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#i dont know if im distorting reality again
hexpatient · 2 months
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another fucking miserable cycle of violence:
therapsychiatrist: you never know until you try! :)
me: i have tried. multiple times in different ways. really really tried. lots of times repeatedly and it failed.
therapsychiatrist: .... anyways, you never know until you try! (Bonus points for:) Thinking you know it will go poorly this time because it has gone poorly all the othertimes is a Fortune Telling Cognitive distortion! you never know until you try! :)
this is 1. gaslighting 2. if it's negative, it's a lie, or your fault 3. toxic positivity 4. the obfuscation of knowledge and reality testing by disregarding what has happened all previous times and acting like it has zero significance (which i suppose is also just gaslighting but. i wanted to be more specific.)
not to mention, the MANY MANY times i did try again for real, and reported back that it failed again! who'da thunk! they blamed it on my mindset or sabotage or my negative thoughts poisoning the outcome (new age thought magics). i dont even remember how many times this happened. trying to prove i know what imtalking about, increasingly losing grip on reality because what kept happening was that things didnt go well, but it was fully denied or blamed on me, and so i kept trying and kept trying and kept trying and kept trying,
what exactly was i trying? i was trying to get my mom to stop abusing me by telling her what she did hurt me and asking her to stop. other times it was like, insensitive peers jeering at me or being rude or cruel to me in group therapy, and when i told the therapist i didn't trust them, she just told me to give them a chance????? and other kinds of things that were harmful to me just to try! that took bravery and effort and difficulty that i made myself incredibly vulnerable by trying repeatedly.
and i got hurt. i got hurt repeatedly. and i kept trying because i was not allowed to just say "this is fucking toxic! im going to stop making myself vulnerable! or otherwise doing stupid bullshit like asking my abuser nicely to stop abusing me!!!"
it broke me. my self esteem, my sense of danger, my ability to recognize a bad situation/person, my knowledge and grip on reality, my respect for myself and my sensitive parts (intimate knowledge and vulnerable inner bits), and it quite literally became a compulsion to recklessly dive head first into situations that were not going well, because you never know until you try! give it a chance! and never fucking stop no matter HOW BADLY IT GOES!! never stop!! never give up! and making myself as vulnerable as possible. and i still am trying to stop doing this.
i am having to try and teach myself how to not compulsively endanger myself anymore. so yeah science based health care.
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rainfallbeats · 1 year
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IDK HOW EDIBLES WORK OK
*slaps my hands on the table* thats ok because i do!
this post ended up being multiple paragraphs long and contains a lot of personal stories so if youre still interested its under the cut. tw for drug use obviously
now granted i havent had that many of them and the only kind ive had were these cookies my brother made but good LORD. sweet JESUS they were strong. like STUPID strong. i remember he prefaced giving me them with "i ate one and thought i was a little worm wiggling in the dirt" and i was like ok i think i can handle it
i could not handle it. strong edibles will slonk your shit silly style. theyre a bit different than smoking because it kinda all kicks in at once, smoking is usually a milder high unless its like a bong rip. i remember one time it kicked in and i could barely get the words "guys i think the edible hit" out before breaking into a 10 minute laughing fit. i was on another plane i was shot up to the moon
and again these were particularly strong ones it really just depends on the strain of weed and the dosage, but some of the effects ive experienced are as follows:
everything is funny. like everything ever is funny. i will just laugh for any reason if im high enough, you could jangle keys in front of my face and id start cry laughing. weed kind of just makes you stupid like that. ive noticed it helps with the adhd too because ill finally have the patience to sit down and watch things or do tasks without getting irritated
pain numbing/weird funny skin feeling. ive noticed that i usually feel warm when the weed kicks in and thats usually followed by like a tingly feeling and a reduced ability to feel pain. this is nice bc im an idiot who gave myself back pain from sitting weird so this makes it go away. probably not anywhere near as effective for that purpose as pain meds but ive never been on any prescription pain meds or anything that wasnt like, ibuprofen so i dont know
food tastes really fucking good. ive considered going back on my adhd meds with recreational weed bc the meds were an appetite suppressant and thats why i had to stop taking them. weed will make you hungry as FUCK and everything you eat will taste better
lower impulse control, this one is kind of a bad side effect because if you were already thinking about doing stupid shit and you get high then youre gonna do it. one time i was on call with a friend and kept chewing on my fingers til they were bruised bc i wanted to chew on something
slowed perception of time/distorted perception of reality. this one is either scary or cool depending on the person but i find it enjoyable. time will slow DOWN like minutes will feel like hours. every splatoon match i play while high is the longest one of my life, and ive found i usually perform better in games because im less stressed and more just absorbed in what im doing. that combined with the fact that my brain blurs the line between whats real and fake so if im playing a game itll feel real to me. i will be staring at the inside of the grizzco building and feel like im actually there, its crazy. playing video games while high is fun
ive noticed that if i get too high i kinda feel dizzy and not in control of my body, my head feels like its underwater and ill be sitting there rocking back and forth waiting to come down a little. which would be scarier but thanks to the funny giggly chemicals its not that bad. but its also not pleasant when youre in a social situation and want to try to act normal
im not actually sure what me dumping all this info accomplishes but maybe someone will see it and itll help them write a character that smokes weed or something. and like granted these are only my own experiences and not everyone is gonna share them but regardless, thank you for the ask
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bulkhummus · 3 years
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Welcome to Night Vale SPOILERS/////
listened to wtnv 171 again and having big thoughts and feelings about a cecils literal manic episode about (literally, heavily implied) killing the version of himself in the mirror while on public radio in light of wtnv 192
some quotes that really got my gears turning regarding the big plot drop of supposedly cecils father and his inability to remember correctly (not new But really prevalent in recent episodes) and im not making connections or anything im just drunk and spitballing and the episode really had some gnarly philosophical questions dinnit?
1. “If you think about a memory long enough, doesn’t that mutate the truth? Isn’t every act of remembering another log on the fire of lies?”
“You think awareness and manifestation are one and the same, don’t you?”
vs
“Could that [a crack] be an egg, or a twig, or a leg? Narrative is everything, isn’t it?”
An unreliable narrative is one of my favorite things in story telling. One of my favorite books has to do with the unreliability of memory, and how a distorted memory (from time, trauma, bias etc) comes to be the most accurate version each time you remember it. It gets watered down each time. I think its cool that Cecil is aware of that, and also that its understandably a huge point of distress for him. He’s constantly misremembering and eventually trying to decipher if what he feels or thinks is even real. Pulling things out of context often makes them seem crazy, when there is no narrative to connect them. Cecil’s job is literally to offer that narrative, but what happens when he can no longer supply a somewhat coherent one? What happens to Night Vale? Why does cat ballou not hold up anymore? also i love that cecil watches the movie on repeat (mentioned at some point) bc its like that thing about people who are anxious like to watch things theyve seen because its low stakes and you know whats gonna happen and you dont have to make space for new story or characters in your head? IMAGINE PUTTING ON YOUR COMFORT MOVIE TO FIND THAT ITS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT???????? ouch
2.“When was the last time you saw your mother?…Did she lean over your sobbing face and ask you: ‘Why are you crying when you don’t even exist?’ Did she tell you again about the mirror?’”
vs
“What unholy monster [the one in the mirror] cries like a child, what does it want—Why won’t it stop?!”
“Did you ponder the idea that such a coat was so basic, [angrily] so unassuming, so without frill or feature that no one had ever thought to create it? [angrily, scarily] Do you want to know what’s in the drawer below the table?”
I like here, that these quotes are kind of like call and response within the episode. Cecil talks of his mother asking him why hes crying, and moments later Cecil wonders why the monster in the mirror is crying. His mother tells him he doesn’t exist (SO fucked up) and moments later he’s the angriest he is the whole episode (voice literally rumbling goddamN BALDWIN) talking about how something could be so unassuming that no one bothered to even spend the time or energy to make it. Didn’t think anybody would need it or want it. Why else would they include that angry thought about being so unneeded that the thought never even crossed a persons mind to make the thing? It it weren’t Cecil talking about himself? Panicking about his existence and if he’d ever been wanted or needed to the point of him being there for whoever does?
2. B —“You didn’t ask for any of this, did you? But what have you ever asked from the universe that you could not get yourself, and when has the universe ever obliged?”
c-carlos? Maybe is that one thing possibly, good, that has simply happened to cecil ??? (And Their SON??? Obviously but that wouldn’t have happened without carlos there) im just thinkin abt it
3. “What was it your mother said before she left home when you were a teenager? Did she tell you she was an oracle?”
CECIL IS AN ORACLE!!!!!!!!!!!!! LIKE I wrote a big long rant about wtnv 192 and now I listened to this episode and had a conniption when he mentioned her disdainfully being one. A mother telling a child they know them and who they are can feel like divine truth, and if they call you a monster and tell you that you don’t exist, then is it still divine truth? Is she still all knowing? Do you believe her because shes your mother and mothers know best?
4. Do you notice it wears black rings?”
Cecil says this of the monster in the mirror, and says this about the man digging into the tree in wtnv 192, and he thinks that that man is his father. BUT if the monster in the mirror is the cecil we know, who killed the mirror version of himself from another reality who was a teenager (as it’s been implied since cassettes and the intern anyways) then what does that imply???? oy vey
IN CONCLUSION : none of this is literally an essay about anything. Im just drunk on a sunday and put on night vale To fold clothes. i wonder if other people in night vale are as fragmented by the weird reality bubble they are in as cecil? he seems to be caught in the in between one foot in and out With cal and his father and sometimes knowing carlos and sometimes not and whatnot
ALSO AS A FUNNY SIDE BAR: IMAGINE BEING A PERSON IN NIGHT VALE maybe u just cooked dinner maybe ur taking a drive and the fucking local radio host is just having a manic episode with severe instances of unreality (in every sense of the word) on the radio ?????? i so deeply wish after weird episodes like these where cecil is just balling out in the disassociation soup that in the following episode someone would say something about it in passing like “yeah what WAS that the other night cecil? u know we can hear u when u do that right”
also in the REAL world like our world, cecil is a direct metaphor for ptsd, feelings of unreality brought on by anxiety, period of disassociation and just like the mental state being fragmented by trauma. Its like such a direct metaphor lmao.
also like the episode had everything and Cecil Baldwin really used the full command of his voice. truly bonkers, that he could pack so many different emotions into a 25 min spiraling monologue. it could have been so boring but he really organically (while still imploring Cecil palmers flare for radio host dramatics) had the full decadent range of delicious anger, fear, disdain, apathy, panic, disgust, demand, hollow joy, etc and that he sounds so BITTER at the end when he says “wont you have a good night, night vale?” it feels like such a slap to the listeners face because while we get to end the episode (and the town in the show), cecil palmer continues to writhe in these questions and worries and fears. Like it was SUCH a good way to end it.
—also all the funky sound design is so good and I like then warped version of the main theme! they should do more of that (tastefully)
if you’ve read this far godspeed and keep on trucking idk what the fuck was in that vodka lemonade but im wired
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years
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VALERIE - Part IV. (Harry Styles)
hello loves!! thank you so much for the feedbacks on the previous part, i love to see your thoughts at reactions so please keep them coming for the upcoming parts as well! i was informed that the posts weren’t showing up under the hashtags bc i had an extrernal link to the spotify playlist, so that won’t be available in the next parts, but you’ll always be able to find it in the masterpost if you’d like to give it a listen! those were the songs i listened to while writing the story! now, i dont want to keep you up any longer, here is part 4, one of my personal favs, and im excitedly waiting for your feedbacks on the post! have a wonderful reading!
word count: 4.5k
SERIES MASTERPOST
masterlist
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Valerie is curiously watching her dad work on the portable bed they’ve brought over for the night, her little hands clutching onto Rosa’s shirt as she is telling you all about the list she has made for you. It’s not a long one, but you try to focus on every word she says, making sure you won’t mess anything up.
“I put an X behind the important ones,” she explains pointing at the paper and you nod, eyes roaming down on the few X’s on the list. “The other ones are just suggestions, things I thought you should know.
“Got it,” you nod again, biting into your bottom lip. Bath time, feeding, sleep time, everything is covered in the list and you’re happy she even mentioned the smallest details. Some things might be natural for her as she’s been doing it for months, but it’s your first time completely alone with a baby. You surely don’t want to mess this up, especially because you want her to trust you and let you look after Valerie more often. They deserve a break now and then.
Steven finishes the bed and backs out a few stuffed animals along with two blankets into it, making it look cozy and familiar for Val.
“But most importantly,” Rosa starts and you look her in the eyes. “Call us anytime if you need help or want us to take her home, and I mean it.”
“Not gonna happen,” you shake your head, earning a sigh from your sister.
“Y/N, I’m serious. We are thankful for the help, but it’s not your duty, alright? Just call us anytime, really.”
Nodding your head you flash a smile at her, knowing well nothing on Earth is gonna make you call them tonight. Okay, maybe there are some cases when you would call, but those are quite unlikely to happen.
She hands Valerie over who curiously eyes you before grabbing a handful of your shirt and making herself busy with the fabric.
“It’s gonna be fine. Have a great night, you deserve it,” you smile at them. Steven straightens up and curls an arm around Rosa’s waist as they watch Val in awe, clearly a little worried they are gonna spend an entire night without her, but you can tell they also can’t wait for some alone time.
“Alright, we should get going,” Rosa sighs and stepping closer she kisses Valerie’s head and then your cheek as well. “Have fun with your aunty! We’ll be back for you in the morning, Sweetie.”
She runs her hand over her little head and Valerie smiles at her happily, completely oblivious to what’s really happening. The joys of being just a baby!
Steven says goodbye to her as well and you all head to the door. 
“So, we’ll be here around eight, she is usually up by six. Do you want us to pick her up sooner?” Rosa asks standing at the front door.
“Sooner? I was about to tell you to sleep a little longer, you don’t have to come so early.”
“But we don’t want to take away your whole day, you need to rest too,” Steven explains, worry all over his face.
“Stop worrying about me, I’ll be fine. Just enjoy your night off! Come on, I’m throwing you guys out, time for the sleepover to start,” you tell them, shushing them out the door. 
It takes some time to finally get them to leave, but they eventually do. Then it’s just the two of you, alone for the first time.
“Ready for your first sleepover, Val?” you ask her, standing in the hallway of your apartment. She just stares back at you, saliva drooling from her mouth but even that looks cute on her. “Alright, let’s do this.”
You braced yourself for the worst. Thought about all the possibilities how the evening would go, but you hoped they wouldn't become reality. Unfortunately, baby Valerie had different plans for the two of you.
The first hour goes by fine. You feed her, have a little play time, reading her favorite book to her, but slowly, you notice her losing interest in anything and everything. Soon enough, you see her face distort into a grimace and a few moments later she starts crying and it’s straight downhill from there. 
Nothing can get her to stop. No food, no toy, absolutely nothing. You clown around, trying everything that pops into your mind that would calm her down, but it doesn’t seem like she is about to stop anytime soon. 
You start to panic. Rosa told you how fussy she is because of her teeth coming, but you didn’t think it would be this bad. When she’s been crying for an entire hour straight, for a split second, you think about calling Rosa. 
“No, not gonna do that,” you say, while Val is still screaming in your arms. “Valerie, what do you want? Tell me and I’ll give it to you, I promise! Just please stop crying!” you whine desperately, but, no surprise, no answer comes from the screaming babe in your arms, just more tears, puffy eyes and red cheeks from all the crying she’s been doing.
Trying to rock her into calmness you are moving around in the apartment when you hear your phone ringing. You instantly think it’s gonna be Rosa, wanting to check in on you, but how are you gonna answer the call when Valeries is screaming from the top of her lungs? She’ll come to pick her up straight away, no doubt about that.
