#every time i see people joke about 'getting into blender is the 'ill work out' for artists' i get upset

[blobbei-art]

"I should get into blender"

Many artists often joke about this.

But honestly, please don't force yourself to do it or think that this is the best way to getting better at 2D art. 3D is its own, very huge, complex and confusing medium of art with a high learning curve. You can easily get frustrated at the start. There's plenty of other ways to use 3D tools to help you.

But if you're scared and still looking to break into it here's some ideas you can do to start small and/or use it to help with your 2D art:

If you just want to model objects for you to trace/use as references: -> Basic lowpoly modelling is enough, especially if you just wanna get a background perspective right. Get some cubes, extrude faces and move around their faces/edges/verts. -> Alternatively, go to sketchfab and look for models, get it into position, screenshot and trace it. No modelling needed. -> Learn how to block out scenes or characters!

If you want to make characters: -> Learn 3D Sculpting! It's a lot more intuitive for a 2D artist. Blender has a sculpting feature. There's also NomadSculpt on iPad but it costs a little money. -> Also helps immensely with anatomy practise! Look up some anatomy references and really work out the details by blocking out the shapes of muscles. -> You can also do other props with sculpting, it's called Hard Surface but it's more difficult to do than organic shapes.

The infamous Blender Donut tutorial: -> This may be subjective but I've seen many 3D artists actually recommend against doing the Blender Donut. It doesn't cover all of the basics. -> Look for tutorials that aren't Blender Guru. You could also just look up individual steps such as "blender lowpoly modelling" or whatever. -> There are multiple ways to start out with a model. I personally like to do lowpoly (also known as low-to-high workflow) without using the subdivision modifier. Find something that's right for you!

3D taught me a ton about art and did make my 2D art improve. But I also do it because it's fun on its own. Don't think you have to do it. You're doing fine.

Also these are just ideas, i am not a professional. I'm simply going off from my own and other art students' experiences.

If you do try it, i wish you good luck and have fun!

#3d #art tips #blender #b3d #this isnt negative i just think the statements of '3d helps you improve your art' and 'dont push yourself to get into 3d' can coexist #every time i see people joke about 'getting into blender is the 'ill work out' for artists' i get upset #bc you dont need to! you are fine #and even if you do want to try it out. you can start small! you dont need to know everything. it doesnt have to be scary #dont learn 5 steps at once just learn one

[dustjacketmusings]

The Intervention Scene: Pretty Much A Rant

I've seen a lot of really great discourse in the fandom around whether the intervention was controlling/abusive or necessary tough love. The thing is... Nesta absolutely needed an intervention. And this was an intervention. Feyre said approximately the right things at approximately the right time with approximately the right amount of structure for this to be successful. My problem is all of the approximates. It's really not clear why there was an intervention in the first place, and all of the actions following it undercut the message, or literally any message.

I charted them all out because this mess is living rent free in my brain. So here are the possible reasons why there could have been an intervention, and why the intervention itself or following actions made it fall so very flat for me.

Nesta is depressed. This is absolutely true. We see from Nesta's perspective that she is slowly killing herself. But following conversations with other characters make it clear that how Nesta sees herself is not how Cassian and other others see her. Do Feyre and Cassian know that Nesta is depressed? I honestly have no idea. And if that's the reason why they intervened... why did it take until Chapter 12 for anyone to ask how she was doing? Like - putting a depressed person in bootcamp and then never asking them how they feel, while systematically shutting down any time they want to vent is the worst idea I've ever heard. Even if Cassian is excused (maybe he didn't get the memo), Feyre could have checked up on her more. I wouldn't send my very depressed sister away without status updates more frequently than Feyre does. She also, pointedly, does not take Cassian aside to remind him to treat her sister with kindness. This is not even to say that the bootcamp aspect of this is extreme. If she is just depressed, why does she need to train so vigorously that she needs a strict diet? Exercise first -> battle formations later. The weird focus on training still makes no sense to me. I understand expecting training to help, but Cassian really does shut down any time she tries to talk about her feelings.

Nesta is alcoholic. This is pretty realistic and the structure of the intervention mimics this cause the closest. This looks like the intervention from the family of an addict. The problem is... Nesta has no problems with alcohol. She's fine after two days, never has a relapse, and suffers no ill effects. If that's the case, was she in danger of being an alcoholic in the first place? There also isn't really a plan for when she gets out of here. Eventually she'll be able to climb the stairs and even though she has no money, an addict will go to desperate measures to get alcohol. It's never brought up or addressed. The training aspect of bootcamp seems extra extreme for this scenario because... why would she need to train at all? It's just detoxing, really.

