#but hey hello there's my new emotional support lesbian

[kittanthalos]

KIT TANTHALOS in WILLOW S01E01 | The Gales

#willow #willowedit #kit tanthalos #ruby cruz #dailywomen #userbbelcher #dailytvfilmgifs #wlwedit #wlwsource #willow disney #willow 2022 #idk how to even tag this #but hey hello there's my new emotional support lesbian #she's so c*nty i love her already #step on my throat #!mine

[loreolympusanalysisforfunsies]

How to put this-

What are the ethics of using queer coded characters and themes in a narrative that has no explicitly queer characters?

Welp, that question can be asked of many stories in media. Like, a metric shit ton. A lot. But since Lore Olympus is the flavour of the week (month? year?) for my brain, that's what I'll be applying this question to. And right away, asap, I'm talking critically about Lore Olympus. Critically as in taking a subject and thinking about what themes are in it and what those themes mean to me as a reader, not critically as in badmouthing it. Also, I'm no expert and I've only read my favourite chapters fifty million times, the other chapters maybe three times. So there's stuff I could have missed, please feel free to correct me. Also also I will be using the word queer a lot because that's what I am and what I'm talking about.

Just wanted to make that crystal queer.

Alrighty, queer-coded characters in Lore Olympus. Hello Eros, nice to be talking about you again. He's a fan favourite for some pretty good reasons. Compelling romantic sideplot, clear adversary to the asshat, and he's just plain fun. There can be plenty of heavy content when he's around, but he's also the guy that lightens the mood. Some of the faces he makes-fucking priceless. And hoo boy does he come off as the gay best friend. Romantic advice, shopping trips, make overs, the squeeing, those are some very old tropes. But he's not the gay best friend. Or at least, so vaguely bi/pan/etc that it can be written off as none of the above. The only hint we get that he's not straight is that orgy mentioned waaay back in the beginning. After that we get his backstory with Psyche and no mention of other interests since. The gay best friend trope was made when hollywood and equivalents stopped being quite so nasty to the LGBTQ+ community, but not quite to the point of queer positivity. It took signifiers that were used maliciously in the past (feminine aspects and interests) and put a humerous spin on them. Ah look, it's a guy that can expertly apply make up, how funny and nonthreatening he is. Maybe it was that funny and nonthreatening bit that the author was going for. Both Persephone and the readers just endured some pretty awful shit, so here's a new person for her support system that isn't threatening at all and brings along some lighter atmosphere. Super flamboyant and never shown to be sexually attracted to her-that's perfect, in you go.

And honestly, seeing a man that's in a relationship with a woman whose also in touch with his emotions and feminine side, that's pretty great. But it comes in a narrative completely without queer characters. When I first saw him I was pretty sure he was a stereotype. Now that I know he isn't, I feel mixed. Straight dudes should be able to be soft. But a story with so many characters, that talks seriously about their complicated inner lives, with all these romantic relationships, all that with no queer representation? Ehhhhhhh-

Getting to the endpoint a little early there, so onto the other queer coded characters. Most notable are Athena and Artemis. Athena is very androgynous in her design. And Artemis has a very telling moment with Persephone in which she tries to push the conversation away from the danger zone of her personal feelings. A loud, embarrassed exclamation that she isn't attracted to anyone? Yeah I've seen that one before. And here's where I'd like to think somewhat positively, because this is going somewhere. It might just be a similar line as Persephone, being torn about her membership with the eternal maidens. Or Lore Olympus Artemis may very well be a lesbian or asexual as her mythic counterpart has been. There's a lot of potential in her storyline.

Heck, there's a lot of potential all over this story. Greek mythology is filled to the brim with LGBTQ+ people. Skip Zeus and Apollo, because fuck those guys. We've got Achilles and Patroclus as the most well-known, but to be fair the mortals don't heavily feature in this one. Athena was bi, Hermes was bi, Dionysus isn't born yet but again, super bi. Aphrodite and Poseidon are both in open relationships within the story, and oh hey bi the way in the myths. Just saying, the greeks were very very gay.

But even if they weren't. Guess what. When you write a story of your very own, you can make your characters be anything. Case and point with Hera. This is a very, very different version of Hera. Sure, she can be capricious and act on a whim. But this isn't the same goddess that committed cruelties against women that Zeus forced himself on. At least to our knowledge. Nerp, this author has reinterpreted her to be a very sympathetic woman, and that's without changing what she went through. Hera was always someone that endured a lot of crap from her husband, but I didn't feel bad for her when I read her stories in class because hey, she was a vindictive shrew. By changing the patriarchal perspective that has some pretty strong opinions on women scorned, to the perspective of a woman author sympathetic to the woman character who is constantly shit on by everyone around her, the author has improved on the original subject material. Change, it's a good thing.

Ok, queer themes. Again I'd like to make a point right away, and the point here is the themes I'm about to talk about don't just affect queer people. These are lived experiences for many. But being kept naive of an outside world, being unable to explore your sexuality, people trying to override you when you tell them what's best for you and your body, are all things that deeply affect the queer community. There's a very good reason this fandom has so many LGBTQ+ members. Many moments in this story are affirming to us, and that's a good thing. This story also has a lot to say about gender roles. Persephone is the most recent of women that people are looking to use for their own selfish advancement. Hera has a very powerful line about sacrificing her power and potential to make Zeus feel comfortable and happy. And boy is that a line that fits millions of women and afabs throughout history. Making people comfortable by keeping a part of yourself shoved down, whether it's your ability in a field of work or your identity. Or maybe your disability. Or your religion. Your background. Lore Olympus hits pretty hard with a very real feeling of sacrificing bits of yourself to make what people see more palatable, easier for them to deal with. Hera and Persephone have breakdowns over these forced versions of themselves, the facade that's too much to keep up.

These problems don't exist in a bubble. They are problems that weave through many different subcultures and peoples. And unfortunately, some affected people can be excluded when such problems are addressed. I don't think the author decided to be exclusive on purpose. The kindest interpretation is that this simply isn't something that affected her directly, so she either didn't think to include it or didn't feel comfortable writing from a pov she doesn't share. The less kind interpretation is that she wanted to appeal to as broad a demographic as possible, and decided this was the way to do it. I'm not inclined to think that way of her, because she's showed herself to be very empathetic and thoughtful with pretty much every other aspect. But when we become so close with a piece of media, a story that touches us so deeply, one that strives to be realistic in themes like abuse and trauma, the question comes up. What about us? Do we exist? Are our problems seen? The end result of a narrative using queer-coded characters and themes without explicitly being queer is a disconnect. A feeling of separation from a story and characters that I otherwise feel very close to. A worry that these problems are only seen by, only affecting, heterosexual and cisgendered peoples. And I realize this would be hard to cover for someone who hasn't written queer characters in this story yet, someone who may or may not be LGBTQ+ themselves. But even so, even though there would be mistakes and bad faith critics and all else, I would rather she try. I would rather be seen.

#lore olympus #lo #lgbtq+ #long post #tw abuse #lo persephone #lo hera #lo artemis #lo athena #lo apollo

[allondonboy]

Medicine for the Soul (Ch 10)

Chapter 10 - Andante: dolce e più piano  (Ch 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9)

SO it's been a hot minute huh

thanks for all your support, especially those of you who've been following for a while. i'd love to hear what you think about this chapter.

thanks as always to anna @thisiismetrying for everything, including proofing

i think there are two more after this, and i'll do my best to not a) take fourteen / 14 months for the next update or b) kill the usb my master doc is on without an up-to-date backup oops

---

The side effect of becoming better friends with Vasquez is that they become even less concerned about calling Alex out during rehearsals than they had been before.

Unfortunately, they deserve it. Movements one and two of the concerto, they admit they’ve got down, but the third? That’s new in every kind of way. They’d never had time to work on it with their teacher. Jeremiah had never heard them massacre it. Moving on to arguably the happiest movement feels a lot like moving on from Jeremiah and they can almost feel the emotion-proof walls go up around their heart again.

As their rehearsal draws to a close, Alex takes a long drink of water and wipes their forehead with the back of their hand. Vasquez nods, satisfied, and closes the music.

“You definitely stand a good chance, Danvers,” they say. “If you nail the third movement, you’re almost certain to win.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Alex runs through what they just played and sure, there are a couple of bits that need work but nothing they can identify as truly problematic.

“It’s flat.”

Alex’s frown deepens and they swing their violin back up and start retuning. Vasquez sighs.

“Not that kind of flat. Add some bounce.”

“Some bounce,” Alex repeats slowly.

“Molto vivace, Danvers. Lively.”

“It is lively.”

“Look.” Vasquez shuts the piano and turns to face them. “The first two sound like you want us to know why you’re playing. The third is just notes. Boring, regular, notes. You need to bounce.”

“I don’t bounce,” Alex tries to reiterate, but Vasquez is standing and handing them the music and it comes out almost as a question.

“My advice? Learn to.”

“You’ll be playing to an audience. Take that tree.” She points to the tree outside the window. The branches are bare, covered in a light frost, and it looks almost sad by the road. “Play to it.”

“You want me to play to a tree.”

“Yes.” Their teacher meets their stubborn gaze with her own. “What, are you scared it’s going to judge you?”

Alex fights back a sneer at the thought of a tree scaring them and gets into position. “Pfft. Not at all.”

Okay, it’s harder than they thought to play to an inanimate object. They can feel their teacher’s eyes on them and flick a glare subconsciously towards her. She catches it and turns away. Alex’s shoulders still have pressure on them and they press them back until they’ve waited too long for this to be a normal getting-in-the-zone pause and they raise their bow.

“Hello, tree,” they mutter under their breath, and then they begin.

It’s weird, playing to a lump of wood. Their fingers find the familiar notes and patterns and their body starts to sway with the melody, rising and falling with the dynamics and drawing the story out of their body – not that they know what the story is, but the wind against the tree outside is oddly captivating and they find themselves trying to talk to the tree through the music as they go.

The last note pings through the room into nothingness. Their teacher claps slowly.

“Brava,” she says. Alex is disconnected from the world. They’re foggy – like they’re in the room but not properly. “That’s what you need to do every time.”

Well yeah, that would be easy if they knew what they’d done.

There’s a knock on the door and Alex swallows a groan to open it. Maggie is there, flannel pushed up to her elbows, nose red with cold even in the early summer warmth. She gives a cautious smile and Alex opens the door wider.

“Maggie, hey, come in,” they say. “Ignore the pyjamas.”

“I have seen them before, Danvers, and they’re still cute.” Maggie hesitates in the doorway and takes a deep breath. “Is now a good time to cash in that rain check on seeing the stars?”

Alex searches Maggie’s face for a second then responds with a quiet “sure.”

Maggie nods, once, and Alex gestures to their pants. “I’ll just change.”

“Don’t want to show the world your exquisite taste in sleepwear?” Lucy’s voice comes from behind her wardrobe door. “Hey, Sawyer.”

Maggie takes another step into the room and shuts the door. “The world can’t handle their sleepwear, Lane.”

“Is that why I found it on the floor the last time you stayed over?”

“What can I say, Alex makes anything and nothing look good.”

“Oh, Sawyer.”

At the note of glee in Lucy’s voice, Alex, blushing red to the tips of their ears, flips her off and shoves their feet into their nearest pair of boots. “Not every part of my life is for your enjoyment, Lucy.”

“Wrong,” sings Lucy with a wink at Maggie. Maggie laughs and Alex shrugs on their jacket.

“I hate you,” they inform Lucy, who beams at them.

“Wrong again,” she says, “you love me.”

“Sure, sure,” says Alex. They pick up Lucy by the waist and shuffle to the right, placing her by her bed and moving her out of the way of the drawer they open to retrieve a small flashlight. They nod at Maggie, hand hovering over the door handle, and stuff their keys into their pocket along with their phone and the flashlight. “Let’s go.”

Lucy tugs her shirt straight and follows Alex to the door as they leave. “Stay safe, kids. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“We won’t do anything you would do, either,” Maggie calls over her shoulder to Alex’s chortle.

--

They walk in silence, the crunch of their boots and the whistle of their breath the only sound in the night air. Occasionally, there’s the hint of hesitation from beside them that can only be Maggie trying to work out what to say. They don’t want to rush her however much they ache to know why so much anxiety is radiating off her.

Maggie’s hands shake as she pulls out another packets of mints.

“You get the best view from down here,” says Alex, sinking to the floor and laying down, arms folded across their torso. Maggie spends a moment looking down at them, face barely illuminated by the little moonlight, before joining them, a couple of inches apart, soft grass cushioning them both.

“I only know a few constellations,” says Maggie eventually. Alex can’t tell if that’s an invitation to expand, so they don’t.

“My grandfather died.”

Maggie’s voice cuts through the air and Alex simultaneously feels the familiar burn of grief and an unexpected shiver at Maggie’s blank voice.

“I’m sorry,” they say.

“It’s, whatever,” she says, shrugging, and Alex turns onto their side.

“It’s not whatever,” they say emphatically. Maggie doesn’t reply and Alex rolls back onto their back.

Maggie sighs. “I heard it from my cousin. I’ve not been invited to the funeral.”

“What?” Alex sits up. “You – why not?”

“When I told you that my parents were supportive of my coming out, I lied. When they found out I was a lesbian, my dad kicked me out and I had to live with an aunt for three years.”

“Maggie…”

Maggie holds up a hand. “It’s whatever, Danvers.”

“It’s not whatever,” says Alex again, “and we are going to talk about it, but not now. We don’t need to discuss that now. Okay?”

Maggie shrugs again. She plucks a handful of grass out of the ground and shreds it so it falls on her.

“My uncle’s kids and my aunt are the only family who still talk to me, and that’s how I found out, because they wanted to know if I needed somewhere to stay.”

“That’s… I’m sorry.” Alex winces at how lame it sounds.

“Tell me about them,” they say quietly once seconds of silence have stretched into minutes, and Maggie’s breath catches. “If you want to.”

“I…” Maggie takes a deep breath and Alex waits, but she doesn’t speak.

“There’s no pressure,” Alex reassures her gently. They deliberately place their hand between them and after a moment’s pause Maggie laces her fingers with theirs.

“Vovô taught me to play.” Maggie’s fingers tap absentmindedly on Alex’s. “I’d sit on his knee and he’d cover my hands with his and play. I have no idea how he managed to play with me in the way.”

The tapping ceases.

“He gave me my cavaquinho.” The choking of her voice makes her tongue stumble on the Portuguese word. “He taught me samba.”

Alex squeezes her fingers gently.

“He tried to teach my cousins, but the only one who had the patience was José and he preferred cooking, so Vovô and I would play for him and my grandmother while they cooked. It was our thing. It’s the only thing about my family I can remember being proud of.”

Alex watches her brow furrow and resists the urge to soothe it with their hand.

Maggie swallows, hard. “I don’t know what my parents told him about me. It wouldn’t surprise me if he died thinking I was an abomination. I don’t even know if he’d want me at the funeral.”

Unbidden, Alex’s mind jumps to the days surrounding Jeremiah’s funeral – the funeral itself hidden inside a bottle – and their heart burns in sympathy.

Their instinctive reaction is to reassure Maggie that he would want her there – but even as the thought flits through their mind they realise that they’d have hated that, the automatic platitude in the midst of an unnecessarily complicated situation.

Regardless, some of her living family do not want her there, and Alex knows the rekindled burn of familial distance and disgust all too well to suggest Maggie even contemplate putting herself in that position.

“I don’t know either,” Alex says, “but I know that you have an aunt that loves you enough to take you in, and cousins who love you enough to offer you somewhere to stay. And you’ve got me.” They give a crooked smile and catch Maggie’s tear-filled eyes. She gives a watery smile back. “You’ve got me and Lucy and Kara. We’re your family now.”

Alex knows they’ve said the right thing when the grip on their hand gets tighter and tighter and Maggie slowly curls into their chest and they hold her as she grieves not just the man who meant so much to her, but the love she lost with him.