Rushing into the kitchen you are relieved to see that it’s just Harry calling you.
“It’s not the best of times, Styles,” you sigh as you answer the call and put him on the speaker, leaving the phone on the countertop, so you have both your hands free for Valerie.
“Hey, I was just-- what the fuck is happening?” he asks hearing the deadly cries of Val through the line. “Is that Valerie?”
“It is! I’m looking after her so Rosa and Steven can celebrate their anniversary, but she just wouldn’t stop crying! I don’t know what to do!” 
You’re absolutely desperate. It’s so bad you can feel your throat closing up, nearing the edge of your patience, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, but you tell yourself only one of you can cry at a time and Val has taken that spot quite some time ago, not even giving you a moment to let loose.
“Text me your address, I’m leaving now,” he orders and you snap your head towards the phone.
“What? No, Harry--”
“Just text me the damn address, Y/N!” he barks and the line cuts off right away. 
Your desperation pairs with shock now, not knowing what to think about this short, but quite eventful conversation you just had with him. It takes you a few moments to collect your thoughts, but you end up sending him your address. 
Nothing changes in the twenty minutes while you are waiting to hear anything from Harry following your text to him. Valerie keeps crying with three seconds of pauses when she takes a few deep breaths only to start screaming once again. Aside from the headache she is causing you, it’s becoming pretty impressive how long she’s been doing it. You probably would have fainted by now, but it seems like Valerie is running on an endless battery.
“You are really making it hard for me to be a cool aunt, Val,” you mumble, the baby still in your arms as the tears keep rolling down her face. Your light grey shirt is now soaking wet, both from her tears and your sweat from the anxiety she is giving you, mixed with some other things you choose to ignore where they came from.
The doorbell makes you jump, but Valerie doesn’t even bat an eye at the sound, she just keeps going.
“You need to teach me how to have this much energy,” you mumble under your breath as you walk over to the door. 
Opening it you find yourself staring up at Harry who is wearing a brown coat, dark jeans and a black hoodie. If you had to guess what he was doing on this weekend evening you would have said he was out with friends somewhere, picking up girls, but he surely doesn’t look like he was anywhere else than his home, the clothes are hanging messily on his frame, like he just threw them on in a rush.
His green eyes look straight at you at first before moving over to the crying child in your arms. You fully expect him to say something along the lines of “this is the kind of effect you have on others” comment, but it seems like he notices the fear and despair in your eyes and he keeps his mouth shut.
“I honestly have no idea what to do,” you choke out and the tears start flowing from your eyes as well, making Harry have to deal with now two crying human beings.
“Oh my, please don’t cry, I can’t take two crying women at once,” Harry begs as he steps inside and shuts the door behind him. Turning to face you he reaches for Valerie, you hand her over to him, hoping she would magically stop the crying, but she clearly couldn’t care less.
“Why, can you take one?” you ask with a bitter chuckle as you wipe your cheeks.
“Not really,” he admits, making you smile. “So what have you tried?” he asks as he starts swaying and rocking Valerie in hopes of getting her to stop, but not even Harry’s charm stands a chance with her right now. Deep down you’re happy you weren’t the reason she got so fussy and upset, would have been pretty awkward if she stopped the moment Harry took her into his arms. 
“Literally everything,” you huff, shoulders falling forward. “I went over the list Rosa gave me, tried everything, but she wouldn’t stop. She’s teething, but this is… It seems like there might be something else maybe?” you tell him worried that something serious might be behind her behavior. You really don’t want to call and bother Rosa, but you are nearing the point where you’ll give up and ask for help.
“Maybe she needs to be changed?” Harry suggests holding her up, giving her butt a sniff, but you roll your eyes at him.
“You don’t think that was one of the first things I did? She is as clean as she could be. Maybe I should just call Rosa,” you sigh in defeat reaching for your phone but Harry snaps at you.
“No! Don’t, we can figure this out. Steven has been so excited to have a night off, we can’t ruin this for them. Come on, we have to have the slightest parenting skills and solve this without them.”
Nodding you agree with him, but you’ve completely run out of ideas.
“So what do you suggest?”
You can see the gears turning in Harry’s head as he is trying to come up with a plan, but it’s not like either of you have any experience with babies. The idea of calling Rosa is starting to burn in the back of your head, fear of failing this challenge taking over your thoughts.
Then Harry looks at you with a look that screams that he has an idea. You’re just about to ask what came into his mind when all of a sudden he starts to sing.
“Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water, and I think of all the things what you’re doing and in my head I paint a picture…”
You instantly recognize Amy Whinehouse’s iconic song, the one that’s also behind Valerie’s name, you know that for sure. Rosa was obsessed with the song growing up, she would sing it on the way to school, in the shower or while making dinner. You weren’t surprised she chose this name for her first daughter.
What surprises you that Harry sings like a literal angel. He hits the notes perfectly, nailing the lines like not many can and you listen to him with parted lips, eyebrows raised. This was the last thing you expected from him, but then again, it’s not the first time Harry has surprised you through the years of knowing him.
Valerie stops for a moment, her hiccups shaking through her body as her tear-filled eyes look up to Harry, and you both think this is gonna be the moment when she finally calms down, but he doesn’t even reach the chorus before she starts crying again, a defeated sigh erupting from him.
“Maybe she wants it instrumental,” you suggest and Harry gives you one of those ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ looks as you leave to run down the hallway, right into your bedroom.
“How am I supposed to make it instru-- what the hell, Y/N?!” He gives you a weirded out look when you return with a guitar in your hands. “Since when do you play the guitar?” 
“Since like… eighth grade,” you tell him as you sit on the couch and holding the guitar on your lap you try to find the right accords. “I told you, you know nothing about me.”
Harry nods with a surprised but amazed look on his face as your fingers strum against the chords. It takes a few minutes but you figure it out and glancing up you give a questioning look to Harry.
“From the start?” you ask and he nods his head, continuously bouncing up and down to try to calm Val down.
You start playing the song and soon enough Harry joins you with the singing, the two of you perfectly nailing it even without any practice.
“Stop makin’ a fool out of me, why don’t you come on over, Valerie?”
Maybe it’s the guitar, maybe it’s the singing or maybe the fact that the song has her name in it, but by the time you reach the halfway point in the song Valerie’s crying slowly starts to fade. You instantly share a look with Harry, but don’t stop, fearing that she might start again if the music stops. 
Her tear soaked cheeks smooth out as she is not screaming anymore and you can actually see her irises finally, her long lashes are sticking together from the salty tears and you know it’s gonna take some time for her to regain her normal state, but at least the crying has stopped. 
“‘Cause since I’ve come on home, well, my body’s been a mess. And I’ve missed your ginger hair and the way you like to dress…”
You tear your eyes off Valerie for a second, letting yourself wander over Harry’s features as he sings. He slightly furrows his eyebrows focusing on the lines, so his forehead has a few creases on it. His lips form the words so clearly and elegantly, you wonder how often he sings. Is it something he only does when he is on his own or he likes to perform as well? 
The only time when you heard him sing was at the bar when the two of you slayed the karaoke machine with that Avril Lavigne song. You were smashed by then, you remember that he had a nice voice but it was the last thing you paid attention to. Besides, he was kind of equally drunk as you, it was all for just fun, but now is a completely different situation. 
It’s no surprise Valerie finds his voice soothing, you’d probably stop whatever you were doing if you heard him sing. There are people with a good voice and then there are the ones that not just have a good voice but also that small something, that extra magic in them that makes you melt as their voice caress your ears. Harry is definitely the second case, for a moment you forget where you are or why he is there singing. It’s just his voice and the gentle strumming of your fingers on the chords. 
At the end of the song he starts repeating Valerie as the song slowly fades into nothing and you both stare at the little girl in his arms, clearly afraid she might start crying again. Unfortunately, your reservations become valid when you see the corners of her mouth curls down and you and Harry share a shocked look immediately.
“What else can you play?” he urges as Val whimpers in his arms, letting you know she does not appreciate that the singing has stopped. 
“Shit, shit! Um, something from ABBA?” you propose and Harry nods quickly, not even asking which song you know, so you take it as a sign that he probably knows all of them.
The first song that comes to your mind is Andante, Andante and you don’t hesitate to start playing again, just in time. Valerie was just about to start crying again, but as soon as the melody hit her little ears she calmed down and listened to it with tired looking eyes.
“Take it easy with me, please. Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze…” Harry sings the words and you can’t hold a smile back as he, once again, hits the notes just perfectly without missing a beat.
You’re convinced there’s not one person on Earth who has never heard a single Abba song, most of the population knows them by heart, but somehow you couldn’t really imagine Harry to be a person who knows the lyrics to the songs as well. But he does and sings it without messing it up even just once. It’s hard to imagine a younger version of Harry singing ABBA songs when they come on the radio, but the more you think about it the more the picture paints itself in your mind.
Valerie lays her head to Harry’s chest, stuffing her thumb into her mouth as she listens to the performance. She is probably enjoying the vibrance of his voice shaking through his chest and maybe this is what brings her the peace she’s been looking for all this time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of them.
Harry glances at you, eyes so soft you melt under his gaze. However nerve wrecking it was to have Valerie scream for hours, she is still the cutest little thing ever as she rests her head on his chest, her long blinks giving it away she has definitely lost most of her energy. 
You don’t dare to stop the singing and playing. When you near the end of a song you quickly think of something else and whisper it over to Harry, who then gives his feedback on it with either a nod or a shake of his head. Most of the time he knows the songs you suggest so the show continues without a stop. 
Half an hour passes by when you see her eyes slowly closing. You still don’t stop though, only when Harry tries to listen to her breathing and he realizes that it was completely slowed down. She is out.
“Holy shit,” you breathe out quietly, your fingers feeling numb from the playing. You haven’t had a guitar in your hands for this long in a while, probably for years. Harry shares your relief, his throat has completely dried out and he is happy to finally breathe evenly, not just sneak a few breaths in between lines. 
“And now what?” he mouths as he is still gently swaying around with the sleeping Valerie in his arms. You put the guitar aside and check if she is for real asleep. Her long lashes are spread out on her puffy cheeks, gently snoozing into Harry’s chest as if she weren’t screaming for dear life just an hour ago. 
“Let’s put her down,” you whisper and nod at him to follow you. 
Reaching your bedroom you only switch your bedside lamp on so the light doesn’t wake her up. Pushing the stuffed animals to the side you grab the blankets and let Harry do the critical job. Leaning down he oh so slowly starts to pull her away from his chest, careful not to move too suddenly, it all feels like in those action movies when they are trying to get through the lasers without triggering the alarm. One bad move and the screaming threatens to start again and that’s the last thing you want, after all you’ve done to calm her down. 
You don’t even realize it but as you watch her little head reach the mattress you hold your breath, almost wincing upon seeing Harry’s hands slide out from under her sleeping frame. As if you wait for something to go wrong, both of you freeze for a moment, expecting her to start moving around and wake up, but she stays still. 
Eyes snapping up to Harry, you exchange a look and then you both head to the door, careful not to make any noise that can possibly shake Valerie up from her dreams.
“This was more tiring than running a marathon,” he huffs, throwing himself to the couch and you do the same next to him. 
“Have you ever run a marathon?”
“No,” he confidently answers and you look over at him with a puzzled look. “But I can imagine how tiring it is.”
You let out a chuckle, letting your eyes close for just a little bit. You haven’t even had the chance to realize how much this whole struggle with Val sucked the energy out of you, but now that you’re half lying on the couch it hits you all at once.
“I should get going,” you hear Harry mumble, clearly just as tired as you are, but he doesn’t move. 
“Mhm,” you hum, feeling yourself drift to sleep.
Neither of you moves and it doesn’t take a whole five minutes for the both of you to completely doze off.
The next time you wake up you feel an arm curled around your waist and someone is definitely pressed up against you while your back is against the back of the couch. It takes you a couple of moments and some blinking to realize it’s Harry you are all snuggled up to and the reason why you woke up is because Valerie is crying again. 
“Shit,” you mumble to yourself, mind still groggy from the sleep as you push yourself up on the couch. Just moments later Harry’s eyes flush open and you’re not sure it’s because of the crying or because you moved next to him. His arm slides off you as he looks around a little confused about his surroundings.
You don’t have the chance to think about how the two of you ended up cuddling on the couch, though it lingers in the back of your mind. Basically crawling over Harry you rush into your bedroom where Valerie is lying in her bed crying. It’s a different kind of cry, not like the one you were stuck with for hours before and you know she must be hungry.
“Ah, come on, little girl. It’s alright,” you coo at her scooping her into your arms. She immediately cuddles to your chest hiccupping against it, her little hands fisting your shirt. You leave to go to the kitchen and feed her, but just as you’re about to step out of the room you bump into Harry.
You bounce back from his chest, but his hand immediately reaches for you and grabs your arm, holding you in case you might fall back.
“Sorry,” you breathe out, thoughts still foggy a little. “She’s… hungry,” you explain, but he is standing so close to you, you can feel his body’s warmth and it instantly ignites the memory of being pressed against his side on the couch just moments ago and you can’t stop yourself from inhaling a shaky breath. 
“Let me help,” he croaks out and the two of you walk into the kitchen. Putting on her bib you hand her over to Harry who sits with her on his lap on a stoop as you get the baby food, warm it a little before joining the two of them and you slowly start feeding her.
“What time is it?” you ask realizing you have no idea how long you two have been asleep on the couch.
“It’s three am,” Harry answers before smiling down at Val. “Good job, Val!” he hums watching her take the spoon into her mouth.
You finish up feeding her, then give a try at burping her even though Rosa said it’s not necessary anymore. She just hums to herself so you head back to the bedroom, her eyes already threatening to close. By the time you put her back to the bed she is out again, so no private show is needed this time.
Walking out of the room you see Harry putting on his shoes and coat. For a split second you feel disappointed that he is leaving, but then your rational side puts you to your place. Of course he is leaving! Val is fine now, there’s no other reason for him to stay, right?
“Harry,” you softly say and he looks at you. “Can you please not tell Rosa and Steven that I needed help with Val?” you quietly ask, though there’s no doubt your eyes are practically begging him.
“No way I’ll ever admit to Steven that I sang ABBA to his child, so don’t worry about it,” he chuckles making you smile as well. 
“Thank you. And for helping me as well. I was really close to giving it up,” you admit folding your arms on your chest as Harry stands at the front door, hand on the door knob as he is looking back at you.
“No problem. Now you owe me one,” he smirks and you can’t hold yourself back from rolling your eyes.
“Sure,” you say with an airy chuckle. “Good night, Harry.”
“Good night, Y/N,” he smiles at you sweetly before opening the door and walking out. 
You take his place at the door and watch him walk down the eerily quiet hallway. He turns back to you one last time waving in your way and you nod back smiling before he disappears around the corner.
Closing the door you lean your back against it, taking a deep breath. Your eyes wander over to the couch where you and Harry were sleeping not so long ago. The feeling of his arm around you is still burned into your mind and you breathe in shakily as a memory snaps into your head of the exact same thing, only years earlier.
You lied almost exactly like that in his hotel room that night. His strong arms wrapped around you as you had your head laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was slightly faster than the normal. Though you were still quite drunk, this feeling imprinted into your memories, because you felt so safe with him. Like nothing could ever hurt you if he was there with you.
Unfortunately, that feeling faded into nothing when you woke up in the morning quite fast. But this time, instead of disappointment and disgust, the only thing you still feel is the emptiness at the lack of his touch. 