Nesta is not eating enough and arguably has an eating disorder. This one infuriates me after the breakfast scene. I cannot come up with words to explain how absolutely stupid it is to take someone with a suspected eating disorder and then control what they eat, while ignoring their requests for different food. Additionally... TRAINING. Why would you physically exhaust someone who's not eating? They'll just train and not eat and then they're worse off. And also this would be way better if anyone ever referenced THAT SHE WAS EATING. "Cassian... make sure she eats something" would have made Feyre so much more sympathetic. Ugh its just the worst! Because they notice that she's lost weight (while still fitting in her leathers perfectly, because that's possible), and then totally ignore her positive attempts to eat food.

Nesta is a sex addict. This is also argueable true. But I'm again unclear how training and mandatory service are supposed to help a sex addict other than keeping them busy. And, of course, she has a ton of sex with Cassian all the time. So if this is the issue, its incredibly problematic and never solved. They just stuck her in bootcamp while also feeding her addiction. There is literally no reason for the controlling aspects.

Nesta is spending too much of Feyre's money. Yeah this is true. Sorry Nesta but its absolutely within Feyre's right to cut her off. That being said... bootcamp? "You spent too much of my money so I'm going to control almost every aspect of your day and kick you out of your apartment" ??? I don't think I need to say how extreme of a response this is. This motivation would work really well if she was just doing library services. "You spent too much money without contributing so now you have to contribute at this library. Since you can't winnow or fly and everyone else has actual jobs (it's my headcannon that they have actual jobs and can't just taxi service) you need to live there too. Cassian will also be there because he lives there and to make sure you comply." Feyre could just say she's going to pay back her debt so she has to work at the library for XX time. OR the libary now funds her allowance (but that gives her way too much freedom). But training? We'll revisit in a few months? Revisit what?

Nesta is embarrassing Feyre as High Lady. This one is tricky, because on the one hand, fuck Feyre for this comment. On the other hand, Feyre is now an important public official and her sister does reflect on her. (Do not get me started on how Feyre not being able to "control" her sister implies shes unfit to be High Lady. The fact that she used the word "control" implies that she's unfit to be High Lady, not Nesta's behavior. You don't control your subjects but - ugh, I got started) Lets assume for a second that this is valid. If Nesta is embarrassing Feyre in public wouldn't the rational response to have someone... tell her what is appropriate behavior in public? Say, someone very good with presenting a public face... like Mor??? Who also conveniently has a few days off from being a politician????? Bootcamp to become a strong warrior is... not relevant? Wtf? Have they never met a warrior who is totally compentent on the battlefield and an epic embarrassment otherwise (that sounds kind of like Cassian tbh...). There is an arguement to be made that Nesta already knows how to do this (she's actually decent at politics) so her embarrassing Feyre must be on purpose. It's still a gross oversight to say "You're behaving incorrectly but I'm not going to tell you what was incorrect, go fix it". UNLESS:

They want to control Nesta. This one makes an UNCOMFORTABLE amount of sense. They didn't tell her what to fix. She's just going off and "they'll revisit in a few months" to check on her progress. See how moldable she is maybe? Controlling every aspect of her life in a place she can't escape on her own? check. BUT because this book makes no sense, they manage to fuck this up too. Why did they train at Windhaven?? Look, I'm not saying that anyone should control someone's life until they break down and become a shell of their former self, but if someone were to do that, it's in private. Arguably, Windhaven, where there was civil unrest less than a year ago, is full of people who ABSOLUTELY need to believe that Nesta is under the control of the IC (or at least on the same side). So why would they take her there on the first day, when she is most full of defiance? (They're idiots, moving on) Cassian's comments about how Nesta was embarrassing him in front of other people were hilariously a joke because he put them in front of other people to begin with. (Even if they didn't want to control her, why windhaven? Like... oh look there's the High Lady's sister who is an absolute weakling and garbage at throwing a punch. This reflects so well on the inner circle. what????)

The problem is that SJM took all of these reasons and put them in a blender to give some frankenstein motivation. In the end there was too much going on so she achieved none of it. It feels almost like a successful intervention, until you look a little closer, and then everything falls apart.

#anti acosf #acosf spoilers #nesta archeron #acosf #anti sjm

[just-a-fangirl13]

MacGyver fanfic

So this is my attempt at a MacGyver fanfic based on the spoiler we got from the MacGyver writers about Mac and Riley getting unexpectedly linked in season 5. (No this does not have anything to do with handcuffs this is just something I would like to see play out.😂)

I know it's kinda long but I hope you like it anyways.