---

Alex doesn’t know how to bring up the fact that Maggie lied to them. They can see she doesn’t either, with the way she worries her lip and her shoulders hunch whenever Alex reaches out to her.

It’s not until one afternoon when they open the door to head out to do the groceries and find Maggie with her hand raised to knock that they finally talk.

Maggie slips into their room silently. Alex closes the door and joins her on the bed, sitting cross-legged beside her but half an arm’s distance away.

“I wanted to tell you.” Maggie’s voice is gravelly, as though she hasn’t spoken in days.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know, okay? Maybe I didn’t want to scare you. I wanted it to be better for you. I wanted to give you hope that your mom might come around.”

“Maggie - ”

“You never see the happy endings for people like us. They never give us a story where the lesbians live happily ever after with the slow dancing and the dogs and the arguments over how to load the dishwasher. And I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like for non-binary people.”

“It’s not a competition. No type of discrimination or oppression or whatever the fuck word you want to use trumps another.” Alex swivels so they’re completely facing Maggie, though she doesn’t move and continues staring at the carpet. “One person’s rough time doesn’t cancel out someone else’s.” 

Maggie shrugs.

“No, Maggie. You are your own person, first and foremost, with your own past and your own list of likes and dislikes and shoving that down for someone else’s sake? Not going to wash with me, especially if you’re so insistent that I work on that too.”

Maggie shrugs again and still doesn’t move to face Alex. “You don’t deserve to have to deal with my troubles on top of yours,” she says bluntly and Alex works their jaw.

“My choice, right?” they say, and then: “Tell me about it?” in the same gentle tone in which they’d asked her to tell me about them? up on the hill.

Maggie stays where she is, elbows on her knees, hair falling over her face as the last barrier between Alex and the onslaught of emotions fighting its way out of her. Her fingers dig into the pads of her thumbs as her hands settle into clenched fists. Alex takes one of them and rubs the tension out of it and with it, a trembling breath leaves Maggie.

“I had this friend when I was fourteen - Eliza Wilkie. We'd hang out in her parents' basement, watching horror flicks, and smoking cigarettes. She was the first girl that I knew that I liked in a way that was different. And I thought that she liked me, too. And so, on Valentine's Day, I put a card in her locker declaring my feelings and asking her to the dance. Well, she gave that card to her parents, and then they called my parents, and that's how I was outed.”

Alex can almost feel the puzzle pieces fall into place in their mind. “And that’s why you don’t like Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not going to force you to celebrate something that brings up bad memories for you.”

Maggie shifts uncomfortably. “You wanted to celebrate and I stopped you. I want to make you happy.”

“I don’t want you to change who you are to accommodate me.” Alex’s words are hard and their eyes fierce. Maggie’s head snaps up to look at them for the first time since she arrived, so startled at the conviction in their voice. “You’ve had enough people demanding that of you, people who should be uplifting and supporting you. I’m not one of them, Maggie. You don’t have to be guarded with me, okay?”

Maggie breathes out, and then Alex is gathering her in their arms, cradling her head against their shoulder like she’s done with them so many times.

“I am here to help you heal,” they say softly. “On your own terms, as your own person.”

---

In the end, Maggie decides not to go to the funeral, but it doesn’t mean they haven’t talked about it together at length and it doesn’t mean there isn’t a small part of her that thinks she should be there.

More than once, Alex reminds her that they have the ability to buy her a last-minute ticket if she needs it. More than once, Maggie shakes her head and says that midterms have to be her priority.

Moving on, she calls it.

Alex privately calls it avoidance but isn’t going to argue when having her close means that they can look after her.

The closer it gets, the less Maggie talks about it, and the more Alex starts to dominate conversation again.

They can’t help it: the conversation swings around to them every time and the rambling begins again and their last paper went exceptionally badly, and they’re toying with their Stanford hoodie with not an unsubstantial amount of hatred flaring up at the pressure Eliza puts on them to study in a top programme in a top school, until they have to say something because the silence is getting to them and they can feel their head about to explode.

“For fuck’s sake!”

The sudden exclamation from Maggie jolts them and it becomes clear that she’s at the same stage. She presses the heels of her hands into her eyes and Alex leans over to rub her shoulder.

“It’s a bit of a double-edged sword, isn’t it?” Alex says. “The prestige of being here but then the pressure to live up to it all.”

Maggie still doesn’t speak but reaches up to hold Alex’s hand on her shoulder. Alex starts playing with her fingers.

“But, as so many people have been saying to me for years, if you don’t get the grades you want, you just pick yourself up and try - ”

“I’m on scholarship, Danvers.” It’s almost a laugh. Alex slams their mouth shut as they let the pieces fall into place.

“Oh.”

“I don’t get a second chance. I screw up and I give them an excuse to throw me out, and it’s back to waitressing for racist, sexist pigs, or – or busking on the streets, barely making ends meet. Not that I’m doing much better here.”

“Oh,” Alex says again, because that’s all they can think. Maggie gets off the bed and dusts herself off, heading for her desk again and looking for all the world like she’s about to cry.

“So, thanks for the pep talk, Danvers, but I really need to – oomph.”

Alex is behind her as her voice starts to crack and wraps their arms around her, drawing her head into their chest and cradling her pounding heart against their own as Maggie lets the exhaustion seep into their shirt.

“Working yourself to exhaustion isn’t going to help you in the long run,” Alex says into a mouthful of hair, suddenly discovering all the things buried in their brain that people have told them over the years to the same effect, and rubs Maggie’s back. “Seriously, it’s a crap place to be. Have at least a power nap, and then if you really want to, you can go back to work, yeah?”

Maggie nods into their chest.

“Want me to leave you to it?” Alex tries to pull back to look into Maggie’s face but she clings on and shakes her head. “Okay.”

They carefully spin them round so they can help Maggie slide under the blanket on her bed. They make sure she’s comfortable and press a quick kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll be back in a minute – binder,” they say softly, and Maggie hums, eyes already closing as she sinks further into the mattress. Alex comes back to her tiny snuffles, forehead finally free of frown lines, and quickly untangles Maggie’s legs from the blanket before sliding in next to her. They fire a quick text off to Lucy to let her know of their whereabouts, and within seconds, the reassuring weight of their girlfriend’s body in their arms is enough to send them off to sleep too.

---

Alex knows that midterms and finals turn them into some sort of monster. According to Lucy, however, Maggie somewhat dampens the effects due to the simple fact that they both spend equal amounts of time switching between comforting the other and panicking themselves.

By the time midterms are done, the competition is near and Alex realises they haven’t told Maggie. How do you casually bring up that you’re playing in a college-wide music competition when your girlfriend is going through a not-so-small crisis? They’re acutely aware that tact is something they’ve been lacking for a while, and in an attempt to focus more on Maggie, they decide to keep quiet on it for the time being.

What they don’t admit to themselves is that there’s a not insignificant part of them that worries she’ll think it’s stupid.

Keeping it quiet ends up being the worst thing they could do. Maggie gets increasingly tense every time Alex gives a new excuse for why they can’t hang out with her, and a rift between them starts to make itself known. That it comes after Alex called Maggie out for lying to them doesn’t help, and they catch themselves with it on the tip of their tongue multiple times before they finally take the plunge of letting it spill out, one afternoon when Maggie asks if they want to properly go out for dinner one weekend.

“Oh, I can’t on Saturday,” realises Alex, and it hits them that this is as good a time as any to tell Maggie. “I have an audition.”

“Oh?”

“The, uh, concerto competition?”

“Yeah?” Maggie’s quirked smile becomes a bigger grin. “That’s awesome!”

Alex’s breath escapes them in a relieved whoosh of air. “Yeah?”

“What did you think I’d think?” says Maggie with an air of mild bewilderment. Alex gives a one-armed shrug. Maggie leans up to kiss them and their cheeks warm.

“You want to come with?” they ask hesitantly. “Then I could still see you, even if we can’t go out.”

The hand Maggie reaches out to grasp Alex’s forearm with is gentle in contrast to how much she lights up, and she runs her thumb over the crease in their elbow. “I’d love to, Danvers. Thank you.”

---

Vasquez stands and stretches.

“Ready, Danvers?”

Alex stares at the door and wipes their free, sweaty palm down the front of their pants.

“No.”

They spin abruptly and come face-to-top-of-head with their girlfriend.

“Yes.”

“No,” says Alex again.

Maggie cups their cheek with her hand. They close their eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Maggie,” they whisper.

Neither of them see Lucy stride up behind Alex and smack them upside the head, sending their forehead into Maggie’s with a resounding thwack.

“Sorry, Sawyer. Danvers, don’t talk trash. Get that handsome head in the game right now and go dazzle some musicians.”

Before Alex can register what Lucy just said, she’s opening the door with one hand and shoving them through it with the other, gesturing Vasquez through and waving at Alex, who’s doing an excellent impression of a deer caught in the headlights as the door closes on them.

#nb!alex #sanvers #sanvers fic #sanvers au #alex danvers #my fic #medicine for the soul #enjoy?

[marvellouslymadmim]

You’ve said before you didn’t see hackle initially and I’m just wondering what tipped you over the edge. I have trouble seeing it but I am curious about it.

First, let me just say thank you for the way you’ve approached this outlook/question. Given recent events, when I see an anon ask with “why” and “hackle”, I immediately get a wee bit tense. So I doublyappreciate you coming into this with an open mind and a kind attitude.

Second, I came to this fandom entirely to see Raquel Cassidy.I expected this to be some kind of cutesy kids show which I could watch withhalf an eye and see RaqCass’ beautiful expressive face from time to time. Andthen she showed up in HELLO NEW PERSONA WHO DIS jfc gimme detention right MEOWMiss Hardbroom. Naturally, I turned to tumblr to enable this sudden new levelof obsession. And the tumblrs I saw were all Hicsqueak and so I was well awareof Pippa Pentangle before I even saw her on my screen. And so I think frombasically the very first episode, I was “programmed”, in a way, to see Hecateas a partner to Pippa. So…I didn’t really look for subtext elsewhere.

But like any bias, you only see what you look for, you know?

And gosh Pippa is such a force and Hecate’s emotional reaction is equallyexplosive and so yeah it’s totally LOOK AT ALL THESE LESBIANS.

And then the Hackle Summer Trope Challenge came along. And Ithought “Look I love Hecate Hardbroom and I want to write her as much aspossible. I’ve never done a writing challenge, and I really don’t see Ada andHecate as romantically interested in each other, but hey, that only makes agreater challenge, right?” If you read my first entry in that series, SurvivalSkills, you’ll see that Hecate and Ada actually interact very little in thatstory. There’s more tension and banter between Dimity and Hecate (whom yes I doship as well) because I found Dimity Drill extremely easy to write (she’sactually my favorite to write, but don’t tell the others). I hadn’t found Ada’svoice at the time, not well enough to write her for extended lengths of time. 

The thing that has always stood out to me is that Hecate Hardbroom,regardless of whom she’s paired with, is a hopeless romantic with a sense ofgallant devotion. She also has an extreme worthiness complex and a life builton meritocracy (something we’ve seen proven further true in this season especially). I think that while she very happily admires feminine beauty, forit to be love, she has to feel that the person is worthy—not worthy of her lovein particular (because I don’t think she finds her own love a particularlyvaluable thing), but worthy of respect, loyalty, and devotion in general. AndTHAT was something I did see between her and Ada, when I watched the seriesagain with a keener eye. She says, more than once and with more than a littleconviction and passion, that Ada Cackle is good. She believes this, and she’ssomeone who would not say such a thing lightly. She feels that certainty in herbones.

Also a few things happened in season two that shifted thetides for me. In particular: The Friendship Trap, in which Hecate gives Ada this look:

I don’t know what others see when they look at this, but Isee the look of a woman who is so fucking pleased with Ada’s capabilities in asmug “oh, look at my baby go” kind of way. Then there’s this:

I call this look the “woman, the second we’re alone you arenot safe because I am gonna absolutely rail you.” (and that’s the politeinterpretation).

Almost every other instance I could sweep under the categoryof “just really good friends who love each other dearly and strictly platonically”.But that look is so unmitigated and just like…Hecate, there are childrenpresent. Calm your tits, woman.

Also throughout season two, you see more of Hecate andAda’s relationship develop. I see a connection between this show and DowntonAbbey—I definitely see the dynamics of Carson and Hughes reflectedin Hecate and Ada. The uptight stuffy establishment supporting time-keeper who believespraise should be earned, and the more forward-thinking, at times flighty andfun loving mischief maker who understands that you catch more flies with honey,and who can often very easily soften the sour-faced rule-enforcer with a gentlelook or a touch. It’s a match of equals and complements, who work as a team,who go from friends to lovers in a long, meandering path that is continuously linedwith genuine respect and admiration.

I think it was hovercraft79 who said that each ship is kindof like apples to oranges. Each one gives you something different. For me, I’mtired of seeing every wlw relationship as this thing filled with angst anddrama—whether it’s a classic queer-dies-for-the-straight-cries or sexualityangst or gosh-two-women-must-be-super-dramatic-because-women-amirite. And soHackle is just this sweet summer breeze of fresh air. Their jobs are complicated,but their love, for the most part, is not. Even when they have issues, at the endof the day, they know who’s going to be in their bed and at their side. They’retrue partners, and they believe in each other when no one else does. They’resoft looks and sweet smiles and solid reassurances of yes we will. And I lovethat. I love seeing two women whose lives are not completely defined by theirsexuality or their romantic relationship, just loving another woman without itbeing The Thing or even A Thing.

I think our ships often say a lot about how we see ourselvesand how we wish to be seen and loved by others. I think, more than anything,that’s why I love Hackle so. Because when I see that, I sigh and go, “Yeah, I wantthat.” I want soft looks and kind words and cups of tea and two black cats andthe kind of magic that shimmers without loud pops or explosions. I want the simplehopeful joy I feel when I look at them. And I can’t unsee it.

I know I just wrote a novel to answer a simple question, but I don’t think I can sum it up more succinctly (and I legit cut about 4 extra paragraphs from this). Thanks again and I hope this sheds some light. 

#thanks anon #hackle #tww2017 #a novella explanation

[clovertrails]

reflections on compulsory heterosexuality and “The Half of It”

*spoiler alert*

In an interview with Netflix, Alice Wu beautifully sums up the queer, coming-of-age film, The Half of It: 

“This story is really about three people who collide and, in that moment in time, each of them ends up finding the piece within themselves that allows them to become the person that they need to be.”  

Thus, the movie sets up and subverts expectations of what a love story should be. The emotional force of the movie stems from the unconventional bond between sharp-minded and pragmatic nerd, Ellie Chu, and golden-retriever-in-human-form, Paul Munsky. They are complementary opposites: Munsky cares for and stands up for Ellie with his brazen good-naturedness, giving her the confidence to seize the future for herself, and Ellie offers her words as a way to help him realize his dreams and carve out independence from his chaotic family. They are platonic soulmates. 

Nonetheless, there is a moment in the film where the ball drops on their lovely and unexpected friendship. It’s after a football game, after Paul has scored the school’s sole touchdown in years. He enters a room, leaning against the doorway in a classic he’s-about-to-kiss-you stance. As Ellie awkwardly holds an armful of Yakult, he says, “Hey,” prompting her to look up. He stares for a split second too long before swooping in for an (awful, terrible, wretched) kiss. 

His lips barely graze Ellie’s before she freaks out and moves away, dropping the prized Yakult on the floor in the process. “What are you doing,” Ellie asks Paul accusingly. Indeed, when I was watching the film, I was screaming at Paul: WHAT ARE YOU DOING???

I was mad at Paul, and still at the end of the movie, I remained befuddled by the kiss scene. It came out of nowhere, I said incredulously, to my siblings, with whom I watched it for the first time. (I subsequently had two more The Half Of It watch parties...listen, we are all trying to survive this quarantine.)

Sarah, my sister mentioned that she had discussed with her queer friends how close relationships between a guy and a girl so easily, almost inevitably, are scripted as romantic love. The strong-willed tomboyish girl strikes up a relationship with the puppy-dog, supportive boy and they get along swell until the boy develops feelings for her and she, while initially resistant, ultimately (naturally) admits her feelings for him, and they end up happily together. 