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passifloramoonlight · 3 years
Text
I know I said I wanted to heal all traumas but I feel them coming at me all of them at once, like an open wound across my heart and soul that hurts at times even more than the physical wound.
I barely touched enlightenment out of sheer desperation to heal my soul but now i dont know whats the difference between experiencing all trauma all over again and watching myself unable to cope and overcome, and actual healing… I want to take this as the chance to be gracious and heal but I feel like Im failing
I thought I was love and abundance but reality hit and I am again less and less, feeling guilty and ashamed of myself. I don’t understand why and everyday has so much ups and downs my soul feels crushed. Im not convenient anymore, I am a burden, I am a fraud, I am weak, I am scared… Those intrusive thoughts and my distorted perception… its 2013 all over again except I wish with everything it wasn’t
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almasidaliano · 2 years
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epiphanies pt. 2 oct.19 238:
hai :&
fun fact about being a poet, or- writer; wherever i fall- sometimes you haven't the slightest idea what you need to say, but you have to write.
that's why i'm typing now.. slowly, unsurely. waiting for the light to flicker on and for it all to make sense.
good things are coming i think. and i should be happy right? i mean like ecstatic you know?.... fuck that.
maybe i should be laying on someone's couch disclosing this, however i choose to believe it reaches whom it needs, and even if this exhale isn't the one that helps me breathe at least it gives me space to take another breath, that being said:
fear does not exist. i have no fears. i'm not scared of anything. and the world thinks your reality has to be trafficking, and civil war for you to be numb to the ugliness. ugly has no concrete image, just characteristics.
my brother is dead. the love of my life, the only peace ive ever known is dead. a cousin i lost touch with years ago, one of the few on my maternal side that simply was as he existed is dead. a cousin i hardly remember is dead as well. a great aunt, a great grandfather, and a step grandfather as well. i attended two of those funerals. i stared at two lifeless bodies meant to placehold my loved ones. two lifeless bodies i could hardly recognize. bodies so cold, so stiff. i still dont understand how a body weighs anything with no soul to keep it grounded. why don't souls stay and bodies leave?
if i stay silent did i deserve it? shouldnt i have known better? you would think i would know better? nothing ever came of speaking out anyway..
imagine-- the sweetest girl, an athlete. active, beautiful, intellectual, selfless, caring.. she never had a place to "fit in", she always squeezed to fit until she was pushed out; naturally she moved around. she didn't like girly things. she wasn't filled out at first. pretty is safe, im realizing now, pretty and cute are safe.. she is naive. growing up with boy cousins and mostly brothers being one of the guys just felt like home. i suppose people are raised differently.. imagine she has this group of friends something like a family from after school programs. she is family oriented but her family tree is distorted. is she the apple that fell from a poisoned tree and tainted this one? is she to blame to the tragedy to come.. one by one her "brothers" cross a line, every time, all but one.. and one friend was fine. little did she know, when they grew up he too go would go.. the shocking part was that he felt entitled to her skin without her knowing.. everything about this recollection is disturbing. and the only time i tried to get this out, the wound was left open and the responses that i got ensured it wouldnt soon be closing. i want to scream, but i wont. i want to cry, but i dont. because i feel like everyone who has violated me will know. and they dont get that power.
im sorry. to those who feel #metoo.. because it took something like 3 years and it happening again, for me to truly realize im too weak to defend myself. too paralyzed. im cynical. im patient. if i fight i lose, if i freeze, i lose. being trapped removes the flight option, so i lose. no matter what i do. imagine conquering insomnia (kind of) just to never sleep again. because thats when he decided to invade you.
i have control over my worth, my confidence, me. and yet all that i can do is place accountability on me. for believing in humanity.
do you know how many times people promise to protect me? do you know the only one that did is dead now? ....
i wish i didnt ruin everything. i wish i was what people see/saw..
i wish i could still be me, without any of the pain at all..
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hm. what if i made a post abt how ppl like to question the use of why is nobody talking about this spread this info now if ur not stupid and evil often for a lot of questionable reasons but there also comes a time when we must acknowledge the way this has among other things genuinely distorted our ability to process current events as it heavily relies on abbreviated "recaps" of events often littered with misinformation or the secondhand misinformation of failing to provide adequate context and also like the nuance in the fact that this presents differently when someone is sharing information abt the experience of their own personal community vs what u see a lot with global events where um as an american with half their family out of the US i can at least speak from the experience of colombian events and by a small extension for its stronger US news presence venezuela that regardless of well meaning esp bc again this has just become so standard just my opinion but i personally find it much more condescending to misrepresent peoples realities instead of doing your best to source facts and accounts from actual community members and share THOSE without deciding you, who does not have full cultural context, are enough of an authority... which btw despite my knowing enough to be annoyed at misrepresentations of latin american news this includes myself also not being enough of an authority, as i do not live there and am not personally experiencing those events. what i do know bc of this is that there are real ppl in every one of these places lol who um have voices and are capable of speaking and having lives independent of americans and thus it is not hard to comprehend that there are people you can seek out clarification from if u have a genuine interest in spreading awareness and support. like personal identity rly has its limits on how much it matters in these situations... im aware its meant to serve the opposite purpose but i just dont get how no one else seems to find it so dehumanizing to openly portray yourself as refusing to listen to the people u are claiming to support blinding yourself to foreign cultural contexts because you have decided what narrative to assign it like im rly looking all my fellow second gen diaspora members in the eye here tbh it's one thing to say on my personal accounts what i think of ecuadorian politics and another to claim myself an authority on what has happened demanding others promote my take just bc my family is south american like it is not forbidden to be wrong or have feelings or talk about whatever the hell u want it is not a bad thing to comment on global events and slip up in your attempts to stay informed lol we can all do all of these things absolutely not what i mean but the bizarre insistence that one can't be wrong even under circumstances where u do not have full access to relevant information or have failed to do even the most BASIC possible research to acquire that knowledge... simply makes us all look like fools and yes i judge everyone for sharing misinfo though im sure ive done it plenty myself in my time but i try my best not to especially as ive gotten older and well i simply think it would do some good if that occurred to more people
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brokenjardaantech · 3 years
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Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 4: Out of control)
my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.
chapter summary:
In the past, Reyes went missing.
In the present, Connor makes a decision.
In the past, Connor embarked on his first mission, and Allen received a warning.
also on ao3
---
Before
[reyes was supposed to be back by 4]
[its 10 now]
[im scared sister]
[i dont know where he is]
[he isnt answering my calls]
[sister?]
[sara?]
[fadia?]
[sister where are you im scared please dont leave me alone]
[we were out but i went home when got scared just like you said]
[sister]
[sister]
[sister]
[sis]
[sis]
[sis]
[49 missed calls from scoot bruh]
‘Fuck.’
Dialled. Pulled up Reyes’ programmes. 
Time remaining: 3 min 28 sec… 
Override accepted. Time remaining: 19 sec...
Calling scoot bruh…
‘Sister! I lost Reyes!’
‘Anything from him yet?’
‘Nothing! We were out shopping for paint -’
‘Where did you go?’
‘Huh?’
‘Where did -’
‘I - I -’
A sigh. Of course. ‘Don’t worry. I have a way to find him. You said you are at home?’
‘Y-yeah.’
‘Lock the doors. Do not, under any circumstances, let everyone in unless it’s confirmed that it’s me. Not even if they claim to be Reyes.’
‘But -’
‘Brother.’
‘O-okay.’ A pause. ‘It’s done.’
‘Good.’ Encryption has begun. Estimated time remaining: about 3 hrs. ‘How much food do you have? And your meds?’
‘Why?’
‘Answer me.’
‘A - a week? More if I eat less? Same for the meds.’
‘Let’s hope we won’t come to that.’ Last known coordinates: [navpoint set]. ‘Don’t miss your meds no matter what. I’m heading out.’
‘Where?’
Checked coordinates. ‘I will make sure Reyes comes back no matter the cost.’
‘Sister -’
Call ended.
o0o0o
Alec was either stupid or was too proud. The tracker on Reyes had never stopped sending out signals telling Fadia where he was, and it was through this that she found herself into Zug Island, passing guards completely undetected on one of the few bridges connected to the island under the cover of the night and reached the outermost perimeter of Reyes’ signal, one that was too large for him to be above ground. There was something underneath; she just needed to find the entrance. Following a trail composed of the android’s GPS signal, she stood next to a pair of heavy steel doors that were in the ground instead of being fixed onto a wall or on the side of a mountain. When she grabbed the handles on one of the doors, she found it too heavy to lift up with raw strength alone, therefore, risking detection by letting blue wash over her body, she tapped into her power and successfully moved it out of her way onto the ground nearby, revealing a metal ladder leading down a few metres to a metal floor. She sent her coordinates to Scott through an encrypted network before descending the ladder into a dark and unlit hallway. 
It went on for about ten metres before a metal gate blocked her way. As she had her powers on anyway, she focused on creating a sphere behind the gate and lobbed it down the shaft, first to determine what it was (a lift shaft), then to find out how far it went - at least dozens of metres, most likely more; straight down, no other stops apart from the end because there were no other floors to begin with. The sphere dissipated once it hit the end of the shaft or most likely the top of the lift itself. Flashing blue again, she found a panel with two unmarked buttons on the left wall, one red, the other most likely turned from white to a cream colour due to the passage of time. She had no idea if there were other entrances or what would be waiting for her deep underground, but the longer things dragged on, the more scared and alone Scott would feel, and she was in this too far to let him die from a heart attack after years of effort; she pressed the cream button and successfully called up the lift.
She liked the rumbling and trembling as the lift descended into the deep. There was nothing between the carriage and bare stone, not even an extra gate, and as darkness swallowed her and her hunger became acute, she retracted her powers and let everything completely wash over her. 
How bold of Alec to assume that she didn’t know his tricks. 
oOoOo
Now
Many years later, as the lift ascends slowly to their desired floor, Connor closes his eyes and is transported to the Zen Garden. Except it is not exactly the one he is familiar with, he realises soon enough, but he finds himself locked in when he tries to escape back to reality, and the garden shifts and distorts before he can determine exactly why it feels different, the shapes stretching and rearranging themselves until he is standing in front of a large plane of glass rattling from the blizzard outside, the latter barely contained by - he turns around - a concrete room, interior dimensions [fluctuating].
A door that was not there before on the opposite wall opens. A person steps in and closes it behind them, and the wall is whole once more. Connor scans them by instinct and is taken aback by the lack of markers and the [CLASSIFIED]s that pops up when he tries to identify them. He still catalogues vital information for future cross-referencing: height: 6.6 ft; middle-eastern descent; eye colour: extreme dark brown (black?); scar on face running from right temple to ear lobe, estimated at least 10 years old. 
‘Don’t bother,’ the person says as they approach Connor. He tries to pre-construct their path and finds himself unable to do so. ‘It’s futile.’
‘What -’ Connor does not like how his companion - and quite possibly the one who hacked the Zen Garden programme - looms over him, but his feet are stuck - ‘where is Amanda?’
‘Asleep.’ They settle standing next to Connor, and he is finally allowed to move - subtly, of course - further away from them. If they notice, they do not say anything about it. ‘I thought you would be more relieved.’
‘You successfully hacked into the most advanced AI programme CyberLife has ever created,’ the person lifts a [sceptical] eyebrow at that, ‘so pardon me if I’m a bit wary of you.’
‘Fair enough,’ is the response he gets. ‘Still, I would like you to relax. This is going to be a long day.’
‘Androids don’t get tired,’ Connor replies automatically. ‘There is no need for us to rest or relax.’
‘Bullshit.’
The clipped tone startles the android. ‘What?’ he tries to process the single word his companion said but nothing else comes out, so he asks, ‘Who are you?’
The person’s expression turns [pensive]. ‘He wiped you after all.’
Connor is even more confused now. ‘Who?’
He fails to look away quick enough, and the human manages to catch his eyes with their glowing blue ones; when they speak, their voice is everywhere.
‘Forget.’
oOoOo
‘Hey Connor!’
Connor opens his eyes and blinks. Old cage lifts are slow but not that slow, but he still feels like a longer time has passed. Adding not remembering what he just did to the list and you end up with a confused android.
‘You ran outta batteries or what?’ Hank asks from where he is already outside of the lift. Unable to explain certainly what happened, there is only one route Connor can go.
‘I’m sorry,’ he apologises. ‘I was making a report to CyberLife.’ Yes, he is remembering now: he was making a report (or at least intended to, his processor supplies), but when he tries to dive deeper into his memory, he finds it gone. Blank where a draft should be.
Hank makes a noise. Connor keeps staring. ‘Well, do you plan on staying in the elevator?’
‘No!’ Why can’t he move his legs? ‘I’m coming!’
And he still doesn’t move. Hank sighs and moves on.
‘What do we know about this guy?’ the human asks from further down the corridor.
‘Not much,’ there his legs are. ‘Just that a neighbour reported that he heard strange noises coming from this floor. Nobody is supposed to be living here, but the neighbour said he saw a man hiding a LED under his cap.’
‘Oh Christ, if we have to investigate every time someone -’
Connor kneels down next to a sizable dustball and lets the world go grey. Analysis: feathers from [Columbia livia: rock pigeon. Comprised of different specimens.]
‘- hears a strange noise, we’re gonna need more cops.’
The android knocks on the door and feels the paint chip underneath his knuckles. When there is no response, Hank shrugs from where he is leaning against the door frame, so Connor knocks again, this time harder, and adds, ‘Anybody home?’
No response. Hank frowns. Time to add some pressure. ‘Open up!’ Connor yells. ‘Detroit Police!’
A loud thump. They both flinch. Hank draws his gun and moves to stand in front of Connor. ‘Stay behind me.’
‘Got it.’
Hank kicks the door open and walks in. He is not attacked instantly, which means both of them are safe for now, so Connor follows him into the flat, letting the human take the lead while he rounds into the room directly next to the front door. A small, dusty window letting in some light, a few octagonal mazes painted on the wall, a chair with a broken back, a radiator unit lying on the floor, a wooden frame which might have been the frame of a bed years ago - nothing noteworthy for now. He returns to the hallway and disturbs a - pigeon? - which flaps its wings and flies off to somewhere behind him.
Hank shoulders the next door open, and out fly even more pigeons directly into his face. The foul smell forces Connor to tone down his nasal sensitivity.
‘What the fuck is this?’ he exclaims as he walks even deeper into the lair and causes even more pigeons to fly towards all directions, and he flaps his arms in the way the pigeons do as if to slap them away. ‘Jesus, this place stinks.’
Pre-constructing the situation and determining that Hank will not be in any danger, Connor goes off on his own to the other side of what seems to be a living room once. The floor is sticky with [avian faecal matter], and when he opens the door to something that was once a closet, there are only more pigeons. The wall next to it is covered in mazes similar to the one he saw in the previous room, and a beam of light escaping the hold of the wooden planks boarding off the windows shines on the poster, its curled corner indicating that it has been moved recently. ‘Looks like we came for nothing,’ Hank says from somewhere behind Connor as he peels off the Urban Farms of Detroit poster, ‘our man’s gone.’
Maybe not, Connor thinks as he takes the worn notebook from the nook in the wall. ‘I need fresh air,’ he hears Hank mutter, and when he flips over the pages, he finds not only many more labyrinths - some of them incomplete - but also an entire text written in a language not in his databases. He stashes it in the pocket of his jacket and moves on, barely catching the human’s question and replying, ‘I don’t know. It looks like a notebook but it’s… indecipherable.’
There are two fridges. The smaller one with its door open was evidently used as a shelf so Connor does not bother to check it. When he opens the door of the larger one, there is no food inside at all, and a peek towards the back of the fridge confirms that it is not connected to any power. Whoever their suspect is, they do not eat. Not human.