I WOULD RECOMMEND LISTENING TO ARMOUR BY LANDON AUSTIN in the background for added effect...(I am weird I know😂)

(P.S. please ignore any typos...)

spoilers for. season 1-4.

*this takes place a six months after Mac and Desi have broken up. Bozer and Mac are spending time with each other playing video games at Mac’s flat after a long mission. They hadnt got a call from Matty about a new one just yet. So they were making the most of it after ages.*

“So Mac when are you getting back to dating?” Bozer asked. He was happy that Mac was finally doing better emotionally but he was worried Mac was going to spend the rest of his life building carbon scrubbers and car engines out of blenders, alone. He knew Riley and Mac would be perfect together but saying anything upfront would just end with Mac closing up like a clam shell and not dealing with his feelings. He knew better than to try and get involved.

He did have a plan though. He was going to convince Mac to try out this new dating app called Link’d. It was basically like every other dating app only difference..? It narrowed matches down by people you might have crossed paths with and you also have no idea who your date is until you get to a restaurant the app picked for you. The app reduced any possibility of being stood up or judged because you had no idea what the other person looked like and so no one ever lied. Bozer had already told Riley to try it out but he wasn’t sure if she would.

Bozer had hoped that maybe Mac and Riley would see each other going on dates and the fear of losing the other might kick in and maybe, just maybe they would deal with their feelings.

“Bozer come on, I am not ready yet besides I thought we talked about this. It’s only been a few months since Desi and I broke up.” said Mac. 

“A few? Mac, its been six months and even Desi has moved on. All I’m saying is go on a date or two. You deserve to be happy too you know. Its time to get all that weight off your shoulders and live a little man.”

“Yeah I know.” Mac seemed to be considering the idea. A date sounded like fun and he could use a distraction from everything going on at Phoenix. 

“Fine, then show me your phone.” said Bozer putting his hand out. Mac raised his eyebrow. “Why do you need it? I know I’ve broken a lot of your phones, is this your version of payback?", said Mac laughing nervously, "You'll won't hold my phone hostage until I agree will you?"

Bozer laughed, Mac was really never going to change. He cautiously handed over the phone and Bozer got to setting up Mac’s profile while Mac tried to get a look at what Bozer was doing secretly worried he was going to put him in some ridiculous situation.

When Bozer was done he handed the phone back to Mac.

“There you go. I installed a dating app called Link’d that will set you up on a blind date. Just hit that button and the algorithm will find you your perfect match.” Bozer left out the part where Riley might also use the app. But then again the possibility of them getting Link’d was slim since LA itself had about a few hundred thousand other users.

“A blind date?” Mac was confused. “Boze I dont know if this is such a good idea.” Bozer could tell every worst case scenario was going through Mac’s head right now.

“I haven't hit the button yet. Think about it and press it whenever you want. No pressure Mac. Whoever you end up with will be lucky to know you.”

“Thanks Boze. Ill think about it. Now can we get back to the game so I can kick your ass again?” said Mac with a smile on his face. He really would think about it. After all a blind date meant no pressure right?

*A few days later*

Riley had decided to use the app after all. It was just a date right? It didn't have to mean anything. She wouldn't even have to call the person back if it was a disaster.

Riley’s phone had pinged with an alert last night. She had got a match and had it yes without thinking twice. She was a bit nervous about going on a date with some random guy but Bozer had a lot of faith in the app. She only knew the guy would have a white rose with him so she could identify him. nothing else

She was very tempted to hack into the apps mainframe and find out who the guy was but she remembered her promise to Bozer. No hacking. 

She had looked up the restaurant however. It was a nice romantic place in the heart of the city. Yes she could enjoy herself. No worrying about Mac or Phoenix or Codex or anything else.

She could do this. She could go on this one date, no strings attached and maybe just maybe she would be able to forget about her feelings for Mac for a night.

She decided to wear the new black knee-length dress she had bought a few weeks ago, but hadn't had the chance to wear yet. It felt good to dress up for a change. She could totally do this. After all what could even go wrong. No one at Phoenix knew about this date and she would fill Bozer and Desi in later if it went well.

********

Meanwhile, Mac was at the restaurant at a corner table. It was a nice cozy booth that meant they were away from the hustle and bustle of the 3 star restaurant. He had to admit the app was pretty cool. Not only did it pick a restaurant but it had pre booked a table too. It did help alleviate the stress of picking a place. 

Mac still fidgeted though:- with the candle in the center of the table, the tablecloth, his suit jacket and even the white rose he had to carry so his date would recognise him. He checked the time for the 10th time in the last five minutes. He was always a little late so he didn't want to take any chances and had ended up 10 minutes early instead.