How many stories did you read growing up that followed this plot line? Me? So many, too many. I’m reminded of the term “compulsory heterosexuality” coined by feminist theorist and poet Adrienne Rich in her 1980 essay wherein she argues against the notion that all women are naturally predisposed to be sexually attracted to men (and the following supposition that lesbianism is unnatural). While sapphic relations are much more visible and accepted in the mainstream today (hello, Portrait of a Lady on Fire), compulsory heterosexuality profoundly endures in the ways that relationships between girls and boys are charged with romanticism even before they can be fully understood by either party. 

 I’m reminded of my first real best friend in high school, who was a gay guy whom I met in a summer program and who remains my good friend. Despite him living in Texas and me in New York, we digitally sutured ourselves to each other during our senior year of high school. We were both fairly miserable, anxious and depressed, overwhelmed by college applications and desperately wanting to get out, by any means necessary. We became what in-the-know people would now refer to as “codependent,” and after a few months of constant texting I realized that this urge I felt to constantly be in contact with him, like a ghostly limb, must be a crush, a necessarily doomed desire. I guarded this feeling for months and, in short, after convoluted and messy communications, I confessed my feelings, he responded graciously, and we gave ourselves some distance. 

While my feelings were undoubtedly complicated, I realized that I could have saved myself a lot of drama if I had interrogated my feelings and allowed them to exist outside of the mandate of heterosexuality. This desire to merge, to be united with someone, is a feeling that I’ve had in my closest relationships, many of them no less important for being mostly platonic. But highschool me immediately labeled my feelings as “romantic,” relegating them to a distinct and privileged category. My friend texted me this “relationship anarchy smorgasbord” chart a few months ago that I think better illustrates the kinds of intimacies that we share with each other: 

Source: Phoenyx Enterprising 

(https://www.phoenyxenterprising.com/relating.html)

Relationship anarchy, from my very cursory knowledge, is predicated upon open mutual acknowledgment and agreement of the forms of intimacy that bind people together. This kind of communication is extremely queer, in my opinion, and necessarily antithetical to compulsory heterosexuality, which is sustained through implicit projection. 

Reflecting on my personal experiences, I’ve come to understand and sympathize with Paul, to some degree. I still am deeply unimpressed by his instinct to ACT on his feelings without first asking Ellie how she felt, or whether she reciprocated his feelings. However, he and Ellie bond intensely over a short period of time; he finds something like a soulmate but lacks any interpretative framework for the intense feelings he has for a girl outside of heterosexual romantic love, so he immediately calls it a crush and, with his white man confidence, misreads Ellie’s affection for attraction.  My other friend, Joce, brilliantly highlighted the football game that precedes the failed kiss scene. When Paul looks up at the stands, he glances at his girlfriend, Aster, but his gaze settles upon Ellie. In realizing that perhaps he was actually looking for Ellie the whole time, he realizes that Ellie, instead of Aster, is his love interest.

The thing is, they are each other’s love interest, but not in a way that can be easily defined. I’m not saying that it’s impossible for Paul to have had romantic feelings for Ellie, but that the movie acknowledges and reveals the absurd fallacy of a straightforward heterosexual reading of their relationship and in doing so demonstrates the poverty of our frameworks and vocabulary for interpreting matters of the heart. The Half of It is very much a feel-good coming-of-age movie, but it is radical in the ways that it refuses the form of a romantic love story—either heterosexual or lesbian—and instead focuses on the unexpected and opaque ways that we stumble into love. 

#The Half of It #movies

[ronanlyncx]

the best parts of the foxhole court (feat. me crying)

- i’m not saying love at first sight exists but… the first time they meet andrew almost breaks neil’s ribs <3333

- “Andrew smiled down at Neil and tapped two fingers to his temple in salute. “Better luck next time.” this is… gay

- ““I’m not good enough to play on the same court as a champion.” “True, but irrelevant.” a new voice said.” Okay i know we have all acknowledged that kevin day is the queen of being extra but like…. nothing will ever top this

- “Where the court is, Kevin is.” “I didn’t think the court is what Kevin was staying for [talking about Andrew]” #gay

- “You have a nice car for someone who thinks he’s poor,” “That’s why we’re poor.”

- Andrew pretending to be Aaron when he picked Neil up from the airport

- “”I did.” Neil said. He tapped two fingers to his temple, copying Andrew’s mocking salute from their first meeting. “Better luck next time.” you know what this is? gay. 

- “Keys meant Neil had explicit permission to be here and do what he liked. They meant he belonged.” Neil has a key kink

- When Neil gets his new racquet it was “all he could do” to keep from crushing the net to his nose and smelling it…..wtf

- “It was a little comforting that neither Aaron or Nicky was scoring, either, but Kevin landed almost a third of his shots. It was a poor show from a former national champion, but it was also intensely humbling as Kevin had grown up playing left handed. Seeing him take on Andrew right-handed was ballsy enough; seeing him score was surreal.” kevin and neil supporting each other is my kink

- “Neil watched him [Kevin] over his shoulder. “I saw him first.” Nicky said. “I thought you had Erik,” Neil said.” Neil “i don’t swing” Josten my ass

- ““What’s Andrew doing?” Neil asked. “Nothing.” wow i love foreshadowing

- Kevin telling Nicky that Neil could be court…. my heart is full my plants are watered my acne is gone

- “Neil couldn’t hear the answer, but the sharp slap of the phone snapping shut again said it wasn’t the one Kevin wanted.” kevin being extra exhibit B

- “Neil was much better at instigating fights than winning them.” oh honey we know

- Neil is so extra okay like,,, when they were moving Matt into the dorm Neil literally did not take his duffel bag off his shoulder the entire time….they carried couches up the stairs,,,and he didn’t take the bag off,,, i fucking hate him lmao

-’“The death threats were creative, though.” Nicky said. “Maybe this time they’ll follow through and actually kill one of us. Let’s vote. I nominate Seth.” jesus nora really did that 

- ““He’s short, can’t play, and looks like he has an attitude problem,” Seth said.” i can’t believe this is neil josten’s official twitter bio

- “Neil didn’t know what triggered their [Allison and Seth’s] abrupt and constant change in emotions. He hoped he never understood.” Neil being 100% done with the straights™

- Nicky telling neil he knows about his contacts and is like “why tf would you choose brown?” and neil is like “I like brown” and nicky goes “Andrew doesn’t” #gay

- Nicky needing the directions to the exit to Sweeties and Andrew is like “the one with the waffle house” and you can physically feel Nicky looking into the camera like he’s on the office,“This is South Carolina. Every exit leads to waffle house.” lmaoooo

- Neil paying the busboy $100 to knock him out so he doesn’t tell his secrets 

- ““You’ll need all the water you can get today. Cracker’ll dehydrate you like no one’s business.” Neil answered by upending his glass onto the floor.” bad attitude™

- i’d just like to take the time to say that i love matt boyd

- “Andrew reached up and forcibly uncurled Neil’s fingers from his mouth. He pushed Neil’s hand out of the way and stared at Neil with nothing between them. Neil didn’t understand the look on his face…whatever the look was it was dark and intense enough to swallow Neil whole” this is so fucking gay

- ““Are you stupid?” Seth asked Neil. “Yeah.”

- “look here shortbus” lol

- “He [Neil] had enough problems getting along with his classmates now that he was wearing his exy jersey. He caused a small disruption wherever he went.” i’m sorry neil but literally no one cares about sports this much 

- “Neil looked between Seth and Allison. “Are Andrew and Renee…?” oh no honey renee is a lesbian

- ““This is my reassured face,” Neil said, pointing to his blank expression.” he’s so extra i hate him sjdsdkksdks  

- Dan slamming into a player hard enough to knock him over… suddenly i love sports

- ““Going in for Seth Gordon is freshman Neil Josten, number ten, of Millport, Arizona.” Neil wondered if casket lids sounded like court doors slamming shut.” he’s so extra sdkldjslk

- “Hey, Pinocchio. Time to run. This one’s for you.” I don’t know how this is gay but it is

- “Dan stumbled over to Matt, looped her arms around his neck, and fell asleep immediately.” they’re so cute i tolerate one (1) straight couple

- “Damn it all to hell. Hemmick! You were supposed to wake them up ten miles ago.” “I don’t want to die.” 

- Wymack throwing his wallet at Andrew to wake him up 

- ““Morning sunshine,” Matt said. “Fuck you” Kevin said. Dan yawned into her hand. “Glad to see you’re still a morning person.”  “Fuck you too.” big mood

- ““It’s good to see you again,” Kevin said, and smiled as he took her hand. Behind Kathy’s back, Dan feigned swooning into Matt’s arms.” Dan Wilds is an icon

- “Renee was sitting sideways in Andrew’s lap, one foot braced against the ground to keep him from shoving her off. She had a hand over his mouth as they both stared up at the stage. Matt had one of Andrew’s wrist in both hands. Wymack had the other.” refer to this post

- ““I can’t,” Neil said. “I have a bit of an attitude problem.” there is literally no way to describe the feeling you get when you first read this part like i seriously have goosebumps,,, neil standing up for kevin, neil shutting riko’s bullshit answers and excuses down, neil leaving kathy a shook mess… 15/10 

- ““Someone as inexperienced as you are has no right to an opinion on this matter.” “All the same, I’ll give you one more,” Neil said.” BRUHHHHH 

- “Riko,” Andrew said, spreading his arms as if he intended to hug Riko hello.” this man high as fuck

- “It’s fine, Coach,” Andrew said catching up to them. He touched Neil’s back on his way by, fingers light enough to give Neil goose bumps, but didn’t slow down on his way to Kevin’s side.” do y’all understand how fucking gay this is

- “Oh, Neil, as unpredictable as he is unreal.”

- Andrew punching the window and Matt getting paid $300 to fix it

- “Remember this feeling. This is the moment you stop being the rabbit.” i’m so fucking emo you don’t even understand 

- Everyone being so shook when they figured out Neil could speak french AND german 

- Andrew giving Neil clothes pt. 2

- “A group of people shouldered their way up to the bar counter at Neil’s back, pushing him into Andrew. Andrew didn’t budge beneath his weight. He was something solid to lean against, something violent and fierce and unmoving.” Okay neil was probably pressed against Andrew for five seconds (at most) this is so gay and sosososo extra

- Kevin downing thirteen drinks in less than 2 hours..i cannot even imagine,,, this gave me alcohol poisoning just reading it

- the monsters getting the news about seth, and kevin is like “what about the line-up?” and nicky is like ???dude??? and kevin goes “it’s not a major loss.” i’m going to hell for laughing

- ANDREW GIVING NEIL THE KEY TO THE HOUSE IN COLOMBIA I LOVE DYING AND BEING DEAD

#aftg #tfc #andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #Allison Reynolds #i really love doing these whenever i re read books so here u go friends #i cant wait until the 'you know i get it' roast ....in the raven king #also i love neil josten so fucking much yall don't understand

[sableaire]

Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I really look up to you for considering everyone's opinion and being calm and level-headed. I feel like I don't see a lot of toxic, passive-aggressive Tumblr stuff here. It's a breath of fresh air imo. I was just wondering how you do it? Like, what do you tell yourself, when you feel angry about someone else's opinion, but want to remind yourself that they're entitled to it? It would really help me! Thank you.

Hello - thank you for your kind words, Anon. I try hard to try and make my blog a comfortable place for the most amount of people, and though I sometimes feel like I slip up, I’m glad that you find my blog something refreshing.

I can’t really say how it is that I avoid the toxic, Tumblr passive-aggression. Part of it may just be that I avoid it myself, so it never ends up on my dash. However, thinking on it now, I guess a lot of that is a deliberate choice as well.

Something that gives me a lot of perspective on things like this is that I’ve changed a lot as a person in just the last six years. The transition from high school to college to now near-graduation was a significant one, and I underwent a lot of personal growth.

As such, I know what it’s like to make mistakes as a teenager (or younger). I know who I was, how I thought, and I know what would have worked on me and what would not have. 

This post has gotten super-long, possibly my longest yet(?) so I’ll put it under the cut as usual. If you want to just skim the example given and go straight to tips, skip down to the bolded portion, ahaha. More under the cut:

Just a warning, but this example contains mentions of homophobia and, additionally, some highly negative or dangerously neutral opinions that I personally held in the past. I no longer retain such beliefs. I ask that you look upon this example as a story of growth, as I do. 

For example, as a young teen, I had a very firm belief (not taught, just a personal belief that came out of nowhere;;) that anything sexual was bad, and I was more morally pure for having no interest in it. Additionally, I was raised in a highly homophobic environment, and because I had no concept of romantic/sexual attraction in the first place, I had no reason to really think about the idea of why loving the same gender would be bad. I just accepted it as a fact of life, just as I accepted it as a fact of life that eventually I would fall in love and marry a man, etc.

It was to the point where I kind of just… didn’t realize gay people existed. Hell, I didn’t even know there was gay media. I was just straight-up oblivious. But that fun fact aside, my complete disconnect from the existence of gay people meant that, if the topic came up, I probably would have made some highly ignorant comments.

((Side note, I barely realized heterosexual people existed - I didn’t realize that people were having sex in my high school until I was a senior!))

At the same time, I was a highly prideful individual. I know for a fact that if someone, especially some stranger I don’t know, confronted me in anger, calling me homophobic and a terrible person for some of the things I blithely said, young-teen-me would have drawn myself up to save face. I would have gotten offended, angry, and discredited whoever it was. After all, why would I believe some internet stranger over my environment - over myself and my experiences?

If someone had attacked me for my ignorance and these beliefs born of complete ignorance, I know for a fact that I would have ended up more firmly aligning myself with those beliefs. I would have felt the need to stand my ground, partially to protect my self-esteem, partially because as someone who looked down on emotion (I could write a book on my past self;;), I would not have wanted to be associated with a group of people that were so angry. 

So, now that I am older and have moved beyond that, now that I know better, I approach these kind of issues in a way that I know my past self would have been more receptive to. I don’t get angry, and I don’t try to enforce my own ideas on other people. Instead, I offer more information. I trust the other party to be a strong thinker in their own right, and then I offer them a choice that might not have been available to them before.

As a young teen, I had no option to accept gay people, when I had no concept of their existence and the vague ‘fact’ that it was a ‘dirty’ or ‘sinful’ thing to be gay. I had no option to accept the idea that people should be able to love who they love when my belief on romantic love was that you just choose the best option available to you once you’re ready to marry (aroace, woo, fun times).

But I was a headstrong teenager, overconfident and smart enough to sound impressive, so if anyone attacked my character or intelligence over my homophobia, I would have felt the need to assert my autonomy over myself. Telling me what to think? Telling me how to behave? That would have been unconscionable. My indignation and anger would have kept me from ever trying to learn more about the topic.

If, instead, someone gave me an option - just made the topic of being gay something more normalized in my life, gave me more historic sources (either of cultures where same-sex relationships were accepted or records of the horrors the LGBTQ community suffered), and just gave me more information to reform my beliefs on my own, I would have been more likely to change my views.

Looking back now, that’s exactly what happened. The way it happened, however, is also something a lot of people might not have agreed with. What brought the concept of ‘gay people’ into my sphere of awareness was in fact a friend’s interest in BL content. My desire to support and share in her interests, along with a natural curiosity and interest in storytelling, led me to read a number of BL manga. I never got into the BL community because I didn’t experience it the same way they did - as a sex-repulsed asexual, I wasn’t reading it for sexual gratification, so I couldn’t relate to their titillation. Even so, because I never do things by halves, as a teenager, I continue reading BL as a hobby.

Some, of course, was blatant fetishization, and I am now embarrassed that I have ever read those. Actually, I’m embarrassed about this period in my life in general, for various reasons, but I’m sharing the story! Just for you, Anon! 

In any case, some was blatant fetishization, but I did also encounter some actually well-written stories with emotional stake. Now, I’m not saying this is in any way ideal, but it was these stories that exposed me to the idea of social rejection, fear of being disowned, etc. due to homophobia. 