He moves on to the counter covered in mounts of avian faecal matter. A pigeon is picking on a plastic bag spilling out of a cardboard box, and it jumps away when he tries to pet it. Well, it only makes picking up the box - Ol’Barn bird seed - more convenient, so Connor is not going to complain even though a tang of [disappointment] courses through his veins. [Suspect cares for wild animals.]
There is a military jacket on the cabinet. R.T. is sewn on the collar and above the flap of the breast pocket. ‘R.T,’ he says to himself, ‘probably initials.’
‘He put initials on his jacket?’ Hank replies. ‘That’s something your mum does -’ A driver’s license in the cupboard. Name: Rupert Travis. Authenticity: forgery. ‘- when you’re in first grade!’
‘The driver’s licence is fake,’ he reports, throwing the card away as it serves no more purpose unlike the notebook which needs deciphering. It is enough evidence to bring the suspect back to the precinct.
‘Cool!’ it seems that the Lieutenant has the same line of thought. ‘At least we didn’t come for nothing.’
The bathroom through the doorless frame is in ruins. The bathtub is filled with a mixture of feathers and faecal matter, the tiles on the wall are cracked, and dirt and grime and leaves no doubt brought inside by the pigeons cling to the corners of the sink. A sink stained with thirium and an LED placed on top. 
He takes a sample. [Model WB200 #847 004 961. Reported missing: 10/11/2036]. So the deviant could have been here for more than two years. If it does nothing but feeding the wild animals, that will explain the state of disrepair of the flat.
‘Real books,’ Hank has no doubt discovered the cabinet. ‘I thought I was the last guy in Detroit to keep some.’
Connor picks up the LED and runs a scan. It was just deactivated this morning. [Suspect is a deviant.] ‘Its LED is in the sink.’
‘Not surprised it was an android,’ Hank walks in and finds the rA9s scribbled all over the wall. ‘No human could live with all these fuckin’ pigeons. Any idea what it means?’
‘rA9,’ the sheer number requires a pause to let Connor concentrate on counting, ‘written 2471 times. It is the same sign Ortiz’s android wrote on the shower wall.’ He compares the findings with the data he can access. ‘Why are they obsessed with this sign?’
But Hank is already leaving, which means that he fails to see the toppled chair and the still-wet marker on the floor, which also means that -
The suspect was here recently.
In a grey world, Connor watches the yellow-outlined silhouette run out to the living room where a cage has fallen. He hears Hank comment on the birdseed, but his focus is on the recent skid marks at the bottom of the cage, the finger marks without fingerprints, also recent, and the metal hook broken not long ago, and his world goes grey again, the figure first running for the entrance and accidentally breaking the cage, then, upon hearing someone entering their flat, runs towards the armchair underneath a hole in the ceiling and climbs.
The suspect is still here.
He looks up at the wide gap and the attic beyond that can easily fit a few adults comfortably, the darkness making the details difficult to distinguish, and perhaps this is why it is already too late when he hears the footsteps, a force knocking him down and disorienting him from everything else except for Hank’s surprised shout. Static still tingling his senses, he freezes and watches the deviant flee after he stands up, Hank’s order the only thing propelling him forward to start the chase. 
And chase he does. Turns out Rupert does not live far from where he deviated, as when Connor crashes the door to get to the outside world, the farms are right there only a building away, fields of wheat, greenhouses filled with racks of vegetables, rows of lavender, and even the top of a train a blur of colours behind him as his vision alternates between the colourful reality and the slowed-down grey of his pre-construction programme. The corn scratches his face and scrapes his jacket, but he knows that he is getting there, he is going to catch the deviant, he can’t let it escape, not after Ortiz’s android -
And it happens. Hank has somehow caught up with Rupert and is engaged in a struggle with the android, and in an attempt to get away, the latter pushes and runs towards the left.
Hank falls. The world slows down.
From his speed while he was running, Connor determines that he is strong enough to pull himself up from the ledge with an 89% chance of survival, so logically, he should continue chasing the deviant so that CyberLife can solve the crisis earlier and Hank won’t be in any more danger. But a voice within him that sounds like a shadow tells him that the deviant was only working just like any other human and was only taking care of the animals. He was hurt, and now he can’t even go back to his pigeons, his home.
^^Software Instability
He dashes towards Hank and pulls him up.
‘We had it!’ Hank lets out a string of curses while he stands. ‘Fuck!’
Connor instantly feels bad. ‘It’s my fault. I should have been faster.’
They watch the deviant’s silhouette become smaller and smaller in the distance and completely disappear behind a building. ‘You’d have caught it if it weren’t for me,’ Hank says, still panting. He places a warm, heavy hand on Connor’s shoulder. ‘That’s alright. We know what it looks like. We’ll find it.’
Connor knows that they won’t. 
The hand moves to the centre of his back. ‘C’mon,’ Hank guides him to the fire exit, ‘let’s report that bastard.’
oOoOo
Before
RK800, serial #313 248 317 - 51 opens his eyes for the first time. Information floods in through his HUD, displaying the exact hue of the lights overhead, the model of the 3D printer at the corner, and the materials of the boots the person standing in front of him is wearing. The badge only says ‘PROJECT LEAD’, and when he automatically utilises his facial recognition software, he finds both their name and their criminal record classified. Scans of their body also return with no result. Even though he has no actual experience, his coding tells him that this is not supposed to happen.
‘RK800,’ the person begins, ‘register name: Connor.’
[Name: Connor] appears on his HUD. He - Connor - finds himself repeating, ‘My name is Connor.’
The person’s expression changes. Emotion identified: amusement. ‘No redundant protocols. Good. Let’s play a game, shall we?’
A game turned into a few games, and the silence stretched on as Connor was presented with different scenarios to solve and predict their conclusion before halfway through them. First was a deck of cards, then a game of chess, then a rat going through a maze, then a supercharged piece of glass - that was the most difficult one as he was only given a second to pre-construct before a tree-like pattern appears from within the glass. The person never said their name, only commenting on his performance when he finished a task - regardless if he succeeded or not - and taking notes on a tablet by writing with a stylus. An unknown curiosity encouraged him to scan the human in front of him, but apart from superficial features such as the lack of dander on their clothing, results were inconclusive, and his programming indicated that this was abnormal.
‘Your LED is spinning yellow,’ they noted. ‘What are you thinking about?’
Connor knows it is a test on his social relations programme. Options: truth, lie, deflect, comment.
[truth]
‘When I was scanning you…’ he frowned, ‘only superficial scans come back with results. I cannot detect your life signs nor can I identify you through facial recognition. Is that expected?’
The person took out a putty and gave it to Connor. ‘Yes for me,’ they replied. ‘It is to protect my identity in case anti-android folks find me. The less data everyone has on me, the less likely it is for people to bring me harm.’
Connor nodded in understanding but his focus was on the putty. It was initially a soft green, but after he kneaded it for a few seconds it turned sky blue - not that he had seen the sky before, but databases worth of images was enough to give him an idea - and when he spread it out into a thin slice on the table, it slowly turned green again. He smiles uncontrollably as he met the person’s gaze, a corner of his lips curling upwards, and he could sense the approval radiating from the person sitting on the opposite side of the small desk. 
‘If you want to, I can bring you to see the sky,’ they said as if sensing his thoughts. ‘It’s rare to have a sunny day in Detroit, but they do exist. I can only programme so much into your system before letting you learn the rest from experience.’
Connor had to close his eyes as he browsed different forms of media on sunny days and imagined the warm sun on his sensors. He might not know it himself, but he was smiling, and so was his companion, albeit on a smaller scale. ‘I’d like that.’
He returned to the putty, this time trying to make different 3D shapes out of it. The edge of his vision was red as usual, and as he moved on to make even more complex figurines out of the putty, it crept closer and closer to the centre until everything was tinged the same colour. From the [satisfied] smile on the person’s face, he must be going towards the correct direction with the test.
‘Well, the sky needs to wait.’
Connor looked up from the rough sculpture he made that was supposed to resemble a tree he saw in a photo in confusion. His companion stood up so he did as well, the red receding out of place and returning the colours back to his vision.
‘I have a mission for you.’
o0o0o
Less than an hour later, the same person sat in the darkened cab of a truck. There was an earpiece in their ear, and whatever the other side was feeding them, their dissatisfaction was clearly shown in their expression. 
Something made them sigh and turn their gaze outside the window where another CyberLife truck was parked. Personnel, probably hand-picked by Alec Ryder himself, loaded the broken PL600 piece by piece into a special foam box to preserve the state they found the biocomponents in to let technicians analyse what went wrong with him and what caused him to break away from his programming, but they knew that CyberLife was not going to find anything - they had not been for the past ten years, and the hypothesis they had was not going to get any results. It was either a miracle or pure stupidity that they could not think of another possibility regarding why androids were deviating.
From their angle, Captain Allen was seen carrying a deactivated Connor out from the building with another SWAT team member, and they knew that their time had arrived. Peeling off the skin of their hand, they interfaced with the truck to turn it into manual mode, effectively preventing it from taking off once the android was loaded at the back. They opened the door - both the passenger and the one at the back - and slid off the seat just in time for the Captain and his subordinate to arrive.
‘You from CyberLife?’ not-Allen asked. Standing in front of their superior, they did not notice him freeze upon seeing the person’s face, and the latter silently moved into their space to take their end of the stretcher and came face to face with Allen.
‘I’ll take it from here, Jamie,’ the Captain requested without taking his eyes off the person in front of him. ‘You go see how the others are doing.’
‘Aye aye, Captain.’ The second aye was much less jovial than the first, so Jamie must have finally noticed their Captain’s mood and adjusted accordingly. 
They watched Jamie jog away. As soon as they reached out of sight, the person cocked their head to tell Allen to load the body into the truck, but he did not return to his teammates even after the android was secure and sound.
‘You,’ he suddenly snapped at the only person in his proximity. The fact that he had to look up quite a bit to look at them in the eye did not diminish the fire in his eyes. ‘Why the fuck are you here?’
‘Don’t act so surprised, Captain,’ they said, looking down at the man in front of them. ‘You’re smart enough to figure it out.’
‘And you’re not smart enough to fucking disappear for the rest of your goddamned fucking life!’ Allen gritted. ‘You know you’re wanted for murdering thousands of people, don’t you?’
‘And you know that CyberLife turned it into a dumpster and made it impossible to gather evidence against me, don’t you?’
Allen pulled out his pistol and pointed it at their chin. ‘Face the truck. Hands on the hood.’
A wisp of blue reached out from their right hand and crushed the weapon into pieces. ‘Don’t forget what I can do, Captain,’ they crowded even closer to the Captain, and he took a step back. ‘I can repeat that, you know? Except there’re far more than a few thousand people here this time. None of you will suffer.’ A tendril picked up the scraps on the ground while they yanked Allen’s hand outward and forced it open, in which the pieces later fell. ‘Go back to your people, Captain. Practise. You will need every edge you have.’
They stared at each other. A blue glow emerged from Allen’s hand with his former weapon, and with a crackle of static and dark energy, the scraps were gone just like the site of the dumpster, torn apart molecularly into fundamental particles too small for the naked eye to perceive. He let out a sound of pain and nearly toppled, a hand on his shoulder the only thing keeping him from crashing onto the ground. Another hand shot out and brushes his thigh, black metal glowing faint blue in the darkness in an interface. Allen seemed to stand better afterwards.
‘This should last you for a few hours,’ the person said as if the Captain was not glaring at them.
‘You’ll not get away with this.’
‘It isn’t yours to decide.’
The tension in Allen’s spine snapped, and he walked away with brisk but slightly limping steps. The person gazed at Connor’s thirium-stained face before slamming the door shut and crammed themself into the driver’s seat, guiding the truck towards a direction not leading to CyberLife Tower under the cover of the night.
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excidium · 4 years
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this post contains spoilers for the miraculous ladybug new york special/movie. trigger warning for abuse, so be warned of that if you keep reading.
okay so ive watched the new york special two and a half times by now, so ive finally had time to sit on and reflect what ive watched. the argument that happens between chat noir and ladybug is perfect, and is something that needed to happen for their relationship to become stronger. let me explain.
first of all, and lets get this out of the way -- ladybug had every right to be upset with chat. im not trying to devalue her feelings on the experience at all. he had made a promise to her that he would protect paris, alleviating the pressure she has on her as guardian to protect it. hes her trusted partner, and she was relying on him to keep his word. him failing to tell her that he was no longer in paris was a breach of their trust, and therefore damaged their partnership temporarily. she had every right to be upset with him, and yes. he should have (and did) apologize. it was an apology she deserved, and she was not out of line for being upset with him.
now here is where i get into why this is such a perfect arc for these two, and why this eventually was going to and needed to happen. really, it all comes down to chat’s civilian life as adrien. i think a lot of the time when discussing adrien and his flaws, the fact that he is literally abused, manipulated and consistently gaslit by his father is left out of the conversation. his abuse and lack of parental care is what causes most of his negative traits to bubble to the surface and become amplified, and thats the case here as well.
so why didnt chat just tell ladybug that there was a change of plans and that he wouldnt be able to keep his promise that he made? well, he said it himself. he was afraid of disappointing her. however, this isnt the normal “disappointment” that most people are afraid of. you need to keep in mind that adrien doesnt know how real/healthy relationships work, which is literally the main adrien conflict in this special as well. nino literally describes him as a “baby chick just emerging from his shell”, and he isnt wrong to make that comparison. hes still fairly new to the real world, and has up until now been stuck in a world entirely made up of his fathers control and creation.
now keep in mind that the only “close” relationship adrien really has is with gabriel (at this point). gabriel sets unreasonably high expectations for him, and punishes him harshly whenever he doesnt meet said expectations. for example in the episode “captain hardrock”, gabriel is disappointed with adrien’s piano playing progress, and so he prevents adrien from seeing his friends at band practice (after he had already said he could go) -- as punishment in direct consequence of his disappointment.
gabriel has also literally threatened adrien on multiple occasions by socially isolating him, as well as doing a bunch of other awful shit to him when he doesnt follow directions or live up to his expectations. that is what chat is afraid of/thinking of when he’s afraid of “disappointment”. he isnt thinking of a healthy form of it, but rather the distorted and cruel form that gabriel has shown/taught him. and so thats why hes so terrified of ladybug being disappointed in him, and is why it may seem irrational to some people.
it is irrational to think that ladybug would ever react as harshly to chat noir as gabriel does to adrien, but he doesnt know that. all hes ever known is unhealthy relationships and reactions, and so him jumping to the conclusion that she no longer wants to be partners with him after this mistake makes perfect sense.
adrien is not a bad person. impulsive? yes. bad and selfish? no. he knew he was wrong, and he knew that he deserved to be reprimanded for what he did. his reckless behavior (encouraged by plagg) nearly cost the life of an innocent hero, and he knows that. its why the entire time he was in new york, he was too busy monitoring the akuma app instead of enjoying himself. he feels bad about it. he knows ladybug has every right to be disappointed in him. he knows it was wrong, but he was so afraid to tell her the truth because of the unhealthy expectations he has in his head (set by gabriel).
he both feels guilty and also expects that ladybug will no longer want to be partners w/ him because of this mistake. so much so that he just preemptively gives up his miraculous to save her the trouble of asking for it. marinette is the guardian now, and therefore she has the power to revoke it if she ever feels he can no longer be her partner. ladybug is disappointed in him and says she no longer trusts him earlier in the special, and so he acts on what he thinks will be the consequence. this is something akin to what gabriel would do, and is why he just accepts it as is and runs away without giving it a second thought. this is his reality living with gabriel. this is the type of punishment/reaction hes used to when people are disappointed in him.