********

Riley’s cab pulled up at the restaurant. She was walking past the huge front window in a hurry. She was just on time.

She walked into the restaurant and gave her name to the host. As she was being led to her table and praying she wasn’t late, her phone started ringing. It was Bozer. Filled with guilt she put her phone on silent. Stupid button wouldn't work and she fidgeted with it while walking. She promised herself she would fill Bozer in once the date was over.

“Riles?” 

Riley looked up from her phone at the sound of Mac’s voice. Was she hearing things now? But nope there he was, with a white rose, sitting at the table where the host had pulled up a chair intended for her.

“Mac? What are you doing here?”

Mac looked handsome as always. He had on a dark blue jacket, with his hair in his usual short and mess style. He had a look that bordered on confusion and amusement.

Surely there was some mistake. Maybe it was a joke. Or maybe there was an emergency mission and Mac was here to pick her up for the mission. That had to be it. Right?

“I was supposed to be here on a date with a girl I have never met before. You?” Mac smiled. Riley’s stomach flipped. Things had just got so much more complicated.

*****

Riley looked stunning. Mac knew that of course but she managed to catch him by surprise all the same.

She was just as surprised as him but now the doubt was creeping in. What if Riley was disappointed that it was him? What if she was really excited to meet someone new and him being here would ruin her night?

Riley had seemed a bit distant lately maybe this was the universes way of giving them a chance to figure things out after all.

“Well I came here thinking i was on blind date too. The Universe has a weird sense of humour." Riley broke into a smile and sat down. Mac was relieved and even more nervous at the same time. 

What was wrong with him? It was just Riles. They would have a nice meal, figure things out and then laugh about this story later right?

Riley picked up the menu and a few seconds of complete silence ticked by. Mac couldn’t handle it and broke the silence.

“So” he said. “We should probably talk right?”

*****

“Something on your mind?” asked Riley. A million thoughts ran through her head as she put down the menu. This was the part she wasn't looking forward to. She had hoped he wouldnt bring it up until later in the night but it was the elephant in the room. What was she thinking sitting down, pretending everything was fine?

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” said Mac. “You know about how you’ve been avoiding me ever since we almost died in that Codex compound from the missile. Then you moved out suddenly without much of a reason. If it was the drilling sounds I would have stopped you know.”

“It wasn't the drilling sounds or anything you did Mac. I just moved out to give you and Desi the space you deserved.” said Riley.

Her thoughts ran back to the moment he held her hand. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to bring that up right now. The truth was Riley had been distancing herself from Mac. 

Desi was her friend and she was never going to tell Mac about her feelings. It would ruin everything. Even after he and Desi broke up, Riley knew that she and Mac would never happen. She wouldn't be selfish and risk their friendship.

“Come on Riles. You’re my best friend. Whatever is going on then, you can tell me. I know its probably my fault but I need you to talk to me so I can fix it.” 

How could she tell him? There would just be a cloak of awkwardness between them that would never go away and it wouldnt be something he could fix. She had to end this. Now.

“I have to go. I'm not feeling too great. I'm sorry Mac.”, said Riley getting up from her chair. Saying those words broke her heart but she had to put space between her and Mac, otherwise he would know. He would see right through the lies.

“Riles wait!”

Stupid heels she thought and walked out the door of the restaurant as fast as she could only to find it had begun raining. Oh great. This night could not be a bigger train wreck.

She turned around to find Mac right behind her at the door. A sad expression on his face. She prayed he would forgive her for this eventually.

“At least let me give you a ride home. You dont have to say anything if you dont want to.”

Riley considered her options. She really didnt want to. But she was not going to get a cab on a Friday night in this rain. She silently nodded and followed Mac to his truck.

******

Mac was wracking his brains to figure what he could have possibly done to upset Riley this much. They had almost been hit by the Reaper drone and then almost burnt alive in that warehouse, the guilt for putting Riley through that had been eating at him ever since.

He was thinking of all the things he had done in the past month, while Riley sat silently peering out the window not even looking at him. 

He could always fix things right? That was what he did best. What was the use of all his skills if he couldn’t even fix things with Riles.

The woman who knew him better then he knew himself. She had trusted him even when everyone thought he was an enemy of the state. Even when he thought he had lost himself. She was always there. He told her things he had never told anyone before. 

Suddenly his mind went back to the moment he held her hand in that Codex compound. He had thought about that many times. Why had he done it? He was sure he was going to die and he had just put Riley at risk too. He wanted her to know he was sorry right? What other reason could there have been?

Before he knew it he had pulled up at Riley's apartment entrance. 