These particular themes struck a chord with me, because even though I had just accepted the idea that I was going to marry someone and have children, etc. I also had a vague awareness that I didn’t want to. In Korean society, and with my grandmother, I did have an ingrained fear that I may be somehow rejected by my family should I ever not want to go to any of my grandmother’s blind dates for me and such. 

Sometimes in high school, when I answered that I didn’t have an interest in dating, family members would accuse me of being a lesbian in a tone of near disgust. Prior to reading the BL stories, I likely would have been offended by the accusation. After reading the BL stories and reading about situations where people got cut off for being gay, I was more hurt by the idea that if I was actually gay myself, I likely would have been rejected. It better helped me to better understand and empathize with some struggles that LGBTQ persons may go through in their lives.

This empathy led me to be more open to reading about the LGBTQ community, and it helped me to better control my surprise when I found out some of my friends were bisexual or had kissed girls, and it was a gateway to more information, with which I have shaped my current beliefs and moral code.

This is another reason that I don’t really engage in Tumblr’s moral crusades. I’m of the firm belief that people grow given the chance, and that growth is shaped by three things: information, support, and choice. In this example, my ‘information’ came from places that the more morally aggressive side of Tumblr would consider irredeemable: BL media. 

I’ve written a post or two on the topic in the past, so my followers already know that I disapprove of the fetishization often inherent in this kind of media. However, I simultaneously cannot bring myself to bring myself to just tell people, “Hey, you shouldn’t read BL,” because it would not have worked on me, personally, and also because my experience reading BL actually contributed to the who I am in present day.

Let’s create an Alternate Universe - remove this source of ‘information’ from my formative years. I had no opportunity to empathize with an example of emotional rejection. Due to living in South Korea with a limited social circle, attending a Christian school, I have limited opportunity to meet actual gay people. Instead, as I grow up, my increasingly evident disinterest in guys leads to more disgusted/concerned accusations from family members that I’m a lesbian, which I react to poorly because I am both repulsed by the idea of a romantic relationship and also because I have been told all my life that being gay is something undesirable.

I eventually make a homophobic comment, because I start to associate the concept ‘lesbian’ with my personal revulsion. In response, someone calls me a terrible person, irredeemable, etc. and challenges my moral character, something AU me has a high opinion of. Insulted, I feel the need to defend my position because, psychologically, it is easier to decide that other people are wrong than admit that I am wrong.

The new ‘information’ available to me is that people who support gay people are ‘overly-emotional’ and will attack a person’s character without knowing who they are. Perhaps I receive a death threat or they tell me that people like me are better off dead. Then the new ‘information’ available to me is that people who support gay people are potentially dangerous.

As an upset teenager, in this AU, I speak to my family about this. Due to some ingrained homophobic beliefs themselves, they validate my experience. Some of them might tell me that people who support gay people are “just as bad as gays themselves.” My mother, especially, is furious about the death threat. She tells me that I’m smarter than they’ll ever be, how dare some stranger say that. Is it possible to report them to the police? I tell her, no, that’s not possible, mom, it’s the internet and also they’re probably in a different country.

This is AU me’s ‘support’. It reinforces the ‘information’ that I received, and it makes it more difficult for me to accept conflicting information in the future. Online, I may encounter other individuals who have received hate and or death threats for their homophobic beliefs, and I connect with them. We commiserate. This is more ‘support’ which makes it even harder for me to change my mind in the future.

And throughout this whole series of events, AU-me feels that she is in control of her own actions. She didn’t ‘give into’ the people trying to force her to change. She is proud of who she is, and she feels confident in her autonomy of herself. Due to basic psychology, she feels that her choice is the right one, and she instinctively seeks out biased evidence that confirms her beliefs.

Flash forward to AU age 22, I would be a completely different person to who I am today. I would not have the friends that I do. I would not be on Tumblr writing this post. My moral code and personal beliefs could be completely different.

So then, here’s a philosophical question: Does the very real possibility that I could have become an elitist, sexist homophobe make me a bad person?

There are some people who believe that people who are morally good will always end up where they are. I am not one of those people. I consider myself blessed that I met the people I did and had the experiences that I did. I am grateful that certain hardships in my life gave me time and reason to sit down and think about the kind of person that I want to be.

Due to the information that I was lucky enough to encounter and the support I was able to find, I was able to make the decision to commit to being an open-minded person. 

Of course, I recognize that my experience is unique to myself. It is very possible that someone else, in my aforementioned example, would have ended up homophobic in a different way - fetishizing gay people, applying BL fantasies to real life people, etc. - but in my case, that wasn’t so. And that’s the issue. You can’t accurately predict people’s trajectory of growth upon exposure to controversial topics and or media. However, it’s almost certainly guaranteed that anger and threats will be poorly received, and likely counter-productive. 

I believe that people are a product of their experiences. There have been a lot of kind people in my life, such as yourself Anon, who have told me that they respect my approach to situations or my philosophy on life or how I conduct myself, etc.

Ultimately, it is just that I am a product of my own unique set of experiences, and those experiences encompass both circumstances and mistakes. Upon coming to college and spending time away from my family, I really started committing to my self-betterment. I spent a lot of time thinking about my beliefs and the kind of person who I want to be. I took courses in Conflict Negotiation and Social Psychology because they were important to me. 

Right now, I am still learning, and I’m still trying. I’m really, really happy that I can be someone others find helpful for their own personal growth.

With that being said:

So, Anon, your question was, “I was just wondering how you do it? Like, what do you tell yourself, when you feel angry about someone else’s opinion, but want to remind yourself that they’re entitled to it?“

It’s not necessarily that I believe someone is entitled to their beliefs. There are some beliefs that I find dangerous, and I do not believe any person should have them. However, before I get angry, I think about my own experience as a person with less-than-stellar beliefs, and I think about what kind of approach would have best worked with me.

In my experience, the elements that contribute to a person’s opinions on something are the following: information, support, and choice.

So, things to keep in mind:

Every person uses the information available to them and the support system attached to that information to make, what they believe to be, an informed choice. People always believe in things and behave in a manner that makes logical sense to them, and that is important to remember.

Choice is the most important element of the three. The psychology of autonomy, especially in highly individualistic societies such as the United States, is incredibly powerful. Even if someone changes their behavior because someone else tells them to, they may later on start to resent both the behavior and the person that forced them. Ultimately, if you want someone to really change, you have to let them come to a different conclusion on their own. 

So, how do you change someone’s mind? Give them information and let them know that should they desire to change, they have your support. If someone is ignorant about something, rather than condemning them for it, it is most effective to present information in a neutral manner. Give them the option to learn, and let them choose the option for themselves. And, should they want to learn more about a certain perspective, offer your availability and aid. Allow them to make their own mistakes and learn from their own mistakes. Act as a guide they can choose to follow rather than trying to push them down a certain path. This is the approach Daryl Davis took towards the KKK, to great success.

That being said, I realize that this is a best case scenario. It is incredibly time-consuming, and it is for many people emotionally taxing. This method is not for everyone, and part of the reason I stick to it is because I recognize that I am one of few people who have the patience and the temperament to carry it out, and I believe that it is a necessary method in this world. However, I recognize that it is unfair to expect people with great emotional investment in a topic to just swallow their feelings and bear with it. Sometimes, certain topics are deeply upsetting to individual people. Especially in these cases, I recognize that it is highly difficult for people to take on such a goal-oriented approach. 

I am additionally committed to my approach because I know that there are some people who will be receptive to it, but not everyone can make use of it. As such, many people I know in my life ask for me to mediate conflicts or help them figure out how to change someone’s mind. I am an ally to many causes by being this more neutral, more open-minded person. I have received criticism for this before, that there’s no point trying to change bigots’ minds or that there’s no arguing with certain people. However, as someone who acknowledges that she could have become someone completely different (someone who thought poverty was the fault of the poor, that sexual assault is fault of the victim, that being gay was an abnormality, etc.) I know for a fact that people, especially younger people, can change their minds, given the opportunity.

However, like I said, this method is time-consuming and emotionally taxing. And as much as I want to help people, I also have an obligation to myself. So, part of the reason I avoid toxicity and passive-aggression or fan/anti debates is because I’m… I’m on Tumblr for fun. For a good time. Why would I willingly throw myself into more trouble when I can avoid it? The thing is, I already know that I can’t change everyone’s mind, so it doesn’t matter if I don’t go in and engage every single person on Tumblr whose opinions I disagree with. Instead, sometimes I’ll get Anons who ask my opinion on certain topics, and I can make a long post like this one. People interested in the topic will then read and reblog it, and it will eventually reach a wider audience. The thing about my approach is, I can’t please anyone on any one side. I have people who disagree with me on both sides… but, unlike other approaches, I also have people who agree with me on both sides. In any case, I’m on Tumblr for fun, and I don’t have a responsibility to anyone but my own followers.

That is also why I try to keep my Tumblr free of discourse, for the most part. Not everyone can handle emotionally charged controversy, and not everyone can easily ignore it if it just shows up on their dash. Although I try to tag everything so people can opt in and out of content, I also want my blog to be mostly a fun and friendly place for people where they can occasionally learn things. There are enough sources of stress in the world. I hope I’m never one of them. ((On occasion I will reblog a post which involves my political beliefs, but that is because I feel that, in this case, given the current US political climate, I would feel personally uncomfortable if I didn’t make my personal alignment known.))

Also, it’s important to note: If you’re engaging in dialogue and trying to change someone’s mind on a topic without thinking about how to succeed at it, at heart, changing their mind may not be your ultimate goal. Often times, a lot of Tumblr controversy comes, not from a place of wanting positive change, but wanting emotional gratification. Sending angry messages on the internet may feel good in the moment, but it often drags you into a frustrating argument that leads nowhere. It also will not have a long-term positive effect. Having the moral high ground in a situation can feel fantastic, and I’ve been there - but again, it doesn’t actually enact positive change. It just creates a survival-of-the-fittest environment for negativity. You’ll chase away the people who have room to grow, and only the loudest, most stubborn, most arrogant people will remain. 

Further, getting angry at people’s opinions on the internet creates an environment where it’s terrifying to make mistakes. On the internet, it’s impossible to tell someone’s age and or circumstances. A lot of people on Tumblr are kids, and they may or may not be lying about their ages to seem older. Think about parenting, and how criticizing small mistakes in behavior can lead to a long-term fear of making mistakes. Life is all about making mistakes and learning from them. Creating a system where one mistake can haunt you for the rest of your life is counter-productive to personal growth, and that’s what a lot of Tumblr controversy seems to be.

Actually, now that I’ve written all that, I just realized something I should have mentioned in the very beginning: I am not someone interested in changing the world. I’m not even interested in enacting social change. That’s far, far, far to broad a scope for me. There are some people built for such positions, and they seek to enter politics or start grassroot fundraisers, etc. I am not such a person.

Instead, I hope to become someone who can be a positive source of change for individuals. I don’t want to change the world or society, but I hope to be someone who can change one person’s worldview. An act of kindness for to a person who has lost hope. Someone who can translate languages and bridge cultures for individual people. Someone who can inspire someone to commit to their own self-development. 

To this day, I consider learning that I inspired someone to learn a new subject or pursue a new career path my greatest achievements. Few things delight me more.

I want to be a writer, and if the book that I publish can make a positive impact on just one reader, I will consider that book successful. That story would have been one worth telling.

There are some people who can make a goal to change the world and make it happen. I find that far too grand a dream for me. I lack the motivation for it, the strength of will for it, the vision for it. However, engaging with people one at a time, I can manage. So, there really is no reason for me to engage in Tumblr discourse. If someone comes to me directly, I can work with that. I can talk with someone one-on-one, and who knows, maybe I will come out the person changed. But that’s a personable scale, and it’s a level that I can comprehend.

I cannot change the world itself, but I can change the world for one person.

I don’t know if this was the answer you wanted, Anon, and I’m sorry it’s so long, ahaha. Ultimately, my advice to you is, decide what kind of person you want to be, and work towards it. This isn’t about achievements or careers, etc. - those are external things that label you. Who do you want to be? What kind of impact do you want to have on others? What kind of impression do you want to leave? And all the while, what role in life are you comfortable with on a physical, emotional, and ethical level?

After you figure that out, think about how you can become that person. The thing is, you never will, not completely, but you can improve yourself month by month and get a little closer, and every step closer to being that person is a victory. 

Most people in the world never take the time to think about it, so by taking the time to do so, Anon, you’ll already be a step ahead. 

..... I feel like after all that, I didn’t actually... answer the question very clearly. I’m sorry;; I hope you got something out of this ridiculous response, Anon;;;;

#Anonymous #sableaire #discourse #mistakes #personal growth #character development #advice #sableask #philosophy #personal philosophy

[bloojayoolie]