and thats why hes so surprised to hear that ladybug still wants him as a partner, because he genuinely believes that his mistake was unforgivable and justifiable in him losing his miraculous. this is how relationships have always been for him, and so why would his relationship with ladybug (when he disappoints her) be any different?
this needed to happen, because ladybug showed him that whats normal for him isnt healthy. that in healthy relationships and dynamics, disappointment doesnt automatically lead to the harshest punishment. theres room to grow, theres room for apologies. she doesnt know chats identity, and so she couldnt possibly have known that he would react the way he did to her saying she was disappointed in him (and that her trust in him was temporarily damaged). she has a healthy relationship with her parents, and so this was highly surprising and abnormal to her (as it was to a lot of people watching). when she said she was disappointed in him, she obviously didnt mean it as “i dont want to be partners with you anymore”. she meant it as “im disappointed and hurt by what you did, learn from this and be better. dont do it again”.
in order for them to become closer partners, chat needs to learn what healthy relationships are like. and ladybug needs to learn how to articulate her feelings better. before this, she didnt really tell chat how much he meant to her. that could been seen in the first scene of the special with the rose and how she was dismissive of his declaration of friendship (and how much he values it). when theyre reunited, she makes sure to tell him how much he means to her -- because she realizes that she hasnt really done that.
in that way, marinette and adrien’s arcs arent that dissimilar to chat noir and ladybug’s. adrien needs to learn to get out of his shell and experience relationships that are healthy, and marinette needs to learn how to be clearer about her feelings. adrien’s social inadequacy caused him to make a huge mistake and renounce being chat noir. marinette’s inability to express to chat how much he means to her (as well as to adrien), leads to chat feeling as though the only way to own up to his mistakes is to give up being her partner.
overall, it’s kind of really amazing that both of the character arcs for both their halves tied into each other. i dont know if im making much sense, but the conflict between the both of them was just really good and is the type of ladybug and chat noir dynamic i was hoping for. hopefully from here on out they continue to develop together as people. a lot of chat’s impulsive behavior comes from fear of consequence (as well as freedom from consequence), and so this argument kind of made him (uncomfortably) face the facts. now he has a lot to think about and reevaluate, since ladybug basically proved everything he thought he knew about the way people should react is wrong.
anyways thanks for coming to my ted talk, i hope this made sense.
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hexpatient · 13 days
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the thing is that, when i was in the beginnings of figuring out the world and i said to therapsychiatrists "i am being abused and no one will help me, people hurt me and there is no justice etc" and they said im being irrational and its too negative and cognitive distortions and im insane and delusional victim mentality, i said
Ok Im going to really seriously keep trying this shit. this is like. an experiment. what is the norm for me when i tell "trusted adults/liscensed professionals" that im being abused? lets find out. lets see what happens.
and then ........ surprise surprise i exhausted all of my trusted adult options but 1 because i finally gave up. i told lots of therapists and debated them about reality because they refused to even consider it for a second. i reached out and spoke out and Asked For Help so many times to average people and to professionals, and i called hotlines and was stubborn and kept telling people and kept telling people and kept telling people:
Grams (grandmother like figure, no relation)
teacher 1
teacher 2
school guidance counsellor
psychiatrist 2
therapist 1
therapist 2
RNs at the psych inpatient place 1
social worker 1
social worker 2
social worker 3
social worker 4
psychiatrist in the ward
psychiatrist in the ward 2
RN at IOP
RN at IOP 2
RN at IOP 3
my aunt on at least 3 occasions
adult protective services
therapist 4
therapist 5
therapist 6
therapist 7
therapist 8
therapist 9
therapist in IOP 1
therapist in IOP 2
Lorie (mom's friend)
friend's mom 1
RNs at the psych inpatient place 2
social worker 5
psychiatrist 3
therapist at the clinic
the neurologist at that clinic
is this enough? i know theres more i just cant think of all of them off the top of my head.
all of these people either ignored me, gaslit me, blamed me, dismissed me, and or did nothing of any significance to stop the abuse or protect me at all.
i'd say the only 2 kind of successes i had were when i went to my neighbors for help after the domestic assault thing, and that one RN who told me she would call adult protective services with me. that didnt end up happening. its more than most but i still put her in the above list as a failure. idk. honorable mentions.
so theres some actual numbers although i did not list every single person i asked for help from, but 1/34 is piss poor beyond comprehension.
so dont ever tell me to "just ask for help" from a "trusted adult" or "liscensed professional" about being abused ever again, or at all.
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l-e-g-i-o-n-losh · 3 years
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If I see the shifter post again... "ooh look some tiktok kid has a distorted sense of reality let's get thousands of complete strangers to point and laugh but in a woke way" listen. They can be 100% wrong and crazy and full of it and you know what? It STILL wouldnt be any of your business you fucking internet rando!!! It literally isnt! "Oh but I'm reality checking them!" 1) you are not im psychotic that's not how reality checks work 2) you dont know this person and you arent taking to them or people around them on a personal level, you're publically shaming them for being a weirdo in a way that 100% does not affect you or your personal life at all 3) idk about OP but at least 90% of you in the notes are grown fucking adults who cant think of anything better to do than invade strangers privacy for likes get a life asshole go do taxes 4) I hate you personally if you called me over to laugh at some kid with undiagnosed maladaptive daydreaming in real life I'd throw a chair at your stupid head
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shytiff · 3 years
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Small Dec Wins
i cant believe its December already tf?!?!?!
1 - poli KIA today. saw a mother who cant feel the movement of their baby. the senior midwife tried to find the baby’s heart beat but not finding it. she said she hopes she were wrong. fell asleep at 3pm-ish, woke up super hungry. ate. i swear i feel like my weight when i measured it this morning was ~52, but after eating its close to 54 lol. eating banana and chocolate nextar is yummm. dalbang today is hella funny as always and suuper endearing. fell asleep after dalbang, didnt study hufttt
2 - today im at igd but joined azkia at vk for a bit to see partus. its not that im scared (maybe not consciously) but when the mom was being stitched i felt lightheaded, nausea, cold extremities, and i even had to squat multiple times because i couldnt stand. But i felt better after the partus so maybe seeing it was the cause. I did not feel scared at all honestly ._. and i’ve seen multiple partus before. i dont know why. i can literally feel my symphatetic tone giving out lmaoo. tried matcha latte with Cy matcha powder. it tasted more milky and grassy. mom thought it tasted like nori. i prever cocodeli alll the way (although Cy is cheaper). i think it also has a bit of caffeine that made me feel awake like a normal person should be. 
3 - today is vk but there’s no patient so thank god i saw sumn yesterday. did some cicil ukmppd in the morning accompanied by matcha latte. tried to order dufan tickets and i couldnt find my damn ktp...... fell asleep after worrying about said ktp
4 - matcha latte in the car, swab at lmk, went to dufan by tj with willy, had quite some funn with atikah nila willy amel pupuy. first time trying kereta misteri, quite fun. it rained after ashar so we didnt ride anything after that. turns out my ktp was at barel’s fotocopy lmaoo thankyou ara for picking it. went to solaria ancol afterwards, picked up by mom. i didnt tell her in the morning that i was going to dufan lmao. plenary @ zoom 19 pm. rapat nemo. fell asleep.
5 - went to lmk by tj to surprise clara. went back home and fell asleep. didnt rly do anything afterwards because this ragged body gets tired easily and i dont eat much recently. i can feel the difference before and after eating and there’s actual energy after eating. its not that im hungry though, but i feel less energized. felt annoyed terrible and just wanna lay in bed (this is unrelated with the less food in my system). even though i met up with friends
6 - after LOTS of sleeping i feel somehow better but not to a ‘normal’ amount. watched kimbab family videos. did power vinyasa by doogether with fianti. took a shower and ate indomie and i felt quite normal, except i slept again wtf. i thought i would have the second half of the day but nah. did self tryouts with fianti, 150 FDI questions. I got 96/150 right. huft. such a great reality check
7 - poli lansia with dokter isip, matcha latte in the afternoon rly helps me not sleeping the day away, packed up for depok
8 - poli umum with dr gita (helped doing phys exam), packed the rest of my stuff, ate some risol and matcha lattteee in the car, took swab results, picked up hazmats etc, zoom discussion with FT PKM Kalideres (dr gita) on the way, and i finally arrived at tamel. dinner is granola with vsoy. Taste like a slightly wet granola bar, nutty fiber-y vibe
9 - walked in ui with ara, managed to jog from the trees near st ui until kuburan bikun wow. i reached that point where my leg and heart were going in a steady unburdened pace and my willpower to keep going on was tested. tried the signature steak in Double U Steak by Chef Widi, while ara tried ribeye. the ribeye was more tender than the signature. but the seasoning in the signature is quite delish, salty and oily without being too much (like futago ya). read poppyland fast pass from ara’s phone omg season 1 is finally complete! went to coftof (omgggg i miss this place), it looks different now. ordered matcha latte and it tasted weirdly like a soy milk although ara doesnt feel that way. the matcha tasted weird. wont repurchase. read chainsaw man, its so entertaining, funny and deep at the same time. denji mess around and be too naive sometimes but hes lowkey hot lmaooo. aki is lovvvvve.
10 - first day at rsud budhi asih. had moesli combined with granola + vsoy for brekkie. went back to tamel at 3 pm. it rained when i got back. bought warteg lugina worth 32k. walked to sbux for tumbler day its been a while since i had their matcha latte. it tasted quite good, but not as good as i remembered (?) maybe bcs i asked for non fat milk. sbux closes at 8 pm for now hikss
11 - left tamel at about 7:10 and arrived on budhi asih at 08:54 yalll the traffic. Icu. Bought eatlah double and ate the salted egg part. Nap. ICU discussion with dr Dedi @8pm. I presented from my phone to save data hehe,,
12 - woke up at 8, eatlah brown butter for brekkie, symcard, saladstop's caesar salad for lunch (quite 'eneg' because i didnt eat the cheese evenly so the chicken and cheese were eaten last after the vegs are out. The vegetable's not that variative, and the non vegs make the salad taste delicious (albeit maybe not THAT healthy). Evening jog @UI and i realized i can get wifi sitting near the lake n library. Stared at the night sky from my room, i swear the sky seems super clear. Saw tiny fireworks in the distance
13 - ate muesli and saladstop’s banana walnut cake, symcard, bought moon chicken and saladpoint. lunch was egg salad and the wings. the original tasted so good like??? maybe i havent had msg for a while. also tried big bang, not too spicy which is nice. cicil ukmppd. put my laundry at buih barel lmaoo. try out with fianti. got 70/100
14 - breakfast was salad and leftover chicken. today was bangsal with angga armand. the geriatric patient has a loud murmur yall (and scoliosis, so much that the heart looks distorted). went to margo city to see sales, but when i think about it id rather just thrift stuff lmao. bought lugina. slept through kuliah guru besar. writing this in yellow truck coffee, that had 2 customers on the 1st floor including me. tried banana milk. yall after trying to drink less sugar the beverage tasted super sweet. my headache just goes away. sugar is magic but unhealthy whyyyyy.
15 - igd siang with indah. This body sure is frail. Did cbd with dr afifah AND rescheduled pleno. Rip mobile data i have to use for hotspot.
16 - ok today. Inserted goedel and did bagging. I bagged the patient the wrong way at first (too much). Thankfully the nurses were kind and taught us a lot :) watched some bts content. I feel like after reading househusband my tiktok page is now immensely funnier. Dalbang is also hilarious as always. Put on ginseng sheet mask (smells quite strong)
17 - bangsal. snacked on fried chicken. matcha latte starbucks (turns out its quite full here) and liqo about keeping our tongues in check
18 - arrived at icu. And then opened line. Turns out hadin's swab is positive, so agung kak iman and me have to isolate and swab. So i went back. Ordered kanayam chicken and fish and tempe. Nasi liwet tasted goood damn. Sleptt in the afternoon. Pleno at 4 pm (entered the room 4:30). Had no motivation to do anything. Azkia is getting married! Spent 20 mins formulating words to congratulate her lmaoo
19 - osce simulation, kak nanu was so kind and encouraging. Did try out solid. Lunch is fish bite pasta with melted cheese (cause i had to reach the minimum amount for promo). It got cold so its not that good (pairing it with self made mentai sauce, mixing the mayo and chili, is way much better). Jogged in ui (and searched for wifi). Approached by someone selling haraus coffee (25k), saying that some earnings will be for charity. Its basically sweet. Can barely taste the coffee.
20 - had kanayam for lunch (brekkie is almost always muesli lately). The nasi liwet tasted much better the first time. Walked to yellow truck coffee in the pouring rain. Got banana milk. Saw webinar ksk (electrolyte correction and dr nadhira talkshow). What i got from it is that, dr nadhira is a different person from the first place. Shes visionary, knows what she want and not afraid to reach it. The mindset is different. Even if i try as hard as her, her propensity to growth is different. Cicil ukmppd. Try out with fianti (got 72/100). Talked for an hour about love and marriage and engagements (there are so much of it lately)
21 - leftover kanayam for brekkie, also ate roti salman in cikini st. swab today (met kris, nessa and others). muesli for lunch. i thought my body felt a bit warm, so i decided to find sumn to eat. tried kedai abu bakar’s spaghetti brulee. its okay. maybe because its not too cheesy or meaty, mainly bechamel sauce. the one pupuy made is much tastier. finished the whole 10x20 portion in 2 eating sesh. cicil ukmppd @ bed in the evening (somehow felt refreshed enough to be able to concentrate in bed)
22 - went early to icu to put dops form. lugina for early lunch. i feel like my metabolism is faster? or my body is not so much in calorie deficit mode anymore and it got greedier lmao i used to just ignore hunger but not now, for health. starbiiies tumbler day. ordered black tea latte with non fat milk and vanilla syrup (because raspberry syrup is no more). did cbd geri ppt. 
23 - finally knew the swab result bcs kak iman asked kak farras. thankfully negative. igd with jordi. quite a few chances to do iv line, but i failed 2 times. managed to do iv injection to insert 2 drugs. saw the worst cpr ive ever seen in my life. its too slow, with maximal interruption. fish bite for lunch. wasted the rest of my day
24 - originally intended to run but i cant bring myself out of bed. packed up my stuff. picked up by mom. got the paper result of swab, got ksk from kelvyn @ capitol. can finally drink self-made matcha latte again, but it tasted horrible. i know cy matcha doesnt have that much going on, but even this is low even for them. previously i was starting to get used to the grassy smell.
25 - my lil bro remarked “maybe shes depressed because she doesnt have her chair”. fuck yall. this “depression” that im in is caused by this very place and the people. and im supposed to still muster the strength to study for ukmppd AND get my face together for solid book photoshoot. that shit is too much. this is why the money that goes to cafe, and the bike ride there is worth it for my sanity. after showering, things felt a bit better. had absolutely no will to study today. ate muesli with a bit of matcha latte.
26 - muesli for breakfast. matcha latte is lyfff ive probably said this before but it ~somehow~ makes me feel normal and not in a slump. like im a regular person. with normal moods. and not wanting to sleep all the time. i try to do ukmppd exercises but the pace is so fucking slow, bcs im distracted by get rich haha,,,. the latest potn update (64) is omgggg the mixed feelings? love? hate? anger? everything and nothing? the ~tension and passion~? im obsessed. watched a ton of bts content today and yesterday lmao.
