal self-aggrandizing machinations of an entirely conniving as well as a thoroughly seasoned Lothario whose deftly executed but nevertheless unsupported flattering declarations of undying love for me designedly have no affinity whatsoever with the latter nor, for that matter, convincingly makes any allowance for the existence of reality.

A state of affairs that if not carefully examined by me and seriously challenged if necessary could in all probability, and at the very least, be ruthlessly, deceitfully, intentionally malevolently, totally self-servingly and, in all of this, most I injuriously to me be unscrupulously employed to cast me back to the wholly untenable situation which with considerable difficulty, but even so, I did finally manage to escape from. A deplorable situation that had previously and wholly inescapably for me while I was helplessly ensnared by it rendered me, most categorically, as a nobody who was likewise perceived as someone who was only worthy of the utmost contempt, and hence the ungracious appellation that then in reality and now in hurtful remembrance I still unavoidably bear the awful scars of and naturally very much resent.

So what’s it to be my unfamiliar but unrelenting suitor? And before you sally forth with one or several of your glib answers I’d like for you this time to think very carefully about what you might wish to say to me, as you also seriously bear in mind this genuine request of mine. For I’d personally like for you to candidly provide me with an honest and original answer whatever that in itself might be. For only then can I realistically satisfy myself by what you’ve said or crucially omitted in your explanation to me whether, as you’d like for me to believe, this supposed adoration by you for me is truly the dawning of a bright and meaningful future together for the two of us. Or more possibly the compelling but meretricious inception of an illusionary romantic mirage that could very well prove to be immensely inimical to the emotional welfare of a still unsure of herself and therefore a highly vulnerable woman like me.

For instance, there are those who’ll use the fallout from their rejection, painful as it might be, to judiciously and sensibly re-examine their personal approach to all future romàntic affairs that directly involve themselves and then use the information they’ve collated and the analysis they’re arrived at as a fitting platform to more solidly construct for themselves what exactly it is that they actually want from life in terms of romance, and having ascertained that accordingly get on with it.

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