Advice, Ali, and Bad: When you want to show off your marks from knife play but don't think that would do When you realize a bunch of people here have similar kinks as you, but then realize that everyone here seems to be playing online and/or monogamous and you're a poly sub that needs physical contact. redd it When the friend that just played you twice in one night at the dungeon opens group brainstorming on mean things to do to you. iredd i well K. ireddt 344 ubmitted 2 months ar d 40 Flufty | Fuckable NSFW 19 comments share save hide give award report crosspost Submitted 2 months ago by 40 Flutffy Fuckable NSFW 25 comments share save hide give award report crosspost Fuckable N5EW 78 comments share save hide aive award report crosspost JUNE I-g d 40 Fluffy | Fuckable S. 47 points 2 months ago I got flogged on a St. Andrew's Cross and then she and another friend did wax play on me while I was blindfolded and she cut it off with a knife... And d 23 points 2 months ago 40| Fluty | Fuckable S while I was dropping and sleepy she started brainstorming "What other I can't wear my bra because itchy healing lines! It kinda feels like I'm hiding a secret... mean things can I do to Allie?" So far... Needles, sounding, fire play, blood cupping (maybe), orgasm torture (not denial), and Ummm insertions and strapon play. I have to clear some of this with my polycule. So far they all approve. t 17 points 2 months ago 40 Fluffy Fuckable Wtf is "knife play"? turns out I had an audience... I don't mind. Also H g 40 Flufty Fuckable 32 points 2 months ago Bdsm/kink play where one person takes a blade and drags it over your skin, with or without cutting. 3 points 2 months ago That... sounds really hot, except for the needles (whee, phobia). As Without cutting it can be fear play, predicament bondage, or sensation play. You can actually leave welts without drawing blood if you have a sharp enough knife. With cutting all of that still applies, but add blood and pain. long as its all safe. Although, what is blood cupping? 50 points 3 months ago HX x I'm a masochist, so I have long shallow cuts across my chest. H 401 Flufty | Fuckable 22 points 2 months ago When you've been single for over a year and the only physical contact you get is from your dogs :( Small incisions and then cupping over them to pull out blood by vacuum. In this case she wants to do that and then flog me while I'm sensitized by it. This is on the 'maybe' list because blood is a soft limit (almost a hard limit) for me normally, but I trust her. -frustrates sub sounds- When you miss having a dominant irl but are scared to even look for one due to how it ended last time. reddit Submitted 4 months ago by NSFW 11 comments share save hide give award report crosspost permalnk save report give award reply H 7 30 points 3 months ago just make sure not to cum on your cats ed 40 | Flufty | Fuckable permaink save parent report give award reply HM 18 points 2 months ago permalink save parent report gve award reply Ah. That sounds really intense and painful. All of this hot BDSM is more things I'd probably enjoy watching. I think wax play is about as painful as I like. 24 points 3 months ago Lots of cat qirls around here looking to get cummed on . - Lyra/Kitten/Mommy slut for ur juices HRT started 2019-1-11 4 points d 40 | Flufty | Fuckable 17 points 2 months ago I'm... Not a pain slut, but I'm a bit of a masochist... ed 40 Flufty Fuckable 11 points 2 months ago Needles came up because I really want to get my nipples pierced be willing to traln dd What I do with my pussy none of your concern and she thinks her ple And she loves marking people but scars are a hard limit for me HA Knife play is yes please, but cutting is a 'no'. It's a very fine line. (ao) HJ a 3 points 2 months ago 2.1 point 3 months ago HS Hey we got the same name (though mine spelled "Ali"). Represent I don't even have a dog to get physical contact from. permalink save parent report give award reply d 40 | Fluffy Fuckable 3 points 2 months ago It's short for Allison! :) HA n 27 points 3 months ago Poly switch transbian cuddleslut here We exist I swear. m 8 points 2 months ago H f just want to hug all the catgirls 14 points 3 months ago t H My gods, that sounds like a hell of an evening. I love seeing other keen Poly switch transbian cuddleslut doms, it makes me up my game. She does sound veeeery keen! Am glad to hear your going to have fun! t mel Hey, a e Sometimes female, sometimes enby, always kinky 5 points 3 months ago d 40 Fluty | Fuckable S. 18 points 2 months ago H There's a few of us I'm still floating a bit, 2 days later. We need to do negotiation some. She can't own me (my polycule would lose it and I love them) and that makes things a little odd. We're not romantic either. We're good friends and her alpha primal resonates wildly with my pet and prey drives. H No - LyraKitten/Mommy slut for ur juices | HRT started 2019-1-11 4 points 20 points 4 months ago Subby Introverted Kitten permalink save parent report gve award reply me too thanks (except inm actually bi not lesbian but bi culture is just I'm so sorry.... I'm sure you will find someone that will take good care of you! saying gay/les to fit in easier) t HH n I get that, sometimes a partner just clicks! Hope the comedown wasn't too hard on you. The solution I've found worked with my cule is having playmate status with folks, sort of commitment but only in a playtime sense (and the emotional responsibility with it.) 1 points 2 months ago pemalink save report give award reply pemmalnk save parent report give award reply d. 40 | Fluffy Fuckable 0 points 4 months ago H Le ph 3 points 3 months ago I feel silly and selfish because I have romantic partners, but my D/s aspects are a large part of who I am. Hell, I'm still with my old dominant on a non D/s basis. Clone, get back in containment! Basically, her PTSD and emotional issues got on top of her over the summer and instead of dealing with it she ended up abusing me pretty heavily ending with a breach of trust that left me dissociative and feeling 40 | Fluffy | Fuckable S-12 points 2 months ago ed worthless. .9 points 3 months ago Mine is complicated for two reasons: 7 months later I'm still not sexual with any of my rl partners really and I miss sub space and that feeling of belonging... And I don't even know how to go about looking for someone as a poly transbian even though I Poly Domme lesbian here we are a thing lol I have 3 partners I live with One used to be my domme, but couldn't handle the the kink community. am active 5 points 3 months ago responsibility it entailed. permairk save parent repart gnve award reply Another I'm still working out dynamics with because both of us are sub bottoms (different types) and neither of us pursue. Yes hello. If it's your girl friend who you have had for years. Do the sex at me a Subby Introverted Kitten 10 points 4 months ago C again as we commonly do. I'm so sorry.... don't feel bad. It's not silly or selfish to miss being a part of who you are... finding a new dom, I have no experience so I don't know how to help... as for permalink save parent report give award reply Things are cleared now with all but that last and I'll talk to her tonight or tomorrow. k 6 points 3 months ago Hs What 401 Fluffy | Fuckable nalun 12 points 4 months ago d n 7 points 2 months ago Oh, I dont Just needed to say something... I think the wives are tired of me having emotional breakdow can see how the history could make things complex, I'm . glad it's all been okayed with two of them, let's hope for H Je a 5 points 3 months ago the third! Then go have some fun. :P same here except sub! e Subby Introverted Kitten 6 points 4 months ago HC Hey... You can't control your emotions, if they don't want to help you through them then maybe they don't deserve you... ed 40I Flufty | Fuckable 11 points 2 months Fun either way. Just mooooooore fun with approval. Insertions and orgasm torture need approval and well... Being strapped to a table with a Hitachi bound against me and getting tortured sounds like heaven. pemalink save parent report gve award reply j 4 25 MTF, mega submissive, has a cuddle kink 6 points 3 months ago 40 | Flufty I Fuckable S6 points 4 months ago H9 Poly people unite <3 cross while filled, I have 3 partners. 1 is trans. 2 are cis female. We all live together. All, including me, suffered emotional or physical abuse when younger. They support me. They care. But if all we did was discuss our emotional issues we'd never get to the bottom of them and we still wouldn't be 'fixed' in any way. I could tell any of them that I need to cry at them and they'd be happy to listen and comfort me. It would also add to their emotional burden at a time when we've all been on the edge of breaking down. It's been a rough 2 months Not my best picture, but I dyed a huge black stripe in my hair last night and couldn the over conditioning to go away before sharing >.< (redd.it) submitted 4 munds bide give award report crosspost 5 comments sha n4 points 2 months ago HH That sounds like a lot of fun, you've given me some ideas too... My own 'cule may have say thank you at some point. here. o come pemaink save parent repart grve award reply 2 points 4 months ago I'm sure they all still love you and care about what you are going through. How elser are you supposed to fix your emotional issues if you don't talk to someone about e Subby Introverted Kiten d 40 Fluffy | Fuckable 4 points 2 :) if you want to bounce thoughts or anything feel free to pm. them... HM Oh gosh that pic hits hard... Feels like when I try to sub my emotions take over and as much as I crave it I end up bawling and scared at the slightest punishment even though I love my Dom.. He k 2 points 2 months ago Hey, little off topic and feel free to decline to answer. A few months ago I started dating two wonderful girls, and there has been talk of moving in togetherelationship, and I'm urious looking to r When you lost count at 10 already but your partner goes "congratulations, you're multi-orgasmic" and you realize she's nowhere near done yet. Submitted 3 months ago by - NSFW 56 comments share save hide give award report crosspost future b y ts 561 are going to work, is there any advice you can offer? d 40 | Fluffy | Fuckable permalink save parent report give award reply 40| Flufty 4 points 2 months Fuckable It really depends on you. We all share a bedroom. Two beds. We've had them pushed together at times for cuddle piles but right now they're separate for the convenience of a walk way. Then all our clothes go in our offices because there's no room for dressers in the bedroom pemaink save parent report give award reply 2 points 2 months ago Thank you, that's a great help. I was thinking two beds might be the answer myself but then I got in my own head about if I was just being insane... I'm sure we'll make it all make sense when it comes to it. 40 Fluffy Fuckable 2 points 2 H9 I lost count but... Gods.. gonna pass back out now.... d 40 | Flufty | Fuckable 151 points 3 months ago was near tears and too tired to scream anymore and just.. Unnnnnnnnffffff... I'm I'm starting to actually like my hair these days (40yo, 22months hrt) hotted d months 00 by ge When we had three, a California King bed worked, but someone always got stuck in the middle and overheated (usually m comment share save hide give award report crasspost permalink save parent report give award reply e 67 points 3 months ago HP it or was it after an op or anything? Holy fuck, NICE. Did you work up k 2 points 2 months ago tHe Yeah, trapping someone in the middle was also playing on my mind, constantly like 'what if they're too hot' 'what if they need to pee in the middle of the night what if they toss and turn'... I guess I just need to stop overthinking it and go permaink save parent repart grve award reply d 40| Flufty | Fuckable S 149 points 3 months ago Does not having sex for several months due to emotional instability and stress count as working up to it? I'm non-op, so no operation involved. I've been able to hit 2-5 with a lot of luck and work since about 6 months in. Mostly luck. with the flow? Tonight, my partner told me she was stone butch for the evening and I wasn't allowed to touch in response, then basically played me like a piano with the magic wand and toys and wouldn't let me orgasm for awhile. Then she ramped things up and up while still backing off every time I got close until I was basically just a needy puddle... then hit my switches all at once and wouldn't stop for a bit even when I was begging. By then I was hypersensitive and she let me calm down for just a minute and - 40 | Fluffy | Fuckable s 2 points 2 months ago Yeah.... You usually figure out what you need. Two beds with the then began teasing and realized I was still going, so she started very gentle and then kept ramping up on different places and backing off again. walkway is nice. Sometimes I miss. the huge cuddle pile while sleeping but not overheating and being able to go pee are pretty awesome Favorite memory tonight *after I suddenly came again without any idea why and sort of lost a few seconds*: permaink save parent repart gve award reply Her: "You are such a girl." Me: "What?" Her: "You just came because I told you I love you."Me: "Was that what you said?" Her: "Uh huh... and you looked really confused and went 'What the fu-" and came again." Me: "I love you too..." Also: "Oh god no stop what are you doing' isn't your safe word so I'm gonna keep going." The sexual revolution and its consequences have been a disaster for the human race.

#funny #lol #humor #memes #meme #memehumor #dank memes #funny pics #rolf #lmao #Advice #Ali #and Bad:

[anearthlycomfort]

BIPOLAR MASTERPOST

Chart Explained: 

All mental conditions, illnesses and neurodivergence affect people in different ways. This, of course, includes and applies to Bipolar Disorder! Let me start by telling you that, no, bipolar is not just a fancy way to say, “moody,” or, “crazy.” Bipolar Disorder and Bipolar Depression are mental illnesses that impact individuals to the same extent that anxiety or depression can, and deserve the same respect and validation as any other condition. 

A brief summary is simple enough to understand. The individual affected feels things in only extremes. There is often no middle ground. The first type, the blue line on the graph, is the most common form of Bipolar Disorder. This type includes a very clear pattern of benders; a steady build up to a rapid high, followed by a steady spiral into a depressing low. These highs and lows, the extremes, can affect people in few or many aspects of their lives. Their self esteem, self image, diet, sleep patterns, degree of human interaction, intro/extravertedness, focus and productiveness. A low typically includes a crippling lack of motivation for everything; relationships, school, work, living. A high, though seemingly a good thing, can be just as harmful. A high is a dangerous level of happy invincibility that often includes the same amount of carelessness and recklessness as a low, comparable to the high of a drug. People with type one typically need to wait out their moods because they are so steady and patterned that outside forces cannot get through to them. However, unlike type two, people with type one spend more time wading through that “middle ground” as they come out of/enter new benders. 

People with type two, the red line, rarely, if ever, experience middle ground, or, “reasonable emotional reactions,” and their benders are more erratic. There isn’t a definite pattern, but steep drop offs into lows and highs, lasting weeks or months at a time. Type two also allows for more outside influence and tiny fluctuations within highs and lows. 

Again, this is not a strict diagnosis of all people with BD, because mental illness affects everyone differently and those who do have type one and type two can possess each to varying degrees.

With that being said, I’ve created this blog because the other admins and I haven’t seen many ((any)) bipolar-specific blogs as of yet and everyone deserves a community! So welcome! The chart above is to help you understand yourselves or your friends, family members or acquaintances who may have Bipolar Disorder or Bipolar Depression. Asks are always open, so feel free to plot yourself on either of the lines with any questions about things you can do to console, comfort or ground yourself throughout your bender or middle ground. Ask for friends too and we will do the best we can to help. However, keep in mind that while all of us have experience counseling, we do not have degrees and it is important to talk to someone you know or consult a professional if you are worried for your well-being. Thanks for reading, and I hope that we can help you in any way you need!  

Meet the Admins:

Hello! My name is Sarah and I have professionally diagnosed ((and medicated)) type two bipolar disorder and bipolar depression. I’m currently attending college in pursuit of a Communications degree and I live in Washington State! Idk what else to say haha I’m half Korean and love dogs! I can answer any questions you have about mental illnesses, medications, traumas and other queries of any personal nature. Feel free to message me privately on other blogs too!

@cancerousminds @the-child-of-venus

Hey y’all, my name’s Norma and I have professionally diagnosed depression, social anxiety and obsessive compulsive disorder. I live in Iowa and am currently saving up to get a plane ticket back to Egypt. If you have any questions or need any advice on literally anything, talk to me. I can’t promise I’ll know exactly what to say but I can promise that I will try my best to help you. If you want to talk privately, my personal tumblr is:

@icantdefeatrain 

Hey friends! My name is Jupiter, I’m transmasculine and go by the pronouns he/him. I am a self-diagnosed autistic and under-the-table diagnosed general anxiety. I’m a Washingtonian just trying to find my footing and rooming with Sarah. I can answer anything to do with autism, anxiety, depression and gender identity. I can also give my two cents on bipolar moods as a side effect of other mental illness, but not the diagnosis. For that, Sarah’s your girl! Here are my other blogs you can check out:

@stellarmads @paintingautie

Helpful/supporting sites and hotlines:

NAMI: National Alliance on Mental Illness

Get Immediate Help!

The Trevor Project

Adolescent Suicide Hotline [phone]

Adolescent Crisis Intervention & Counseling Nineline 1-800-999-9999

AIDS National Hotline [phone]

CHADD-Children & Adults with Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder 1-800-233-4050

Child Abuse Hotline 800-4-A-CHILD

Cocaine Help Line 1-800-COCAINE (1-800-262-2463)

Domestic Violence Hotline [phone]

Domestic Violence Hotline/Child Abuse 1-800-4-A-CHILD (800 422 4453)

Drug & Alcohol Treatment Hotline 800-662-HELP

Ecstasy Addiction 1-800-468-6933

Eating Disorders Center 1-888-236-1188

Family Violence Prevention Center 1-800-313-1310

Gay & Lesbian National Hotline 1-888-THE-GLNH (1-888-843-4564)

Gay & Lesbian Trevor HelpLine Suicide Prevention 1-800-850-8078

Healing Woman Foundation (Abuse) 1-800-477-4111

Help Finding a Therapist 1-800-THERAPIST (1-800-843-7274)

Incest Awareness Foundation 1-888 -547-3222

Learning Disabilities - (National Center For) 1-888-575-7373

Missing & Exploited Children Hotline [phone]

National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) 1-800-950-NAMI (6264)

Panic Disorder Information Hotline 800- 64-PANIC

Post Abortion Trauma 1-800-593-2273

Project Inform HIV/AIDS Treatment Hotline [phone]

Rape (People Against Rape) 1-800-877-7252

Rape, Abuse, Incest, National Network (RAINN) 1-800-656-HOPE (1-800-656-4673)

Runaway Hotline [phone]

Self-Injury (Information only) (NOT a crisis line. Info and referrals only) 1-800-DONT CUT (1-800-366-8288)

Sexual Assault Hotline [phone]

Sexual Abuse - Stop It Now! 1-888-PREVENT

STD Hotline [phone]

Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-TALK

Suicide & Crisis Hotline [phone]

Suicide Prevention - The Trevor HelpLine (Specializing in gay and lesbian youth suicide prevention). 1-800-850-8078

IMAlive-online crisis chat

Teen Helpline 1-800-400-0900

Victim Center 1-800-FYI-CALL (1-800-394-2255)

Youth Crisis Hotline 800-HIT-HOME

#mental health #mental illness #mental disorder #neurodivergent #bipolar #depression #anxiety #dysphoria #abuse #suicide #help #prevention

[ajadelight]

Cell Phone Affair - Part Two

Amanda left the bus stop laughing to herself about John’s reaction. She made her way through the park, rounded a corner and saw a line of people waiting for service from a food vendor. Art’s Breakfast Bagels - Your Way, his sign announced. She danced her way along the line until she caught the attention of a fabulous dress woman. She stopped and looked at her with sad eyes.    “What’s your problem?” the woman asked.    “Hunger for one. It’s been two days since I ate last. Other than that, some jerk stole my cell phone and I need to call my sister to get picked up for a party tomorrow. I always attend family parties, even if they don’t like me. At least they feed me well.”    The woman frowned and shook her head. “I swear! Don’t they teach you anything at school? Did you graduate?”    “Yes, but I don’t know what you’re talking about. Would you be kind and let me use your cell phone. I promise I won’t run away with it.”    “You want a sandwich also?”    “That would be nice, but I won’t bother you about that. I’ll find something later or hit the free soup kitchen for lunch.”    The woman groaned and got her cell phone from her purse. She handed it to her and then hooked a finger in a belt loop of her jeans.    “It might break, but it will slow you down enough for me to grab you and knock a knot on your head.”    Amanda gave her a huge smile. “Cool.”    She dialed a number and waited. “Hey, Susan. Sorry I had to use someone else’s phone. Mine got stolen. What do I want? I want to see you on Saturday at noon at the water fountain in Walton Park. Why? Because you’re a coward and I’m tired of it all. You’re a great woman to sleep with, but enough is enough. If you don’t show and discuss it with me, I’m going to the Walton Post and come out of the closet and drag you with me. Maybe you’re joking about what you’re doing, but I’m not. I’m serious and you’re hurting me by treating me like a piece of shit. So, be there at noon on Saturday or prepare for exposure in the papers! It’s not right for you to play with my feelings and emotions and think you can walk all over me. You spend 6 months being intimate with me and now you want to be my friend and say it’s all my mistakes for loving you? Yes. I said noon on Saturday at the fountain in Walton Park. You’d better keep that date, woman! I love kissing your ass, but this time I’ll kick it and kick it good! Goodbye.”    She disconnected the call and handed the phone back to the woman. “Thanks. That was mighty kind of you. You have a wonderful day now.”    “Whoa! Are you okay? What the hell was that? Was that your sister or some other family member?”    Amanda frowned. “No. I wouldn’t be doing no lesbian love with a family member. That was Susan. She came on to me and I tried it once and found I like it and I liked her. For 6 sweet months, it was bliss and she kept insinuating and hinting that she wanted a very long-term relationship. I opted to accept because the love and everything with her was so real. Then wham. She’s out of my life and it’s my fault, but she can’t tell me why? All I did was love her. Bitch.”    “In that case, I agree with you. But why my cell phone? Oh, I get it. If you used yours, she’d never answer. Bitch. I hope she calls me back. I’ll add my icing for her cake and grind it in her face. You might be down-and-out, but you’re attractive and you’ve got a good heart and personality. You probably deserve better than her, but I’ll let you make up your own mind on that. And you have a good day also.”    “I will now. Thanks. Will you come to the park on Saturday at noon to support me?”    “I’ll be there. I’ll rearrange everything to get there and help you. She has me riled up now.”