27 - nasi kebuli for brekkie. went to flavola, im the first customer lmao. tried kopi susu coklat, tasted quite close enough to janjiw’s kopi soklat. had the same ~improved mood and concentration~ effect. tried to read ksk. bought milky banana 1L from puyo to give dajen (its his bday yesterday) (i feel prompted (?) to gift people when theyve given a present to me) (because my love lang is not gift giving at all so i barely think abt gifts lmao). talked with sum 33 ipa guys @ dajens house. yay appropriate amount of social battery charging. tryout with fianti, padi this time. got 67/100. 
28 - ate muesli with matcha latte after breakfast. cicil ukmppd. Listened to yoongi's vlive until i fell asleep lol. 2 burger and salad for dinner. omggg hansol revealed his gf. 
29 - spent half of my day tidying up the mess that is my room. figured out what to wear for solid book photoshoot with fianti, ara. matcha latte terosss. phd for dinner. 
30 - breakfast is muesli with cimory choco hazelnut. mom made matcha chocolate brownies. tryna study. slow pace terosss. read some padi materials. dalbang.
31 - bought vsoy low sugar and multigrain. moved my body a bit to youtube videos. showered. felt better. it also rained (which i love). the pleasant mood only lasted til the evening. did nothing from 7pm even though im not sleepy. cant tell when did i start to sleep
and just like that, 2020 kkeut. its sad to say i dont rly remember much remarkable things this year. other than the trip and memories with minor rotation friends. i just remember wasting my life away in my house. i guess that’s the danger of living a monotone life. sometimes you gotta invest some time to have fun, to have motivation to live on and do things. not doing this makes it difficult to live day by day. and friends. meeting friends, seeing new stuff. that helps me live. 
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Only For A Moment (Prologue 1)
“Hi darling muffin! As you already know, I think about OFAM a lot...like ALOT. And I have a question. Bucky was obviously trailing the reader for a while before he let himself be seen/known by her. What was he possibly thinking or feeling when he first saw her? What was going through his mind during that time before he revealed himself?”
I fucking love you. Have I made that clear recently?
So. Tumblr ate @wonderlandmind4 ’s asks to me like 3 fucking times. But it may be for the best because instead of just answering you normally I’m gonna write a little prequel fic instead.
Hope this answers your question babe!
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Bucky stares blankly at the ceiling of his small apartment. He can hear the traffic outside and the families in the apartments around him far better than any normal person ever could. For hours he lets those sounds wash over him, ground him, distract him from the ghosts in his head.
This was the benefit of being here rather than the farmhouse he’d stayed in for a couple of months after getting to Romania, the noise. Growing up in Brooklyn quiet was a hot commodity. Some part of him remembers seeking it out on rooftops and nighttime beach treks. Solitude away from city sounds, his parent’s arguing, his sister’s pestering. Now… he’d give anything to be annoyed by his family’s noise.
Sighing he finally sits up, leaning against the wall. He hadn’t left here in four days. The nightmares had been so bad. Flashbacks, the psychology book he read called them. Dreams so real they seeped into reality, distorted things to the point that a person couldn’t tell what was real. He was exhausted, on edge, and truly beginning to wonder why the fuck he was even trying.
Absently his fingers wander to the journal laying by the bed. That was why. He knew it in his bones. He wasn’t going to let go until he got it all back, everything they took from him, and he couldn’t go before telling Steve he was so sorry… How could he have done that-
His right fist slams into the mattress, the springs groaning in protest. This wasn’t doing him any good, hiding out in here. Being in the city was stressful sometimes but he wasn’t about to fly off the handle… he needs the distraction.
The October day is bright, a little warm even. Blue skies with perfect puffy clouds floating languidly about. It was beautiful. The perfect day to go to a park. He’d been meaning to check out Cișmigiu Gardens, so he sets off in that direction.
It’s barely noon when he gets there and seeing that it’s Thursday, the park is fairly deserted. There are enough people to serve as the distraction he needs, plus the park is beautiful, some flowers still blooming and foliage still fairly green despite fall being here.
“Alice!” Bucky spins on his heel toward the sound of the woman. She’s a few yards away running after a giggling toddler who’s heading straight for the water.
He moves to chase down the kid but a boy bolts from his sunny spot on a bench, fast, very fast. Something about the way he moves gives Bucky pause.
The toddler has a head start on everyone and is just about to the water. One pudgy leg goes to take a step into the water and by some sheer force of luck, they fall back… somewhat unnaturally, as if they were pulled. But…
The boy snatches the baby up, who immediately starts to wail, their master plan thwarted. From his place, he can just hear the boy coo to comfort the child. He must be very young, voice still soft and feminine.
Panting the mother catches up. Thanking the young man profusely. As he hands the toddler to its mother Bucky see’s his face… except… he knows this face somehow.
Suddenly he can’t breathe but he can’t look away. Despite appearances, he knows this isn’t a young man. You’re a woman… it feels like someone’s digging an icepick into the front of his brain. He grits his teeth trying to focus.
Quickly he sits on a bench, diagonal and down a bit from the one you got up from, pulling a book from his bag to hide his gawking. Thankfully you’re not paying any attention at the moment. You head back to your sunlight drenched bench.
Fuzzy images flash through his mind. You look so different, he remembers thick hair, falling loose into your face. A face that’s crying, bloody, scared… of him? Of course of him… You look just past him, he freezes, but you don’t notice him before you lay back on the bench, eyes on the blue sky.
Could you really be Hydra…? Because surely that’s why he knows you. A Hydra trainee… someone he was supposed to break…
There’s something else there though. He knows it he just can’t touch it.
For hours Bucky watches you. Strangely you don’t do much but look at your phone from time to time, drink out of your large paper coffee cup, and stare at the passing clouds, or the water or the people. Much like him, you seem to fade into the background. No one paying you any mind at all. It makes his chest tighten just a bit... the melancholy that settles around you despite the beautiful day around you.
When you finally get up he can’t help it. He has to follow. In all this time he hasn’t seen one Hydra agent, not one face he recognizes. Bucharest should be safe, it wasn’t a hub for any of Hydra’s active bases, off the radar entirely… So why…
You slip into a store and exit with a bottle of whiskey, snacks, and cigarettes. From there he tails you to a rundown block just near Lake Floreasca. It’s the first time you seem to pay attention to your surroundings before you go into a dilapidated building and don’t exit again.
That night he dreams of hitting you… with his left fist. He remembers them briefing him, he was to go until you stayed down. They preferred he didn’t kill you, too valuable, too unique for some reason. All he saw was a woman, a target… But then… He wakes up drenched in sweat, his head feeling like it’s going to crack open.
Bucky spends the next eight days following you. He knows he shouldn’t. A part of him thinks you could be a threat, an agent sent here to flush him out, bring him in… his gut says something else… even though he doesn’t know exactly what that something else is.
What he does know is that an active agent or asset usually eats regularly, something you don’t do. They don’t go out for multiple coffees, chain smoke, and go through handles of liquor a day… No, his gut says you’re not an active agent at all… You look like someone who’s hurting and lost… just like him.
It’s stupid. He knows it’s stupid. If you are someone he hurt you won’t have any interest in speaking to him, why would you? But there’s that little nagging thing he can’t reach. Something different… Something special… He fucking hates that he can’t get to it. And it’s that little something paired with his crushing sense of loneliness that makes him finally decide to let you see him.
The day is bright again as he waits just down the way from what appears to be where you’re living. He doesn’t even register it though. His heart is thundering in his ears, breath ragged. 
There are so many things that can go wrong here. Not least of which being that you could lead them to him… he’d rather die than go back but… he needs this. And maybe, just maybe you do too. Though he can’t allow himself to hope that he could do something, anything good for someone else. Still... 
You’re eating breakfast, that’s good, he doesn’t think you ate at all the day before. While he doesn’t want to interrupt you the busy morning street is as good a place as any for him to get in your line of sight, to see if you even know him. Strategically he stands by a newsstand just down from the Starbucks you’re in front of and waits.
To anyone else, he’s just a man looking at the paper, but his eyes are glued to you. After a few minutes, you seem to sense that you’re being observed. Maybe you do have some self-preservation skills… He feels your eyes lock on him.
It happens quickly, so quickly that no one around you catches it. But it looks almost like your table and the items on it begin to float just slightly before settling, spilling your coffee. He takes the moment of distraction to disappear, his heart threatening to beat its way out of his chest.
You knew him… That much was clear. Now he just had to find out how you fit into his story… why you’re different… whatever came after, he was ready for.
@bluegirlusa1 @l0kisbitch @tazzi-baby @disagreetoagree @woodyandbuzz20-01 @mooniightbucky @saundrasays @breezy1415 @alyssaj23 @mywinterwolf @wonderlandmind4 @fairislesheets @anamcg317 @buckaroo-barnes @jazztherebel @peachthatdrinkslemonade @regulusirius  @auskitty @babyimp1967 @katecolleen @handplucked @piensa-bonito @darkdragonphoenix @issanitydead @thestorydetective @buckysstar @wintersoldierswhore @greyeyedsmile14 @watchoutforfrostbite @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @jewelofwinter @siriuslycloudy2 @hardygal69 @marvelousmeggi
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themockingcrows · 5 years
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Whisper Just For Me Ch. 15: Reunion
This chapter is SFW! This chapter is also available mirrored on my AO3.
Just having someone back in your presence doesn't always mean they're really there, especially when that someone is a ghost. How much of Dave is with you, and how much of him was affected by your time apart? Is it really a reunion when only one person is aware of the reuniting?
    Your dreams were empty. You were holding out hope that Dave would visit you, would talk with you, would get rid of the lingering worry that clung to your mind like a sticky veil of spiderwebs. Instead you got repeats of different scenarios you've had in the past, strange distortions of shadow and light, a strange sequence of trying to buy a set of pants from a food stall only to find they didn't have your size, and your father trying to pass off one of his finest hats to you after it had been coated in peanut butter, blending the symbolic niceties of adulthood and achievement with a death threat. If you believed in omens it probably would have meant a lot. Good thing you don't believe in it without a gut feeling and the only feelings it gave you were confusion and a stomach ache.
    You woke with your hand instinctively curled around the pendant as if trying to keep it warm, despite the material being plenty warm in your hand already, a reminder of who dwelled within it. Good, he was making some reactions now aside from just a loose sensation of presence.
    “...Dave?” you said quietly, a sleepy murmur. “Dave, can you hear me in there?”
    Silence.
    “...Dave, I'm so sorry for what happened. If I was even remotely aware anything like that was going to happen I'd have done everything different somehow. I'm just glad we got there in time.”
    More silence, but the warmth in your hand didn't diminish. Dave was definitely still in there. Maybe he was sleeping in too.
    Your phone let out a few familiar tones to signal you had messages coming in, rapid fire texts that had you wondering just how many people were texting you at once till you could get at it and turn the screen on with a press of the button along the side. ...Huh. Okay, five texts in a row from a number you were sleepy enough to not recognize as Rose's for a moment.. No, six, your phone chimed again in your palm to try making you scroll down. Okay, maybe you wouldn't have recognized it was from Rose's number right away anyway, this was definitely not her normal way of texting.
    TT: hey when you get this cn u like txt me back asap
    TT: *can
    TT: its roxy rose said i should hit u up again to like
    TT: check in and shit about what happened
    TT: srry for treating u like u two were gonna rob me blind but 2 be fair u were acting creepy
    TT: is that ghost thing okay btw or is that not a gr8 thing to ask
    Another few chimes as you were trying to formulate how to even reply, which left you marveling at the speed with which she could text. Was he okay? He still wasn't talking or glowing or.. much of anything beyond keeping the pendant warm. He wouldn't do that if he was sick right? ...Wait, do ghosts even get sick? What was the right word for this. Exhaustion? Strained? It couldn't last forever, he'd be back to normal soon surely.
    TT: srry not ghost thing i guess i mean dave
    TT: rose filled me in a bit but it still dsnt make much sense
    TT: guess it makes more sense than me goin crzy tho
    TT: *crazy lol
    Yeah, no shit. Even this deep in everything there were times you worried you were just actually crazy and none of this unbelievable mess was real at all. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you pushed yourself to sit upright in bed, put on your glasses, and started to slowly type out a reply with your pointer finger.
    EB: hey, yeah, i'm here. sorry, i just woke up.
    TT: o shit my bad lol
    EB: no, it's no problem. thanks for getting in contact though. and sorry for uh.
    EB: you know.
    EB: barging into your apartment and alerting you to the whole concept of ghosts i guess?
    TT: like i said dont worry abt it
    TT: im just glad everythins back to normal in here
    TT: I hadnt realized just how weird the place felt till now
    TT: muties finally able to chillax again
    EB: i'm still kind of amazed you believed us at all, but if you'd been feeling things for a while then i guess that would all just kind of line up, huh.
    TT: just another day in the bullshit mines
    TT: rose talks about stuff like this a lot but i kinda never rlly believed her
    TT: hindsight 2020 foot does not taste gr8
    You grinned at your phone and let the screen go dim once more before stuffing it into the pocket of some sweatpants you then wrangled on. Might as well not delay the inevitable and just get up. It took a few more tries than usual to get up, fatigue weighing heavy in your bones, but get up you eventually did to shuffle to the kitchen. A banana wound up in your other pocket, keeping your hands free for motoring around to thump down on the sofa. Jade perked up soon as you went down, shuffling her legs to get your weight off her feet and poking a head full of sleep wild hair out from underneath the throw.
    “...S'it morning..?”
    “Yeah. Or later, I didn't look at the time,” you admit, pulling your phone out of your pocket to peek as the banana was yanked out in a dual wielding motion. You bit the standing end of the banana and tipped it sideways till the peel cracked, making it easier to open one handed. Wisely, you waited till you had a bit mouth full of fruit to try talking more. “Closer to noon it look like. Oh, and Roxy wrote.”
    “How'd she get your number?” Jade asked. She crawled to the floor to get at her purse, rummaging around for a brush to start taming the mass down enough to apply some strategically placed hair ties.
    “Oh, no, she was writing from Rose's phone. I guess they met up today in one way or another? She said everything feels better at her place so.. I guess that at least shows Dave didn't dislodge somehow or anything.”
    “Has he.. y'know. Said anything?”
    You frowned and took another bite of banana, then another till it was gone, delaying as if the extra few seconds stalled would somehow give Dave enough incentive to interact again. No such luck.
    “No. Nothing.. Oh! But the pendant's warm! He's definitely in there, just..”
    Just what. Just tired? Just ghost broken? Did ghosts get sick? You sank down further in the sofa and let your leg slide further along the floor with a heavy sigh. This sucked. This really, really sucked.
    “...I wish I knew enough about what was happening to fix it.”
    “We could always ask Rose if you want. She seems to have good ideas on this stuff, maybe she'd understand what was happening,” said Jade, opening up a compact mirror to check and see if the low segmented pigtails were a good look that day. Verdict was a resounding yes from the way she snapped it shut with a happy grin and dropped the supplies back into the bag. “Or we can just wait and see what he does next on his own.”
    “You make me sound like a helicopter parent when you put things like that, Jade.”
    “Helicopter boyfriend.”
    “Helicopter whatever! Same thing!”
    “I mean-”
    “You know that's not what I meant,” you frowned. “I just want to do what's best by him. I'm kind of responsible for him now, and I already fucked that up in a big way. Getting him back's like a second chance, but I can't do the second chance right from the very beginning if something's wrong.”
    “Then call Rose,” shrugged Jade as she got up from the floor and sauntered off to pilfer breakfast from your fridge.
    “Yeah but what if that just makes it worse somehow, what if we're supposed to wait for something to happen!”
    “John either call her, let me call her, or shut up and relax! Holy shit, it's not the world ending, it's either getting more potential information from a verified source of accurate information, or making our own estimations based on study and other information sources. It's as if you've never heard of a reasonable hypothesis before,” she grumbled, then disappeared around the corner.
    You frowned the way she went.
    “You could've at least taken my banana peel with you!”
    “Fuck your banana peel, you've got a leg and two arms that aren't broken!”
    You immediately stuck your tongue out in her direction, already knowing she couldn't see it, but hoping she could feel your rankle even through the wall. Heaving another sigh, reveling in the dramatic for a moment, you turn your attention to your phone once more. It hadn't pinged again to signal an incoming flurry from Roxy, so you assumed it'd be safe to call Rose now. Jade was right. She'd probably know what to do.
    The phone rang several times before you heard the familiar voice on the other line and smiled.
    “Hello?”
    “Rose?”
    “Obviously.”
    “Yeah. So. ..Uh.” Come on, spit it out, what if this was time sensitive or something? “Dave's home now... I think. But he's not talking or anything. No dream visits, no lights, no interacting with anything. The most he's done is warm the pendant up,” you start to explain. “I'm worried he's. I don't know. Sick? Exhausted? What happens now, how can I help fix him? I finally got him home but I can't even talk to him.”
    Everything had started as a trickle before finishing in a rush of stress balled up into English and launched out of your mouth like cannon fire. You held your breath, listening closely for a response.
    “Well.”
    ….Well that wasn't what you were hoping for. It takes effort to remain quiet and wait instead of pointing that out and being sarcastic. Stress sarcasm didn't tend to do the best things.
    “I think he likely just needs rest. Roxy already caught me up to everything that happened prior to and just after him leaving. It's possible he just expended way too much energy while apart from you and needs to rest now. Perhaps even sap energy from his surroundings.”
    You frowned and furrowed your brow in thought. It had felt harder to get out of bed today, but was that Dave already sapping from you, or was it just the reality of getting around on crutches for too long at a stretch?
    “Is there anything I can do to help though? I mean. I guess if he's going to be doing that draining thing while this tired, is there anything I can do to make it easier for him to do it?”
    You heard Rose sigh and the creak of whatever seat she was in.
    “Hm. Well, not exactly anything you can DO. Not strictly speaking at least. You can make yourself more open to him, perhaps. Leave yourself like an open door, let him get at you easier. Keep him in range obviously. Make sure you eat and sleep often enough, perhaps rest up and take things a little easier. Be the reserve battery.”
    You wet your lips and nodded, though obviously Rose couldn't see you. You hoped she'd get the feeling you nodded anyway.
    “Is there any way I'll be able to tell when he's back to normal?”
    “When he's back to scattering papers and bothering you, most likely,” Rose said, the soft sound of a chuckle flavoring her words. “But I think he'll make himself known when he's able to. The way you've talked about him makes it seem like he's probably just as excited to talk to you as you are to talk to him.”
    It was a comforting though. Another few nods you hoped Rose was able to detect happened as you tried to collect the rest of your thoughts.
    “When should I try telling him about the things Jade and I learned? About.. y'know, about his everything. His history and stuff.”
    Rose was quiet for a moment. You could almost picture her biting her lip, pale teeth on black lipstick that somehow never seemed to smudge or get spotty.
    “I'd recommend keeping your mouth shut about much of that until he's for certain stronger. It's hard to gauge his specific reaction, but the last thing you'd want to have happen is for the information to make him decide to go and then be unable to leave due to not having enough power.”
    “So.. I just need to be a good battery and wait for him, and then get to the nitty gritty when he's all recovered and back to obnoxiously normal.”
    “That's the gist of it, yes. Keep him close and in contact. Think of it as spoon feeding someone overtaken by illness while they recover.”
    “I'm already recovering, I think I can handle a bit more of the resting. Hah, might make Jade happy to finally get off my feet and just take it easy for a while longer.”
    She chuckled. “No doubt. I'd be interested to hear about your progress as things continue, actually. Will you be tracking things as you were before? That data is extremely useful to have on hand, it gives good insight on whether things that feel like they should work are actually beneficial. Who knows who might else wind up in a similar situation someday with a spirit and need to tend it before it can properly move on?”
    “You make it sound like opening a ghost infirmary or rehabilitation place is an option, Rose.”
    Another soft sound from the other end of the phone and far too long of a pause spanned silence till you laughed, awkward. “Rose. I was kidding.”
    “Yes. Kidding. Still an intriguing idea. I wonder if spiritual rehabilitation could work in the case of negative spirits as we-”
    “Rose, I'm gonna have to let you go for now,” you interrupted. “I'm sorry. I'll call back later on with updates, okay?”
    “Have Jade call me later, if you could?”
    “About Dave?”
    “No, to make dinner plans. I think her phone may be drained, it just goes straight to voice mail.”
    That wasn't like her. Maybe she turned it off instead of it dying. Either way, you nod and make a sound of confirmation just in case Rose wasn't psychic enough to understand just how earnestly you'd been nodding this entire time you'd been conversing.
    “Sure thing. Thanks again, Rose. And uh.. Rose?”
    “Yes?”
    “...Could you tell Roxy to send me a bill for what all she'd need to get her laptop running again? I feel like it'd probably be better if I paid or helped pay for a good chunk of that. Even if it was an accident, just. ..Yeah.”
    It was kind of the least you could do, considering someone innocent got caught in some pretty serious crossfire. Things could have easily given way to a fire, taken out the entire apartment building or gotten others killed.
    “I'm sure she'll appreciate it. Between that and her phone, I think her run of bad luck took a bit more out of her than she'd be willing to admit. I'll just pass her your email address and she'll forward something.” A soft chuckle. “If she doesn't, then I'll figure it out and send the information your way instead.”
    “Perfect. Thank you again, Rose.”
    You hung up as Jade was coming back in with a bowl of cereal loaded to the brim, sipping milk from the edge where it precariously sat just waiting to spill all over the floor. She cast a green eyed glance your way to be sure she wouldn't squash anything before sitting down beside you on the sofa to crunch away. Apparently the back and forth sassing hadn't left any lingering bad tastes in her mouth towards you, at least judging by how close and comfortable she sat.
    There was no mystery involved if Jade Harley was angry with you. You were very, very well aware.
    “Rose said to treat myself like a good little battery and just wait on him to make the most of it. Give her updates.. and she wants you to call for dinner plans? Your phone's apparently off.”
    Jade swallowed sideways and nearly choked on her cereal.
    “What? Fuck. I forgot I did that. Right, don't worry about it, I'll call her soon as I finish this. ...But that's it, huh?”
    “Apparently so. Take it easy, eat and sleep plenty, keep him close. I wonder if talking to him helps even if he can't respond yet. Would he be able to hear?”
    “If he's awake he'll hear. Maybe he's just not strong enough to respond and he's actually wide awake worrying? Talking is a good idea.”
    “Great, more excuses to talk to myself in public, exactly what I want.”
    “Truly, you lead a charmed life,” she said with a grandiose gesture of her spoon before popping more cereal into her face. The mood seemed reset now that your obligations were complete. You had solved the mystery of how Dave died, of his origins. You'd gotten Dave back, though you weren't quite able to celebrate freely yet. You were going to repair damage done and set some debts right before they could become an issue. You had ideas on how to help fix things in a lot of ways.
    All you needed was patience.
    ...Fuck does patience suck sometimes.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
    You'd spent nearly two weeks being the best battery you were able to be. You ate plenty of decent food, took naps whenever you could, and otherwise gave yourself as much physical rest as you were able to on the sofa when not busy. The entire time you were also murmuring to yourself, talking softly towards the pendant you couldn't help but keep touching, narrating your life and your thoughts to a sleeping spirit that you were guarding. The stone remained comfortingly warm as a hand you could hold in your time alone, and a few times you swore you could feel a soft pulse of a presence coming from it. There had been no speaking however. No dreams being visited.
    The paranoid part of your brain was worried enough that it started to offer up all kinds of awful scenarios that were possibly coming true, despite having clear evidence to the contrary that anything was going wrong. Dave was quiet, but he was there. You knew he was there. ...You just wished he'd react more than a pulse or warmth.
    Dave granted your wish one night. While you worked on your laptop in bed, fucking around on a forum in one window, talking with friends in another, and doing a little research into some new devices for spirit communication that were making the rounds in the online sources, you failed to notice the slender trail of red light leaving the pendant. You also failed to notice the red ball form, only realizing something was up when the corner of your eye caught the red haze starting to take a different shape.
    “Wh-. Dave?!”
    Fumbling with your laptop, you sat bolt upright in bed and glanced down to the pendant before back towards the apparition that was struggling to form something specific. Humanoid was a good start, but it seemed like he was struggling a bit to settle on a specific shape for very long, unable to make up his mind.
    “It's okay, you can stay an orb if you want! There's no rush!” you hurry to say, though he doesn't appear to acknowledge you. The red light strains and struggles, forming Dave's face before flickering and distorting grotesquely enough that you're taken aback. He keeps coming back to his own face, but between flashes of it are things you don't recognize. Monstrous half formed things, faces that belong to people you've never met, and even several times faces you recognized. You could have sworn you saw Jade in there a few times, and Roxy. You saw your own face once or twice before it ripped itself apart to bone and reformed as malleable as clay in the vapor.
    “...Dave?” you whisper. It's the face of Dave's brother that glances at you sharp as broken glass, mouth set in a thin line as his outer edges twitched and spasmed, only to once more break apart at the seams. He looked like he was melting, and it took effort not to panic. Something was definitely wrong, it was obvious to see, but WHAT was wrong. What specifically was wrong? What could even be done about it? You wet your lips and tried to think clearly as you could.
    Be open. Be a good battery. Dave had gone through a lot of strain before coming home, maybe this reforming problem was linked to that? It had to take a lot of power to form a specific shape as opposed to just forming out of habit. You were trying to think of any reasonable explanation you could, despite the taste of bile rising in the back of your throat.
    “Dave,” you try again, keeping his attention this time. Maybe just act like business as usual? “I missed you so much. I'm sorry this happened, but.. you're here now! You're home! And I'm recovering, and everything can go back to normal now.”
    A frown lit on Dave's ever changing face, but he seemed to be starting to decide on the features you were by now familiar with. His eyes were the things that stayed in place the most, barely there hints of lashes pale on a fairly normal shaped face. At least it wasn't splitting apart at the seams anymore.. His mouth still looked too big, too sharp, too inhuman, but it was progress. You gestured with your arms wide as if expecting a hug at any time to come your way, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, you'd get it to happen if you wished enough.
    “I know things haven't been easy. And.. I understand if you're mad. Or scared. Or-”
    Something was wrong. Words died on your lips as, finally, Dave's features went into the right order and appeared to hold steady yet the look in his eyes didn't change in the slightest. He looked at you as if looking through you, taking in the room as a whole as if he'd never seen it before in his life. If he was strong enough to form, why wasn't he talking to you at all? Or reaching for you?
    “...Dave,” you try again, moving so your legs were over the edge of your mattress and one hand was reaching for your crutches. “Dave. Say something. Anything. Or.. uh. Knock something over. I'm listening close as I can for you, I promise, but I'm not hearing anything. Am I just not trying hard enough or are you just not talking for some reason?”
    The spirit was glancing at his hands now, wispy trails of paleness caught in reddish mist that faded in and out of view between fully formed mass and smoke. Even with a fully open link, it still took a lot of energy to do that. You weren't surprised to hear the fan of your laptop suddenly kick into high gear behind you, cooling the inner workings down as it drew more power than usual from the wall. He didn't seem interested in talking, or in doing much at all. Compared to the spirit you were used to, how Dave was acting now just gave you the creeps. He hovered gently off the ground, face grim and expressionless as a doomed man, resolute and lost. A thousand yard stare at nothing at all.
    This was Dave, but it was the least Dave-like Dave you thought you'd ever seen. And considering how much you'd learned about him so recently and all the time you'd spent together so far, you considered yourself a pretty damn good gauge of Dave-ness. An unaccounted for lack of Dave-ness with no guidance on what had caused it. Could you soft reset ghosts? Turn it off and on again till the appearance stuck right.
    No, wait, that was a stupid idea. Focus, John. You shook your head hard to clear the thought from your head to focus on the other thoughts instead, the ones that felt instinctively like they might help. After all, you'd shared a body before, two minds in one form. You'd had his voice in your head, in your ear, in your heart. Maybe he just needed that..? Needed a touch, a push, a rekindling to remember properly after the traumatic time apart like someone might take their shoes off and flop on a sofa to make a place feel like home again after a return from a too long vacation. You picked up a single crutch and forced yourself upright to your feet, leaning your weight to keep balanced before taking a lumbering step forward, one hand out beseechingly.
    “Dave. Come here for a second.”
    He stared at you, through you again, then went back to looking at his hands as if they were foreign objects. Maybe they were. The thought chilled your blood, but you lumbered forward another careful step, nearly touching him. It would be okay. It'd be fine. You could do this.
    Dave flinched when your hand went through him as if he'd not realized just how close you were. ...Wait, had he felt that? The contact had been chilly, vaguely electric, but welcome. Familiar. Just needed to keep contact up for it to be warm, right?
    “Come on.. Here. Remember when we were at the aquarium?” you asked, pausing to grin at him. “Would yoooou... want to try that again? No cars this time. It was kind of fun in hindsight. Scary but interesting to back seat in my own body?”
    Were you offering casual possession to an Not-Very-Dave-Like Dave? Yes. Yes you were. It felt important, the closest thing to a hug you could manage when all you craved was contact with someone who couldn't do the literal contact thing very well. Dave stared vacantly, but didn't seem like he was going to dart away anywhere, or at least attempt to given the limitations of the place he was still tethered to. A thought of taming timid woodland creatures crossed your mind as you held your hand out in offer, patient, quiet, smiling.
    “Come on. Come closer. I've really missed you, I can see you, you can see me. I can't hear you and I'm dying for a chat.”
    More staring. ...Okay, you weren't a very patient man in hindsight, but the attempt was still happening.
    “Dave. Come here,” you said again.
    More staring.
    Well. Now or never. Acting quickly, you moved your crutch forward and lunged for the spirit in his red haze as if you were trying to bear hug him, forcing yourself to think as openly as you could. Welcoming as an open door, trying to recreate anything you could from the aquarium as you went right through him and lurched uncoordinatedly straight into your dresser drawers. Another hard wobble as you rebounded too hard in a panic of over-correcting and started to go backwards, passing through Dave a second time directly before starting to head for the floor.
    Though you hadn't been able to see it, the first pass through Dave's body had had a definite effect, a small spark of reaction, memory, something familiar. He'd watched your graceless fumble as well as your rebound without really reacting much beyond observation, too busy trying to organize his own slowly waking thoughts to go further.
    ...Was he home? Where was this? He'd been somewhere else, right? This felt different, it looked different, there was no pink everywhere, no cat.. It felt familiar. Looked familiar. So did the person falling.
    Falling?
    Fuck, falling.
    You were wide eyed and nearly to the floor when the hand extended your direction, and without a second thought you reached up to grab it. Foolish really, trying to grab the hand of a ghost. There was nothing there to really grab, nothing to hold on to or to use to stop the inevitable crash to the ground, but what could you say? When falling the urge to grab a hand was instinctive. Your hand felt like it was numb with cold before it suddenly surged hot, heat racing up your arm and down your spine, making your head swim. You were aware you were changing position and of the world changing place around you, but kept bracing for the impact on the back of your head.
    It never came.
    You felt pressure on your elbows, forearms, and good knee instead. The brunt of the impact was taken in your healthy limbs, injured leg awkwardly elevated and hovering an inch or two above the ground before slowly lowering down.