   Amanda walked away, nibbling on an Everything Bagel with cream cheese, compliments of Danielle, and feeling good. She came across a taxi stand and people were lined up, getting inside yellow cars like lemmings jumping off cliffs. She walked past them dancing and humming and stopping occasionally to play some guitar and bow for their applause.

   She approached the 7th person in line, a man wearing dress pants and a long-sleeved blue striped shirt with no tie.    She waited until he finished his call and put on her pitiful, helpless look and waved timidly. “Excuse me, sir. I’m down on my luck now. A wonderful angelic woman back the street bought me a bagel to calm my hungry stomach. Some jerk stole my cell phone and I need to make an important call. I know that look. It’s not important to you, but it is to me. I’m supposed to be in Rantoul in 30 minutes to babysit for a cousin who’s paying cash and I’m not going to make it. Unless you want to give me a ride and detour to Rantoul before you go to where you’re going. Where are you going?”    “To work. I work odd hours at the ice factory, like from 10 to 6 4 days a week and 12 hours on Saturday.”    “No rest for the weary and overburdened. So, will you give a ride or I could use your cell phone and let my cousin know I’m not going to make it.”    He looked her up and down and handed her his cell phone. “You might be down, but you look too good to ride with you in a taxi right now. Help yourself until it’s my turn.”    “Thanks, dude.” She pressed the last-call function, highlighted the number and pressed call.    “Hey, honey. What’s up with you today? Do you miss me that much?”    “Not really. Don’t tell me I got the wrong number again. You don’t sound familiar. Who is this?”    “This is Jean and you have the right number. It came up Clyde on the Caller ID. What are you doing with his phone?”    “Using it. That should be obvious without asking unless you’re a slow learner. Are you?”    “NO! Who are you?”    “I’m Amanda Collins. And you?”    “I’m Jean! I told you that already! What are you doing with my husband?”    “Oh, him. I’m probably doing the same thing that you’re doing, but I’m doing it a little, no, a whole lot better than you.”    “What?”    “You didn’t know that? Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who take life for granted. You know, like after you say, ‘I do,’ you can slack off and wear granny dresses and curlers to bed and everything is all paradise. I got news for you, honey. That’s not the way it works. You have any kids?”    “NO! And when I get my hands on you, you won’t ever have them either! Give him back the phone!”    “Not yet. I’m not done and it’s rude to try to end the conversation early.”    “You’re pissing me off, woman!”    “Oh well. I enjoy golden showers on occasion. Tell you what, meet me at the fountain in Walton Park at noon on Saturday and we’ll take turns pissing on each other while the cameras roll.”    “Give him the damned phone, woman! Now!”    “Or what? Do you know where I am? Do you know where your husband is? I do.”    “Give it to him.”    “Here? You want me to give it to him here?”    “What are you doing?” asked Clyde, finally stopping his gaze and daydream and paying attention.    “I don’t know, but this strange woman wants me to kiss you at a minimum, right here.”    She stepped close and kissed him without moving the phone. “Wow! You do kiss very well. That was so good, I’d like a repeat. Come on. We still have time before we reach the taxi platform.”    “What are you doing? I’ll kick your ass, bitch!” yelled Jean.    “Just got a couple of great kisses from Clyde. Wow! Got a little worked up on them. But thanks. I appreciate that opportunity.”    “You’re welcome,” Clyde said. “Who are you talking to?”    “I’m talking to some woman named Jean. Do you know her?”    “My wife? What are you doing, crazy woman?”    “I’m doing what she said to do. Here, ask her if you don’t believe me.    “Jean, what the hell are you doing? Did you tell her to kiss me?”    “Yes, I think, I said give it to him, or you, but I didn’t know it was really you. She’s confusing. Who the hell is she?”    “I don’t know. I’m waiting for a taxi to go to the train station and she just stopped out of nowhere.”    “Then put her on the damned phone again!”    “Hello? This is Amanda. What can I do for you?”    “Besides drop dead, what are you doing?”    “Enjoying some great phone sex. I think this is the foreplay part. Kind of kinky, but very exciting. What do I do next?”    “Get ready for a fight, bitch! Where do we meet?”    “At noon on Saturday by the fountain in Walton Park. Do you know where that is?”    “Yes, I know where that is?”    “But not where your husband is?”    “Stop it!”    “Sounds like you did a long time ago. That’s a shame. He has a lot to offer.”    “That does it! I’ll be at the park at noon and at 12:05, you will die!”    “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, like saying ‘I Do’ in a chapel or elsewhere and not holding yourself to it.”    “Tell me that after I hold your head under water for 10 minutes, waterlogged heathen bitch.”    “Yada-yada-yada,” said Amanda.    She handed Clyde the phone. “She hung up on me. I’ve never been that rude to anyone in my life. And she hung up on me. She lays into me with all those threats and it’s my fault? I don’t think so. Anyway, you’re up next. You have a great day and see if you can get Jean to enroll in Anger Management classes. It might improve your marriage.”    He slid the phone back in his coat pocket. “You’re fucking unreal! Do you know that? How can you do that to people? Why hasn’t someone killed you before now?”    She shrugged. “I don’t know. It must be my angel-like face and personality. Are you coming to the park with her on Saturday? One of us will be the kicked and one will be the kicker.”    “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, weird woman.”

#short story

[enjoyblacksurf-blog]

What a Time (Part Deux)

Dude, nobody actually knows what a dinosaur sounded like. Sit with that for a minute...

Good to hear from you and thanks for the kind words. What a total legend of you for dropping off your hearts and sharing our wares far and wide. That's how it works now, isn't it? This is how we communicate.

Have you noticed the long WhatsApp voice message is what all the kids are doing now? Long gone is actually talking to your mates! I'm well and truly down with it. You get to have a good, uninterrupted ramble, on your own time and really get your point across. On the flip side, you have to patiently listen to your mate’s rambles (some ain't got it down) and listen without butting in to share, correct or change the subject. It's good training for conversing with humans. Speak your mind and listen. It also takes actually talking to another human being out of the equation. This could be both sad and dis-connective and equally a blissful way of existing.

Aaaaaah yes I remember where we were...

The state of the world and rapidness of change, individually and collectively speaking. We're all getting zapped through a lifetime of technology and constant change. Look at music, for example. For thousands of years we couldn't record music. We then created records and we were pretty chuffed about that for around 50 years or so, yeah? Then we went through some kind of futuristic light speed music technology portal in the space of 20 years! Betamax, 8 Track, Cassette's, CD's, Laser Discs, Mini Discs, Blue... Bluuuue something? Torrents, MP3's, MP4's, JPEGs and PNGs. “Hey mate, can you send me over a vector of that?” WTF is a vector? Well, I actually know now ‘cos I had to send one, and I happily admit I thoroughly enjoyed telling a vector virgin to keep up with the times about a week later. The classic 'learn something yesterday and act like you've known it for decades and feel smug for a minute before you toy with telling the truth or letting them think you're more intelligent than you are'. Oh, it's a classic.

Wait...

No, we're talking about the uplift of humanity’s consciousness and how we are all playing a part in it's victorious evolution or it's inevitable demise. DUN DUN DUNNN. Hahaaa! Which side are you on?! That was it. I'm on track, it's all good. Loved what you we're saying about that, you crazy cat! You sound mad as a bottle of crisps, but I dig it.

Well, the spell we've all been under, up until now, has well and truly been lifted though, hasn't it? Everything’s all out there in the open right now getting exposed and brought to light. And that is BADASS! It’s rough, but’s it’s bad ass. Coming from the countryside where the general rule of thumb, is don't be Doctor Doom and bum everyone out. Don't bring anyone down with that talk of sadness, depression, anxiety or overwhelm, for god's sake. What will the neighbours think, lad.

The Emo's did try to warn us though, didn't they? Oh, we all laughed in their faces, behind those stupid haircuts. But, they were right. We are in fact emotional beings. They called it and touché. Emo's at least found music to express themselves while the rest of us suppressed our feelings like the proper lads and lasses that we are, and where's that got us? You and I have both have suffered in the past from not talking about shit. Aaaaaah jeeeeez. As you always say, what a time to be alive!

Y’know, thinking about it... When I ask my dad how he's doing, he sometimes says a confident and proud “Fantastic!”, followed by silence. Is he on top of the world or his he saying “Let's talk about something else.”? A bold and wise move I always think. No-one in their right mind should ever question a ‘Fantastic!’ delivered with such conviction and finesse. It's leaps and bounds above an 'Alright' or a 'Not bad', isn't it? It's a touchdown response in comparison. A power move by a seasoned veteran of suppressing and releasing emotions for decades. A man who once used to see the dreaded red mist and instantly react; now chilled, humble and zen.

When things are going good with friends and family, we'll know or hear about it, right? We'd hope, but you and I both know that isn't true, though, is it? We’ve all become masters of hiding our feelings and just cracking on with it. 'How are you doing?' That's one hell of an ask and also a mountain of pressure to release onto another human being for a brief conversation, d’you not think?

We’re not only protecting ourselves, but each other by not opening up sometimes. It's served us well for generations. Sort of. Hasn’t it?

Dude, the difference in the amount of knowledge of awareness, recovery, health and happiness we have access to now, in comparison to our parents generation; it's off the charts! The world has changed sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much in the last 20 years. Are you also noticing with this, a whole load of extra baggage full of anxiety and pressure has been assigned to everyone one of us?

Millennials are screwed unless they also start to connect to this lost natural flow of life itself. Rather than purely just #instatweetagramsnappabookface. Add to the mix that they most probably got whacked by emotional, psychological trauma growing up too, like the rest of us. Kids of 80's and 90's had it like a walk in the park in comparison. As long they dodged, evidently, all the kiddy fiddlers and slew of #meetoo’s that we’re apparently allowed to run amok?

I’m all for carrying on shining the light! Right now, we're doing a fantastic job of bringing every wrong'un, racist and rapist out in to the light for all to see, scrutinize and stone, publicly. Whether we have to herd the one's that had a regretful night and sent a sloppy unconscious tweet that ended their career and the Cosby's of the world in the same pen... I'm not so sure. This whole process is for the greater good, but it's messy trying to figure out the guidelines.

We're forced to instantly know our views, beliefs and morals with each case, instantly in real time. Let's look at the comics for a minute. Louie CK was outcasted and back after 9 months. 9 months out of the public for being a big weirdo. That's what you get for being weird. 9 months ban.

Carlo Mencia was notorious for stealing jokes and Joe Rogan stormed the stage and publicly shamed him at his own gig! OUCH. He's done.  Michael 'Kramer' Richards dropped the racist card and he was sheepishly back on network TV in no time, but it ain’t looking good.

Roseanne Barr, one sloppy tweet and her second career that was all set up and ready to go... Pffffffffft up in smoke. Brutal, confusing and maybe unfair but it's all for the greater good. We're thinning the herd. We're prepping for a better future to come where people will be more conscious. It's as simple as that and that's only a gooood thing!

The Civil Rights Act was in 64', right? Soon kids won't know what slavery was or even be able to comprehend it!

Hey man, I watched the Foo Fighters once and heard a a guy excitedly say to his little bro “You know, he used to be in Nirvana!” To which he turned up at his older brother and said “...in what?” I nearly died in that moment.

This time is sticky as, but if we truly know ourselves, our beliefs, thoughts, morals, dreams, goals and desires, It's gonna be one hell of a less sticky ride. If we don't, it's gonna be HEAVY, seriously confusing and painful. We need to learn to act from the heart rather than the head. This should take no time at all, rewiring and re-programming the planet to be good, ethically conscious souls who care for each other and the planet for future generations.

Hahaaaaa! Yeah, right!

Lenny Henry and co nailed it back in the day, didn’t they. Hello world! It’s all pretty messy. Let’s all laugh about how crazy it all is, come together and support whatever we can and do what we can. That’s the deal, right? Most people get stuck in the heavy, sticky realms of the ‘it’s all pretty messy’ part and get no further than that. Just repeat the news, get depressed, moan, judge and complain about others and do absolutely nothing positive to make a difference at all. That’s only 1/3 of the journey! That’s the easy part! Jog on, pal. Awareness, deciding to make a difference and then making a difference. That's your three step plan right there. That's what should be taught in schools.

Talking of which... 

Can you imagine if we got taught how to actually talk to people and create harmonious relationships? Can you imagine if we got taught how to break up with people correctly or amicably? Can you imagine if we got taught how to use the frickin cooker or be told that being a musician or a skateboarder was a perfectly acceptable job to aspire to have? Tony Hawks famously told his careers advisor that he was earning more money than him at 14 years old when asked what he wanted to be when he grew up. Long gone are the days of 'a normal job' or even having just one job!

We just need to allow this time to birth and breath a little. Y'know, just a little time to allow us all to catch up and see objectively, without judgement, that we are indeed being squeezed through a sped up evolutionary process. Absorb what’s collectively and consciously right and wrong, weed out the old and plant the new; nurture, nurture, nurture. Because the inevitable and constant debate between EVERYTHING is exhausting. Have you noticed we now have to have a white, black, asian, disabled, gay, lesbian and transgender character on every sitcom. The narrative has to comment on the latest moral issue otherwise it’s seen as not adjusting with the times and won't get commissioned again for being non-PC. Every show is the god damn same! Ok, to be fair, I may be guilty here of watching crap TV. It’s ok to get the news from South Park, Joe Rogan’s best of the week podcast and the banter in the sauna? I swear between the three, I get the news of the world and a real objective and diverse opinion of each topic.

Times are changing, man and I couldn't be happier about it! What a time to be alive! It's gonna be rough for a while seeing the Trumps of the world in power and people trying figure out how Brexit is figuring itself out. Our politicians somehow turn into overnight millionaires and from what? Their amazing biographies? I don’t think so. Tony Blair is doing ok the last time I checked. Um... Should he not be in jail?