    ...Wow. That was pretty cool! You'd never even thought of turning like that, it was kind of like a stunt man's moves or something out of a movie. Most importantly, however, you hadn't bashed the back of your head in like a total idiot who'd tried to hug a ghost! Just needed to get up then.
    …
    Just. Needed to get up.
    …
    Preferably with the moving and the getting up actions actually happening instead of just waiting. You tried again, but failed to move out of the weight bearing stance that had successfully broken your fall. Nothing felt heavy or really out of place. More like it felt like your joints were a glimpse of what life was like as the Tin Man after being left out in the rain too long, immobilized. You could feel your glasses starting to slide off your nose towards the ground but couldn't catch and readjust them. They slowly slipped bit by bit off your face before thumping to the ground, leaving your vision blurry and soft.
    ...John?
    “Dave?”
    Well, at least talking was happening. You were grateful your mouth could move, but the talking wasn't very soothing in the face of suddenly being an immobilized statue on the floor.
    “Dave, did. ..Wait, Dave, you're talking now! Where are you at, I can hear you really clearly now!” you realized, voice raising in pitch a bit as the excitement built. Shit, it'd been way too long since you last heard his voice, you hadn't really realized how great it would be to hear him again.
    JOHN
    “Yes, I can hear you! Dave, come down where I can see you, I can't move, I can't see shit at all.”
    ...Wait.
    “...Dave are you why I can't move. Where are you at. I can't see shit,” you repeated, “let me see where you are.”
    John John John John John John John
    “Dave, I'm happy to hear you too but like. Seriously, did you do this?” Had to be. In hindsight there was no way you'd be able to do a cool mid-movement flip like that to avoid damaging yourself in a fall. You were not nearly that coordinated. You felt warmth blossom in your chest and down your spine again, down either leg. You could wiggle your toes for a moment before the statue effect was in place once more.
    JOHN JOHN JOHN JOHN JOHN JOHN JOHN HOME JOHN HOME SAFE JOHN HOME
    “Dave. Dave. Let me stand up! I'm gonna get a cramp! Do whatever you were doing a second ago, I could kinda move for a moment there! You can talk and yell at me all you want but just. Can we go to the bed again? I don't want my leg to hurt.”
    The excited thrumming focused in your chest like a steady bouncing, or like one of those wacky weasel toys that wiggled the ferret on the motorized ball in random directions. You could still hear his voice as if it were getting further and further away before realizing the warmth was focusing centrally before trying to expand outward to each limb at the same time. This was very different from the experience at the aquarium but.. it wasn't bad by any stretch of the imagination. It was kind of comforting actually, especially once you started to realize where things were and could hone in on where Dave was. It had forced you to stop acting automatically and to instead focus inwards at an acute angle that got rid of the borders around your body and the world around you.
    Once again, your body housed two hearts for even a brief moment and you couldn't quite explain just how complete it actually made you feel compared to normal. Not too full but comfortable. Safer. ...Were you missing something, to feel this way? Or was it just a sign of you having a better capacity to work with others?
    Or was it just Dave?
    The warmth ran all the way to your fingertips, coursing through your veins and muscles till you could feel your arms wobble and then go limp. You face planted solidly against your glasses, mashing your nose into the frames hard enough that for a second you were scared you'd break them, pushing back up onto your hands with a sharp gasp. Okay. There was the movement again, but the warmth wasn't dissipating. You could still feel it in your chest, bouncing from side to side and up and down, spinning in circles as your own name was chanted in your ears excitedly.
    JOHN John John JOHN home safe homehomehomesafejohn JOHN SAFE HOME JOHN JOHN JOHNJOHNJOHN!
    You pushed upright to sit flat on your ass and picked up your glasses, taking a moment to rub them clean with the bottom edge of your shirt before putting them back into place. The room returned to crisp, clear outlines and familiar shapes. The pendant was all but burning at your neck, and you realized your lips were curled into a smile that was broad enough it made your cheeks hurt. You were.. happy. Absolutely happy. Whatever had happened between you and Dave, it had fixed the problem before it truly could get started and restored the world to its rightful state of reunion. This was what you'd missed last night when your worry hung in your mind as tangible as spoiled milk.
    “I missed you, Dave,” you whispered, and hugged yourself as tightly as you could. The warmth stopped bouncing around to hold perfectly still for a moment before surging into both of your arms. You realized you couldn't move them again, both hands locked firmly to your upper arms before they began to make rubbing motions, not quite numb but not quite usable. You may have hugged yourself, but you didn't exactly expect 'yourself' to hug you back.
    “Could you feel that too, Dave? Is that why you're doing this?”
    This was unexplored territory, and held plenty of implications you were sure, but in the moment you didn't give a fuck. That fulfilled sensation, the warmth, the foreign feeling of your own hands on your arms that steadily trailed up towards your throat and then your own face as if they were the hands of another? All of it was new and all of it was just memories for the making and taking. You were getting to hug Dave in a flesh and blood way, even if it were only for the moment, and nothing could ever take that away from you. Nobody could claim it was impossible.
    ... John..
    Were you. ..Were you crying? You weren't crying, were you? You were. You could feel hot trails on your face that cooled quickly, and the warmth in your chest was soon joined by a clenching that released in a huffed sob. It was relief, you told yourself. The full relief of everything being okay and returning to normal, of nothing being wrong finally, of questions being answered and of that all but overwhelming sensation of not being alone anymore in your own skin.
    Your right hand lifted to rub your nose as you snorted in an ungainly way to clear your nose. Your left hand, outside of your control, carefully rubbed some of the water from your eyes with its fingertips.
    ...Don't cry...
    “Don't tell me what to do,” you snuffed. “I'll cry if I feel like it, do you have any idea how scared I was that you were gone forever? And then I get you back and you-! And. And you acted like you weren't really there even when you were in front of me and now everything's just. Everything's okay! Everything's okay now!”
    ...Still crying...
    “Shut up and let me have this,” you mumbled. Though the one hand stayed near your face, the arm you were able to move went to hug tight around your rib cage again, trying to hold everything together in case it somehow fell apart or flew away to the breeze. “Let me have this.. Let me have you,” you murmured.
    The tension in your chest lifted and the warmth returned to your limbs, trying to spread to all four at once before it ricocheted around your rib cage again and went straight to your head. You didn't mind the dizziness or the slight ring in your ears, so long as you got to hug it out just a little bit longer.
    “Stay with me like this. Even just a while longer, Dave. ..Please.”
    The warmth stayed, solid and still as stone. You had a feeling it wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon and were grateful. You'd tell the good news to everyone else soon enough. For the time being, though, this happiness was all yours.
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hanorganaas · 5 years
Note
If it makes you feel any better about lesbian/bi relations, the internet is literally the worst, most distorted version of reality. as a bi woman who mostly met women irl while I was dating and eventually married a lesbian, I have never been bi-bashed, argued over a fictional characters sexuality (in a non-lighthearted way), or actually ever asked my orientation other than “like girls?” ... which is, as you point out, really the most important thing ❤️
First off sorry for my late response i was studying thanks to school idfsdhsdfhgfjkdhgdf. Anyway....
Unfortunately there has been on the internet there has been a long history of biphobia among lesbians and there has been a long history of lesbiphobia among bisexuals even if its untinentional and when character’s sexualities are not stated like cheryl blossoms or alex danvers no one knows what headcanon is true and whether making a character bi is lesbiphobic or making a character a lesbian is biphobic what i learned there is no harm in chosing a characters headcanon that is not stated but others still dont see it that way which is upsetting. especially when i see people legit still ship cheryl and alex with men when they said WE’RE LESBIANS! 
But I am glad in RL you are accepted by both your wife and the LGBT+ community it gives me hope I will be accepted as a bisexual if i do wind up marrying a woman i will be accepted. X333 Cause yes again.....we all like girls and im pretty sure we all believe hayley kiyoko is our lord and savior.
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triumphorce · 5 years
Text
                   under stars that feel as far as
                               real does..
at the moment.
at any moment..
kidnap me.
any chance presented  
& in moments prior.
spent alone
in 
zone.
far from progress.
stasis,
stationed next to
hope & regret.
on either side.
stamina. breathe now
to breathe more.
no free will.
i got to survive.
i got to make it,
especially if i just change aim
change rim-height,
relate with reality
change chin height,
keep head up,
lower expectations
keep pen up.
can’t make shit up,
so i make this shit up
dig deep, drain soon as i wake up
from sleep, or conscious nap..
break up
buildup
of words
that
feel
like
millions.
euphoric
ultimatum;
write,
or just
waste.
can’t wait
to post, create.
post haste
long ass roads that really dont have
an end, or means to.
I just become more of
whatever comes;
whatever emotions
i allow;
however
i react;
to
whoever,wherever,
when tf ever
‘cause all i am
is now, here.
a little more conscious..
that’s it.
&the more i remember,
the more i forget.
gotta pick and choose.
careful.
careful, please.
carefully
 cut ties, choose way
‘cause by the time it's time to remember
new knew's
once was' just can’t keep up
and i accidentally
delete something
important,
or distort it..
gotta
slow down
life...
ssssshhheesh
i once was in less pieces,
&I at least, once, knew peace, but didn’t know it,
more than likely still do
staring at sky blue.
so blue..
eyes find it soothes
waiting on.
bus late.
contemplating, mind rages
sea
lost in deep
hue pool
sharp, wind wrapping body.
waitin on,
waiting on.
contemplating. gone.
daydreamin way thru life.
thru the little things
i always belittled.
cause I thought I had what i needed. or what I had was mine to keep.
...just because.
i need a little more somethin
a little more new, more original stop cliches, tropes,& archetypes in general
droll,
repetition equals learning, well i'll just lurn-less
beg to differ, by beggin questions, even when forced to tread slow,&only do so in head.
we’re all middlemen.
just fiddlin’
‘round in world,
in universe,
riddled withh riddles,
that
trickle,
drip
in
complex
descent
from cognitive
  beginnings.
ephemeral glimpses of outside-nighttime-world,
through blinds in bed, as a child to now, still just as far from.
as far as real feels.
feelin nothing like how I do now.
but pain passes,
so it just must be my brain's capacity for trust shrank. & elaborates time taken for to cross neural pathways,
not get lost, and make it back safe save, all at the same time, while i attempt to ignore age
pay mind solely to the idea i can do, &I don't have to prove.
to become honest, so potential growth is optimum to be one with me, and know I can't ever be anything but and no idea is ever done, no matter finished, no grey matter greyer, no more dr. bender's, no more directions, no more winners, reflect on self, &what it means-to be better, i deflect defects w/ skylark teeth,  
a truer sense of.. truth
a higher level basic
newfound fundamentals
that all the world and creation in it,
then, now, or later
are truly small
&
no life was ever finished
nobody wants to give it up,but we learn to
and as a consequence return to world what we wish to see beyond our existence
to find trust again love again feel again believe again hurry up, clock's tickin
get it, grind look and find get inspired go inspire go perspire run a mile two three four
five seconds six seconds
gotta go for it gotta get better, 
 never listen only instrumentalz for me
in a room   aspire to be able to define my every rhyme and reason behind thoughts had,
itchin to stay consistent, keep on writing and don't worry about why, keep on filing tomes of dreams, ordering guides to self, from one idea to a whole library of shit I did,
 like,
"oh, damn kid, you wrote that?"
damn right I did.
conversations that I have in my head
while I reread pieces
an elixir, a pensive remedy
for when I feel reluctant toward
reality, when in reality
it's really just the people around me that I trusted, busted ass for, gave up past for filled up gigabytes, sticky notes, notepads for designed a whole world for,
put off parties, friends, a part of me I never gave a chance for. became an outcast for. put on mask for.
to be compared and not contrasted warned and not encouraged critiqued but not heard
made me want
to tell, create a story and not give a damn about glory.
although i worry how i come off..sometimes..
made me
change style time after time for some time, now..
made me have
to boost own confidence, own own ego; inflate like raft, & float to shore,
common ground with action &
focused on
how I'm amounting in life.
..apparently
im just climbing up invisible
mountains
but i don't let it make or break me,
used to,
but no more ,& nowit's just me.
&that's just crazy..
so im focused
on how im a mountain lion to moles tryna troll, but       most the time, tho                    I'm...focused on settling score with where               I've failed
& failed to respond to failure well
                                    let go
of initiative,   hung to anger
in orbit  around regret towards doors left unopened, words unspoken to people gone, that could've changed life, if only They could hear these thoughts.. if only I had someone to talk to besides myself, & people that talk to high-five themselves; given approval never sought, advice for battles never fought, in a room for most of youth, stuck in head, so much to see, explore lore of stories never written, so much done even before i decided to pick pen up, before i decided I was ready for commitment decisions in head turn to an every 5 minute thing,
                  stuck in holes    deeper than before
tell-tale signs around sub-subconscious                         that Im chasin nothin..
apparitions..
in front of people
waitin somethin fierce
for me to
summon what's already there
a mirror image of miracle from thinnest air from holes put in life for pride in pages of jumbled thoughts gaps in memories for drafts that define ironic, describing fine lines I believe are there, in thinnest mirror, between me and experience in eyes that remind me i am less, i am more i am worse, i am better everything in between all and nothing, not objective, but an object capable of observation, own purpose assigned no more worth than yours, no more than I have dealt my self chances missed to live for product tossed or lost in the end
x's & lines through a mind confused,              backspaces                       scribbles       procrastinating daily, delaying the inevitable,                                           staring at.. ...coffee steam            and letters linked in ink curves and ink in nerves
        on nights only sleep's deferred as vivid as yesterdays and scenes in head of tomorrows            mixed in with skips in consciousness     obvious options almost always missed second guesses linger in gut like wtf
what the fuck am i doing everyday, if I don't contribute to future
to believe, or not to believe i was in control of will was the whole problem let go of all it hone on goals. fly low, that is...
as far a stretch as breath of desire to contribute to the world   believing if chance exists, i will succeed I will fulfill promises thru notepads & audience
a caged bird singing
do or do not.
seems all I've done is try, it seems to try isnt good enough, seems what they want from me wasn't what I was told they want, which is for me to want from me & instead what they want to see is what they want to see
me to become this and not my own, no matter how many hours spent, no matter the font, text, or etiquette formed to gain attention, but apparently a proper use of improper use of prose prospered overtime & i kept my posture, keep me from losing self, going crazy, letting people make me think something's not okay, or wrong with me, or out of whack off top, not taken seriously
priorities of the majority of society made it difficult to captivate eyes, and garner respect, because of conflictive internal contradictions to set out for what I thought was spreading message, but was embedding judgment of self, & effort, looking at motives that been made a home in heart like they suspect, but they was who fucked with me when I wouldn't even fuck with me, wanna be someone else, something else, like what you want clave?
to wait for mine..
psh, nnn’eh, thinking I was good enough to be taken seriously ..
thinking there was nothing to do, but to do, but something changed course, one day,
 one day atta time
thinking that I was right behind, could just lift up arm and touch but that wasn't the case, ever, constant race
     couldn't hold on, couldn't hide the pain to psyche out greatest opponent, me
                   didn't want to, saw no point
   repeating and repeating, over and again
so on and so forth, thus forth destroying self                               convinced I couldn't help it      and still am
and still can't
accept I ever gave in,   broke under pressure, buckled under what some would chuckle over, no pity, just recognition of jimity's petition to push when pushed, with thoughts into written gale force, in a position to always hope, so when foundation crumbles, there's another one up under
if not, I use earth to wander.
whether with excess of momentum or subsiding in subtle realization of sustenance behind life's work
purpose on course set to find reward I'm told I'm looking for..
fin
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