Hilary had her fingers in the Monsanto pies, though, too. Her, Bill Gates and probably Bono investing into a company that... well you can look ‘em up. There’s evidence of Gates saying that de-popularisation of the world is the answer to the population problem. Ooooosh. Hey man, it’s not me saying this it’s the internet. Fake news? So, what's or who’s worse? Voting for either of those guys would have been like switching seats on the bloody titanic. But, we can't afford to let the bastards grind us down. Hey? But jeeeeeeeeeezus. What a time to be alive!

We can’t afford to not observe the amazingness that is all around us, though, too. Now that would be pessimistic and foolish of us. There's too much awesomeness brewing and cultivating every day! We all know that the world has to go to shit before it has the chance to blossom into something sustainable again. Let’s watch it all crumble and side step the debate.

Get working on the new earth and all that comes with it in whatever our field. Let’s be pioneers and get in there early! Speak our minds, make some change and stop following the damn trends and herds into mediocrity! If we’re lucky enough to not be living in utter poverty, surely we have a duty to enjoy life and help others do the same in as many moments as possible? Every person we see and meet can act as a mirror. In each person we get another chance to realise what we don’t want in our life, or a chance to meet with compassion and sympathy if they’re broken, lost or just being a dick. Or, a clear reflection of light, love, happiness and all the other hippy shit that serves us good. If we truly admit it to ourselves; love in all its forms is always a better choice than fear.

We’ve come to the point where we’re definitely aware now. We are now AWARE of all that the world is and has come to. We have awareness for this, for that, this disease, that symptom, cuddle a dog day, ‘Stoptober (don’t be an alcoholic and just learn how to moderate your drinking?) month’, pink band, white band, gotta walk around with a ‘tache for all of November otherwise I don't care about my fellow man’s balls day! My money going in those buckets doesn’t cure the disease and neither does yours. I ain’t joining in to this charade. Unless I happen to want to just rock a sweet ass ‘tache that particular month. WE ARE AWARE! We get it. Awareness is first key to change. It’s the first stepping stone but certainly not the be all and end all. What’s the chuffing solution, pal!? It’s certainly not my November ‘tache!

Hey, as long as the next steps are available, i’m all in. If they’re not, create them! This month, give us money for the awareness of Depression! Urm, we’re already aware of depression, mate. I’m from Yorkshire! What’s the solution? The solution is always in the prevention. I’ll admit it’s not the most popular view. It’s not as popular to not have a super, all-in-one-fix-it-cure-all-drug, but it’s true. Prevention is the cure! End of debate. End of story.

1. Problem - Awareness. Individually or collectively realise and accept the problem. 2. Reaction - Make a positive reaction to create change. 3. Solution - Create a better solution that the last one made. 4. Progress - Create change and freedom for self and others.

Repeat steps 1- 4 when needed and stop funding charities that promote sugar, non-nutritious foods to cure diseases.

We, as a society, package-up symptoms and disease and sell them back to us all like shiny toys. You ever walked into the supermarket and seen all the packaging and all the food that has literally no nutrition in it at all? It’s predominantly a warehouse of about 70% absolute junk that we’re pumping out and lapping up. It gets us sick, we moan and then buy the pharmaceuticals they sell us or patch-up-feel-good legal drugs like food and alcohol. Duuuuuuuuude! WTF are we all doing? What’s our endgame here?

As a whole, our values, morals and outlook are waaaaay off right now. Not even comic relief can patch up this one. As you get older do you not feel that moral obligation to sort your shit out? For the sake of yourself and others too? Do you not find that every other person we meet is either wearing their heart on their sleeve in either the positive or negative sense right now? Potentially, righteously whoring out their opinions and beliefs like myself in hope to cause a spark in someone suffering and struggling in silence. We're either raw, cooking or totally on fire! It's a melting pot of good, bad and everything in between, isn't it? Everyone seems hyper and conscious, frazzled, confused or just completely ignorant. Ignorance seems like a good call sometimes. It’s the opposite end to an easy way out though.

We're either chasing sensations of attraction or aversion in every given moment, d’you not think? It's quite funny that not only do we all know the answer, the answer is so simple and yet we seem to forget it the moment when we ‘wake up’ each day. The Zen lot would say, just observe and accept where we are in life without judgment to ourselves or others. Let go of the past. Navigate back to the moment and get cracking. Repeat this constantly. Over and over and over again. Repeat, repeat, repeat until being present in the here and now occurs naturally in your day. Relief! Voila!

Yeah? What you think? I reckon that's it. Job done. Mate, it's been serving me good for sure. It helps me detach from the past and the future and just accept life as is and all of my shit and everyone else’s too! That’s the kicker! That’s where the ease and relief comes in. Accepting others as they are. Ooooosh that’s a tough one. It’s the only solution I found to life, thus far, that needs no debate. 

What’s the saying?

Lao Tzu (Which translates as 'The Master') was actually an anonymous being that left loads of awesome wisdom on the planet. My favourite being: “If you’re depressed, you’re living in the past. If you’re anxious, you’re living in the future. If you’re at peace, you’re living in the present.”. Nailed it.

When we're really living our truth, making good, conscious decisions in life, we can truly be at peace. I think the issue is nobody seems know who they truly are. Nobody knows what’s right or wrong and nobody knows what to do about any of it. Well, we do know, don’t we! So, therefore we have to get to work and shake up the rest of us.

No religion, philosophy or rules needed. Just a good old fashioned mission statement of: BE A GOD DAMN GOOD PERSON TODAY! DO, HAVE, BE OR SAY SOMETHING GOOD! DO BETTER THAN YESTERDAY!

It's bloody hard work fighting up stream but you gotta, right? Or, we can die without ever truly experiencing the other side of the coin. Absolute Happiness! Absolute over relative happiness. Relative happiness being the quick fix’s to just fill the hole, the void. That general mentality we seem to live in. Either experience a life like a yo-yo of extremes or live the middle path and manage the good and bad, the highs and the lows. Live a life of balance! It’s free from the grip and pressure of the past and the future. It’s freedom! It’s also right here, right now in every given moment.

CHOICE!

If we have the awareness and luxury of choice, that’s all we ever need. As an individual it’s our duty to basically be a good human and create positive change. Hey, leave a legacy for your grandkids, too! Why not? Basically, just don’t be a dick.

Living unconsciously and not making that daily choice between love or fear. Oh my days. That was an exhausting way to live life. Wasn’t it!? We've been there, got the t-shirt and the mug. Smashed the mug and then glued it back together again. Chucked out the mug, lost the t-shirt. Sick and tired of being sick and tired. Constantly getting sucked in to other people’s bullshit. Job’s we don’t care about... Ugh. It was like being an extra in the story of someone else’s film. Nah, fuck that! Sorry... It’s supporting artist, not extra! Oops. Gotta keep up with the new words! We are the lead actor, the writer and producer of our own film. If we don’t realise this, we are living in someone else’s film, in someone else’s story.

It's like a sick joke with a silver lining, isn't it? This veil that has well and truly been lifted, that we're all experiencing, right here, right now. It's truly and completely messy and horrendous, but also positively beyond belief how much progress and change is being made. We are certainly consciously evolving as a species whether we’re indeed merging with the robots or not. Dude, I saw that they were making the plastic bits that tie the beers together out of edible material for fish. That's pretty rad! The missus completely eradicated all our plastic bags and bottles years ago. No chemicals at all in our flat. No chemicals in deodorants or foods. Nothing. Wooden toothbrush's and crystal rock deodorants, fridge full of farmers market organic veg for juices and smoothies. It’s a lot of upkeep and work but we’re fully invested. I used to think she was off her rocker and that the word vegan was a planet! It’s pretty nuts how we've completely changed our lifestyles and gone all in, isn’t it?

I couldn't ever go back, could you? Once you discover the other side of the coin. Nah. All in, pal. You should check out Edward Begley Juniors house. He's been building an eco house since the 70's! His white picket fence is made out of milk bottle tops. I mean... Oat mylk bottle tops (just incase any of those hardcore righteous vegans read this over your shoulder). God those guys suck. They ruin it for all us self-righteous vegans. I gotta say though, the celebration of the vegan lifestyle, yoga, meditation, well-being and all the mylk choices out there, I did not see that coming. It's pretty unreal! And proof the times are changing. Bob was on it back in the day!

We're pretty lucky to be able to make these conscious choices now. Pretty lucky for the awareness that we have this choice! 90% healthy and on it 10% full blown party time. That’s my jam. Yeah, I’ve still got my 10% party card that I pull out once in a while, mate. Don't get me wrong. I might forget my shopping bag once in a while and go wiiiiiiild and get a placky bag.

I saw someone give an old man shit for putting something in a bin once. “THAT CAN BE RECYCLED!” Oh those guys suuuuuuck! You’re doing life wrong, mate. We’re all figuring this out together. And hey, call me out if i’m doing the same. I most probably am! I’m trying my best to be objective and point out my flaws. I have many! I’m opinionated, passionate and stubborn as shit! It only ever sparks conversation and hopefully a positive change in at least one of us though, no?

I’m never a fan of those who sit on the fence. You have a voice and a brain. Use it! Or, get off that damn fence and get out of here, kid. Jog on and find the other kid that was moaning about the state of the world while doing sweet FA to contribute.

As a species though, we've definitely been forced to shine the light on what's truly important right now and dissolve what no longer serves us. We're totally getting there. Equality, gay marriage, a stronger voice for women in society, plant-based living and saving the unnecessary mass slaughter of animals.

The thriving of well-being industries and joking aside, the awareness of the importance of mental health and everything else we have bands and moustaches for. Ethical materials and products making their way into our lives... Again. The positive effects of Psilocybin on cancer patients and people with depression being discussed on mainstream TV!

The awesome effects of CBD Oil on patients with Cancer, Alzheimer's and Cerebral Palsy on both humans and animals. The mass breakthrough of stress relieving tools like Mindfulness, Meditation, Qi Gong and Yoga helping kids, teenagers, parents, inmates, housemates and everyone in between.

Dude, It's safe to say we are all experiencing, both individually and collectively, an overwhelming wave of joy and pain, love and fear, clarity and confusion, simultaneously on a global mass scale. In doing so, we're making way for the birth of a new world and new environment for sure. The release of it all brings suffering to some and joy to others. That's the crux of it all.

What a time to be alive! Which side are you on?

'What a time to be alive!' This could be a state of heaven or hell depending on your outlook and circumstance, right? The buddhists say that heaven and hell are both here on earth rather than a judea-christian outlook with your granny playing a harp and satan surfing the lake of fire.

Heaven and hell and everything in between is a state of mind we experience in each moment. It’s choice that programmes the GPS system and destiny. If we have the ability to read information on a device in this day and age, there's a very high chance we are armed with the powerful choice of choosing love or fear in any given moment, right?

So, this knocked me off my feet. Check this out! There's over 300 million people suffering with depression, worldwide. Depression is the leading cause of disability worldwide right now. How crazy is that, man!? Are we still allowed to say ‘crazy'? So where are these 300 million then? Oh that's right, we've got ridiculously good at hiding it, haven’t we! You and I both, hey! We need to keep our shit together in order to survive and not bring Doctor Doom to the party. That is until we inevitably, eventually pop. Mate, I can lock up all my feelings just like the next man can! Person. Like the next person can. See! The times are changing! Just about covered my ass there.

Is blasphemy still just a grey area? Do we have an all clear on god damn? What are the rules? I love a good god damn! Do you find that you’re starting to also question every word that you throw out incase you get called out and lynched? I heard a guy get really mad at someone say ‘midget’.

“It’s not midget it’s little people!” Is it?? Is ‘little people' the preferred title chosen by... I’m not particularly reckless with my words, but I do feel the egg shells cracking, constantly. We’re all figuring out what we think is OK and what's acceptable for this new time we're moving into. And that, my friend, is why I watch South Park. I learned about gender neutral toilets from South Park!

I do know we're not allowed to say 'brain storm' anymore! I totally get it. Imagine little Jimmy has a tumour and all his mates are shouting “BRAIN STORM! BRAIN STORM!”. Little Jimmy is gonna lose his shit. A shame because I loved a good brain storm at school. It's mind maps or cloud thoughts now.

Gotta keep moving with the times people! Keep up, keep up, keep up!!! Exhausting, isn't it? When did you pop by the way? Have you popped yet or are you managing your shit well enough? I popped in 2012 and have been attempting to drag others over to the other side ever since. No wonder we feel ambushed, overwhelmed and frazzled. We don't know what words to say incase we missed the meeting and that word is no longer cool or valid anymore. The correct grammar for email but not necessarily a text... Should we say... ‘See ya, pal!’ or ‘See ya pa!’? Does it matter anyway? It does if you're dealing with a hierarchy of intellects, backgrounds and cultures in your place of work. Not so much in school I imagine. We've been ambushed, but simultaneously upgraded with a shit ton of knowledge like a cosmic slap round the face.

I would like to at this point, thank you for your patience for allowing me to gather my own thoughts in this cathartic ramble by the way. This ramble has helped me figure out a few things. So, thanks. I’ll look forward to your reply.

It's got it's pluses for sure, but, by Lord, have we not all seen enough of us go down in the process. We've both lost a few friends and friends of friends. Mate, all those celebs in the last few years? It's like the 27 club all over again. Apart from this time it was mostly voluntary and not most probably a CIA job.

Martin Luther King, John F. Kennedy, Hendrix, The Beatles... Oooooh the times were changing then man! It went downhill after that. I 1000% believe we’re picking it up where we left off! Aaaaaaaaaaw I've only just realised the BEATles is a music pun! How did I miss that?????

When Robin Williams went, that was the sign that's something was definitely not right on planet earth. Oh man, I genuinely miss Robin Williams! Life can be confusing, unfair, relentless, overwhelming and sometimes just fucking rough. But, hey, sometimes, for fleeting moments, it's totally badass! Sometimes it's even FANTASTIC!

We've got to the point that we need to at least acknowledge the other side of the coin now. This side being love, absolute happiness, change, positivity and peace we can experience within us. I ain’t saying the world as a whole as we’ll always need that yin and yang. But, certainly within us, we have the choice. We’ve done, seen and experienced all the fear, hate, lack, pessimism, poverty, racism, sexism, depression and anxiety. We’ve seen the results. The results are well and truly in. They suck!

To balance out this eco-system, the equilibrium within us and that expression into the planet, we have to individually choose either love or fear in every given moment. Constantly. Repeat, repeat, repeat for the sake of ourselves, family, friends and the world itself. We have a job to do! For sure we do. It feels like a responsibility now rather than the chore that it once was as a kid.

Historically though, we are 100% definitely experiencing something out of the ordinary, for sure, right now. Put your hand down, no debates needed. Put your mouth and thoughts away, pal! On this note, we can give ourselves a break. We can collectively take a breath and sigh of comic relief and say “Hey, fuck! The world is fucking nuts!”.

This will help us all bring compassion to those who are struggling right now. Because just being a human-being is hard enough!

So, what have me and the boys decided to do? We've only gone and decided to navigate our way through these insanely treacherous waters and do 'the work’ the only way we know how. We found the thing we love more than life itself. Music! Music, much like comedy is a high vibration and should be honoured in all of its expressions and forms. Just as much as all the ‘proper jobs’ out there. That negative belief system was one of the hardest one’s we ever had to battle as musicians, artists, creatives and performers. We matter and contribute to the world just as much as the suits do! And we bring the tunes to the party too!

We've channeled it into a vessel we call Black Surf and we're firing off all the joy, happiness, creativity, and love into the world where it's needed. Why the chuff not! What else are we gonna do? Sit in a pub and moan about Brexit?

If we have a choice, which we are fortunate to have, struggling against all odds and following your dreams is waaaaaay better than sitting in our pants on the ends of the bed, staring at the shoes we don't want to wear to a job we hate. Like a supporting artist in somebody’s else film.

Mainly for ourselves and to satisfy the urges of writing and playing live for the love of it. Just knowing that we're out there trying to inspire anyone in need of inspiration and allowing space, compassion and sympathy for our inevitable dirty trolls. We love them all. We gotta embrace all the positive change that is here among us and be free enough to let the music we create flow through us, harness it, record it and just keep moving. Because otherwise we’re just arm chair philosophers and wannabes.

It's a debatable point, of course, but I love it in essence. If you wanna save the land don’t chain yourself to the tree. Raise the money, buy the land and do something awesome with it! Save the trees and leave no man behind! Aaaaaaah fucked it.

Hope all is well! Look forward to hearing about YOU! Big LOVE

x Ali

P.S. I've only just remembered in this moment, the moment that I literally typed my name, that you only asked how the band was doing. I'll save the story and mission of Black Surf for next time. It’s all been pretty ridiculous. Messed up, yet beautifully glorious.

#blog #blogger #life #opinion #current events #current news #the world we live in #plant based #vegan #veganism #consciousness #being mindful #mindfulness #meditation #yoga #qigong #black surf #music #musicians #mental heatlh #brexit #metoo #london #2018 #funny #truth #friday feeling #friday reads #friday nigh #christmas

[dapperandwoke-blog]

The Dapper and Woke Manifesto

Hello and welcome to Dapper and Woke!

I’m Angel, the creator and curator of this blog. I’m a 28-year-old 2nd generation Cuban-American comedy writer, performer, and sometimes essayist living in Los Angeles. My personal Tumblr where I share my writing is @angelmarticastillo

So why start an activist style blog? 

In August of 2016 I started a new day job at a large office in Beverly Hills. So many people walk around the campus in stylish business dress that I felt compelled to step my game up and upgrade my wardrobe, experimenting with ties, button-ups, suspenders, crafting a skincare regimen, and doing whatever else I thought spiffed me up. 

Part of it was just out of a desire to appear professional and impress my boss, another part of it was self care. Being able to match my level of dress to others and feel like I belonged there helped relieve my anxiety with the new job and allowed me to feel more confident. As someone dealing with depression, the act of investing in my presentation and putting myself together every morning has significantly helped elevate my mood, motivation, and self-esteem.

In the years leading up to the last election, with large-scale protest movements like Black Lives Matter and No DAPL gaining prominence, I wanted to stand with them. However, I would look at myself in my button-up shirt and tie and think to myself “How can I stand with protesters and marginalized groups when I look just like the privileged men who antagonize them?”

Gradually, my vision began to coalesce: Style, like activism, is about choices, and thus style itself can be a form of activism if you purposefully choose to buy products and services that support marginalized groups and other activist voices. In the post-Trump world, where many feel like electoral politics have failed them, we can at least choose to act on an individual level and vote with our wallets by giving our money to people and businesses trying to make the world a better and more inclusive place, especially in a political and economic climate designed to harm them.

The purpose of this blog is to highlight those people and businesses and give activist-minded consumers a resource to find them and spend their money not just to look good, but to feel good about making a difference. While there may be no such thing as 100% ethical consumption under capitalism, while we are living under it, we can still try our best.

Dapper and Woke will strive to highlight creators and purveyors of apparel, shoes, accessories, skin care, hair care, and other products that:

- Are owned/operated by members of marginalized groups (e.g. women, people of color, LGBTQ, refugees, undocumented immigrants, people with disabilities, and and all lovely intersectional mixes and matches)

- Have a specific activist political message (e.g. are you an LGBTQ-owned business that sells rainbow flag pocket squares? Hit us up!)

- Have ethical/activist employment practices (e.g. specifically hiring refugees, former convicts, etc.)

- Donate portions of their profits to charities or direct political action.

- Emphasize sustainability and helping the environment (e.g. locally sourced, organic, vegan, humane farming)

- Cater to body types typically ignored in mainstream fashion (e.g plus-sized clothiers, products for curly and kinky hair, dark skin, clothes designed for people with disabilities, etc.)

Of course, just like how there’s no 100% perfect ally, there’s no 100% perfect business that will do all of the above, but any that attempt to hit one or more of the above goals without expressly harming the others (”Hey, like my vegan leather shoes that are made by a child sweat shop in Borneo?”), they deserve to be featured!

This blog will focus on items that are usually categorized as “men’s style,”e.g. suits and ties, but this blog is for anybody of any gender expression or identity who happens to like dressing in a masculine dapper way. One of the snappiest dressers I personally know is Janine Brito, a lesbian Cuban-American comedian who also lives here in LA and KILLS it in a blazer and bow tie. If she wants to find a tie that’s just as radical and queer and stylish as she is, I want this to be the place where she can find it. If you’re a trans or non-binary person who likes to wear suits and won’t buy from corporations in the pockets of transphobic politicans, I want this to be your place to go.

With that inclusiveness in mind, this blog will accept submissions. If you own or patronize a business that you feel fits with the vibe of this blog, send me your recommendation, submit your own review, send me a Youtube video, whatever! Like any good activist movement, this is a collective!

This blog will also feature interviews with owners and purveyors about their activism, interviews with activists about their style choices, general style tips for people new to dressing up, as well as tips to encourage good mental and emotional self-care. Looking good starts with thinking good things about yourself, because you are great!

Finally, I want this blog to also be a place to SEE woke people looking dapper! If you just bought a nice piece from a company that fits with the vibe of the blog, send a picture of you modeling it! If you see a post of some Idris Elba-looking handsome activist, let’s share that, too! Show me how your new cuff links complement the rims on your wheelchair! Let’s help send the message that fashion and style can be reconciled with inclusive, intersectional, progressive goals. 

Thanks for joining me on this journey, and I look forward to seeing how it develops. Even if the revolution will not be televised, we can all look TV-ready.

Dapperly yours,

Angel M. Castillo Feb 2nd, 2017

#about #Dapper and Woke #fashion #style #clothes #cosmetics #skin care #activist #progressive #intersectional #anti-fascist #anti-racist #lgbtq

[e-z-like-a-sunday-morning]

Somewhere In The Between

‘And Somewhere in the Between

There’s a Love for which we all Dream,

And Nothing and No-one can ever take that away.’

-          Streetlight Manifesto

I return home from a day well spent in London, rehearsing for a recording session for my girlfriend’s EP. She will be paying me for it, which I guess means I’m technically currently a professional session musician, which I find pleasing.

On the train home the people I say hello to actually say hello back and start talking to me. One even plays my drum whilst I play guitar - both surprising and wonderful.

I splay myself down in front my television and eat a pseudo-vegan meal as I watch a 90’s kid’s cartoon called Leo the Lion on my VCR, because somehow the fifteen minutes I spent in Old Street today turned me into a card carrying Hipster. I sink down into my bed with thoughts of music and flames, both old and new, content in the fading tendrils of a day well spent.

Waking life slips away as I find myself swimming in old places and old faces. Reality starts to return to my life, as, ‘with the courage of a clown, or a cur, or a kite jerking tight at its tether’, I drift past palaces and through cheering crowds, and find myself in familiar lands, under the expectant gaze of a billion forgetful eyes.

I am back in New Orleans, in a small dive bar just off Decatur, no bigger than your living room, all dark maroons, low divans and bookshelves, full of the kind of creative service industry types that in London would be Hipsters and in New Orleans would be Gutter Punks. All blacks and browns with too much makeup and too much moustache, or perhaps I am just too naked and hairless.

I am stood by a bookshelf, sifting through the business cards of tattoo artists. Kai Kita. A great one. She did my chest and back. Oh hey Doom Puppy! I think I owe her money.

I turn to the people next to me. A handle-barred hipster and his dark haired companion, both being shown around by Meg.

Meg was an ex-prostitute who lived with Tyger and I a short while, before Tyger got shived in the kidneys for bottling a lesbian in the face, is a phrase I would never have thought I would be able to utter with honesty, had you asked me three years ago.

Meg was short, thin and ginger, with bulbous silver braces over her teeth and tattoos over every part of her body from her face to her feet. A swastika here, a middle finger, a samurai and a swearword there. All violence and vitriol, spewing forth out of an accent so thick with the tones of Boston as to be barely discernible, although I could happily listen to her high-pitched, lyrical cackle and drawl for hours, the same way one might listen to A Survivor From Warsaw, transfixed by the beautiful horror unfolding inside ones earholes.

She had apparently been involved in some kind of kidnapping plot, the details of which elude me, but which I believe may have precipitated her arrival in New Orleans.

‘Hey! You guys want a free tattoo? I owe this chick money.’

The hipsters look confusedly to their guide for guidance.

‘Naaaaahhhh. I’ve got no space left. Why don’t you get one off her?’ Meg splutters to me, all smiles.

‘Oh no, I couldn’t do that’ I splutter back, looking down at one of my tattoos – Let It Go, This Too Shall Pass - ‘I’m not sure I’m still the tattoo kind of guy.’

My three companions exchange knowing glances and smiles, and return to their reading a moment before a bell chimes to announce the beginning of the night’s entertainment. Eagerly, I take a seat on the floor by the entrance amid a packed crowd of maybe six to ten other patrons. Happily, the first act is Meg. She is doing Cabaret! I love Cabaret. She is singing a song of sexy sadness, and stalking, woefully and elegantly waving from side to side as she admits, dramatically yet unsurprisingly, that it was in fact she who snuck into my house to steal the blue cheese from my fridge, the absolute villain.

Suddenly, the music ramps up a notch. It probably changes key and becomes a tango, as everyone in the crowd that isn’t me jumps up into a synchronised dance that they have obviously rehearsed, and obviously not rehearsed enough. I find myself terrified – are they all in on it? Is this all for me? What else might these blaggards have planned? Will I ever go back to using normal words again?!?

Drinks are knocked over and vases shattered as Meg is pirouetted between her supporting cast, lifted this way and that, passed and thrown from side to side, and waved up and down like she were made from flags and string and this were Dirty Dancing.

Meg is found, splayed and drenched across the shoulders of six dancers who barely manage to keep from using her as a battering ram to accost the patrons of the bar one wall over. The music takes a darker turn, as notes of anger and frustration begin to enter. The wall she barely managed to avoid headbutting becomes, rather poetically, with hints of the afore-mentioned blue cheese, symbolic of the emotional wall of her inner spiritual life, or some-such.

She spins down onto her feet, staring at a book that she picks up and drops again, all sweat and hazy Paisley, amidst whispers from her team of dancers.

‘That went well. We didn’t even break her neck this time.’

‘She’s had it – she’s got no more in her.’

‘She’s not serious. She’d never actually do it. She’s all talk.’

‘Like he’ll ever actually notice. He’s not bright enough. Anyway he’s too lazy to actually care.’

All their words start to melt together as familiar songs start to play and old fears start to arise in me. It’s my turn to move. My solo, and I’ve failed too many of these to not notice when it’s my turn to dramatically fail at something.

A screeching of car tyres outside. Meg jerks out of her reverie, looks at me and then past me to the exit, with daggers in her eyes, and starts to sprint, in slow motion.

‘Meg, don’t do it!’ Tears well and chest clutches. Heart chokes as body scrambles over itself, clutching, clasping, for redemption and forgiveness. Not another one. Please God, not another one. This time I can be fast enough. I can be better.

His arms wrap themselves about the girls leg and cling on for dear lives, stopping her from leaving the bar, dragging her to a muddled, joyous, and rather unexpected halt. It’s a little awkward as I look up through tears and pleas to a face looking down at me with disappointment and annoyance, more than anything. at having her big moment ruined. The anger hasn’t been externalised at me yet, unfortunately.

Outside, a car drives itself into the distance as we stare at each other across the space of three thousand miles and about as many emotions. I find myself, unsure of what to do next, wanting to apologise and tell her that this doesn’t normally happen to me. To be honest, I think I’m more used to being the one crying over the mangled body in the street.

It’s funny, I never took Meg for the suicidal kind, back when I was in New Orleans. I wonder what part of me was trying to kill itself. I don’t wonder for very long, though, as that’s a story for another day and another dream, and another crowd - hopefully one exponentially smaller.

Well, the moment is somewhat ruined and we’re all a little bit of the wrong kind of soggy, as the crowd mills about despondently and Meg stomps off grumpily to the other end of the bar, through into another room.

Today though, my solo is to be an extended one it seems, as I hear music begin to mumble its way out of silence and I remember that the other room also has a road-facing-exit.

I clamber over bodies and through treacle to the other room, where I see Meg making another mad dash for an appointment with collision.

Sprinting through the watching crowd, I tackle her to the ground. Straddling her and pinning her arms, I try my hardest to not get turned on nor bitten whilst also trying to work out which is which amidst this snarling heap of hatred and limbs. I remember the sickly fascination and gleaming eyes with which Meg had described to me the traumatic experience of watching her cat get torn apart by Tyger’s massive dogs.

I don’t remember it for long though – soon all my energy is exerted trying to calm and placate this screaming ball of beautiful death. For a second I am reminded of my girlfriend, before I am bitten on the hand and reminded that such thoughts shall be the ones to kill me, in the end.

The music picks up into the jovial waltz one might find in The Sound of Music or Educating Rita, as the bar slows down and around us a brawl breaks out, tumbling bodies colliding and exploding, glass shattering and Jokers being thrown through walls and windows, as tooth digs into skin and eyes turn to red pinpricks of frustration and confusion.

I, on the other hand, am smiling quite amicably, and moving quite slowly, almost elegantly – finally, we’re in a familiar setting, in a key signature whose notes I know well. I can relax a little, as Meg loses her strength and becomes like cute putty.

I begin to sing, with the kind of voice one might use to proclaim the benefits of discovering that their testicles were situated in their ears. It’s a duet, although Meg’s part mostly consists of snarls and well timed shards of eye murder.

Imagine a hauntingly jaunty folk melody. Also imagine that it rhymes, if you will.

‘You could build an orphanage in Ghana! You could climb every building in Peru! You could show Pirates of the Caribbean to every pirate currently in the Caribbean!

‘Did you think I would leave you? From my first brick smoke stack to my last raging fire, did you think I would be the one to let you go? Surely you know me better.

You could learn every song from the 40’s. You could take flowers to the elderly, you could rob a bank, or sell cars, or save strangers, or kill time. You could learn, to move me.’

At the time I had a whole list of similar reasons to choose life, and what’s more, it actually rhymed, but as is always the way with things, I spent too long making testicle jokes and choreographing a scene from Sucker Punch to actually remember the lyrics to a song I found both hilarious and beautiful.

The music fades to a close as, outside the door, we hear a barking noise. Snapping out of our sado-masochistic stupor, we crane our heads around a door with eyebrows raised to see an adorable little sausage dog, barking at passing cars and floating on feet too fast to count. It seems to be looking for food on Decatur Street, oblivious to the inherent danger of being so cute around so many obvious psychopaths. So far most of the cars have managed to avoid hitting it, but I’ll be called Larry if I didn’t see some of those drivers trying to swerve toward the poor thing, when they thought people weren’t looking.

Meg and I untangle ourselves and crawl out onto the side walk to call to the dog and scream at the passing cars, hoping each time that the creature will survive and come towards us.

Finally, he listens, and trots towards us, eyes wide, tongue lolling, lead trailing, tail wagging.

‘Well Done! Good Boy! We’re so proud of you!’ He jumps into our arms and licks our faces as we cuddle and stroke him ecstatically. Somebody fetches some food for the poor thing, and I find myself petting him alone, lost in the moment, as Meg slinks back into darkness, the gleam of her eye leaving a trail in the shadows.

As I feed and pet the wonderful little creature I think of home, and day-life, and how I wish I had a dog, and am dragged from my reverie by the sound of screeching tyres and a sickening thud. I look up, wondering where Meg is.

I awake in my bed. It’s 4.50am, and I have work to do – after all, apparently I’m a writer of some sort, and those were some exceedingly fine lyrics, if I’ll ever actually remember them. It’s a shame about Meg, but I think she would like to hear that she’s been haunting my dreams and caressing me with her dying moments.

Begrudgingly, I clamber out of bed and begin the monumental task of finding the motivation to write something that will never be as good as Monkey and Bear by Joanna Newsom. Or Emily by Joanna Newsom. Or anything, in fact, by Joanna Newsom.

Omid Ezekiel Ramak