Riley mumbled, “Thanks for the ride Mac. I'm sorry I ruined your night”, she barely met his eye as she open the door and stepped out. 

Suddenly it struck him.

He didn't want to lose Riley. The thought hit him so suddenly it almost sucked the air right out of him. How had he not realised sooner?

It was Riles. It had always been her.

He got out the car in the pouring rain,“Riles wait.” he pleaded, “I'm so sorry.”

Riley turned around to face him.

“You dont have anything to be sorry about Mac. This isn't your fault. I just have a lot on my mind right now.” she said. 

“I do Riles. I have so much to be sorry for.” said Mac walking around the car and towards her. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to see what was right in front of me. I’m sorry i didnt realise sooner. I thought back to that day on the truck. The moment I held your hand, I realise it now, it was the first time I wasn't afraid of dying alone. I never let myself think about it. But the truth is Riles, I dont want to lose you.”

Riley had tears streaming down her face. 

Oh no. He had made a mistake hadn't he. He had completely misread the situation. Riley had never felt that way at all. He had just made things worse and now they would never be able to go back to the way things were. 

But deep down he didn't regret telling her. He had these feelings for so long. The idea of losing her had brought everything back to the surface.

“Riles, please say something.”

All these thoughts were running through his head when suddenly, Riley kissed him. He was taken aback for a second but he kissed her back. He could have stayed there in the rain forever. Just him and Riley. She wrapped her arms around him.

“I am so sorry Mac. You were right.. The truth is I was avoiding you. I thought if I distanced myself I would be able to move on and I would never have to risk our friendship. You’re my best friend too Mac and I just...” she was crying again.

Mac took her face in his hands tenderly and wiped the tears away. “Hey, hey its okay. I think we can both agree for two very smart people we can be pretty dumb”

Riley smiled. It made Mac’s heart do sommersalts.

They just stood there in the rain holding each other.

“So are we doing this then?” asked Riley breaking their embrace.

"I mean I guess your bed is big enough" said Mac with a mischievous grin. Riley smacked him, laughing and rolling her eyes.

"Not that. I meant us, dating and all that." She was blushing now.

“if you want to give this a shot? 100% Should we tell everyone though?” asked Mac. He wasn’t sure how everyone would react. A part of him wanted to just keep this between him and Riley.

“I do want to give us a shot. Maybe we should keep this to ourselves for a bit? Phoenix and relationships never seem to mix too well.” said Riley.

Mac nodded and smiled,”Yeah I like the sound of that. And if they get suspicious I guess we’ll just..”

“Improvise.” said Riley, completing Mac’s sentence. They laughed and kissed, standing there in the rain for what felt like forever.

#macgyver #macgyver fanfiction #macriley #cbs macgyver #cbs #fanfic #macgyver fandom #macrileyfanfic #rileydavis #angus macgyver

[wahbegan]

The Scary Asylum Trope (From Somebody Who’s Been Committed)

I can’t help but feel that the very loud and righteous voices of people with the best of intentions....who also have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about often overshadow those with a more nuanced and realistic view of the world because they’ve been through the shit. Especially on this site. In the real world, of course, both are drowned out by the man who both has bad intentions AND no idea what he’s talking about, but either way, the fact remains: people with first-hand experience of the ugliness of society saying shit nobody wants to hear, especially shit that makes the world a bit more morally grey and a bit more frightening than anyone would like to deal with are never listened to. 

 Although it’s often overlooked, I think we can all agree that the mentally ill and substance-addicted are among the most cast-off and overlooked members of society. Junkheads and crazies are already struggling to survive and nobody wants to give them a job, get too close to them, give them money, have them wandering the streets or coming into their businesses. Unlike other forms of oppression, one of the most insidious things about this is it’s opposed by almost nobody. “Don’t give that guy money, he’s a crackhead”, “stay away from that bum, she’s not right in the head, she’s dangerous”, “we can’t give you a job because of your history with substance abuse”, none of these statements are remotely controversial with the vast majority of people. A lot of people get angry when you say they should be or even suggest the mentally ill (not disabled, mind you, just ill) or addicted are even oppressed by society at all. Addicts, particularly. The general consensus is they ARE dangerous, they DO do illegal shit, they ARE unpredictable and unable to work reliably or have an interpersonal relationship with you, and most importantly...they brought this on themselves. This, of course, brings us to that great garbage bin of society’s dregs, the mental hospital.

Okay, so a bit of background. In Senior Year of college, I was alcoholic, cartoonishly depressed, and trying to deal with vague, unspecified shit that may have been trauma or a personality disorder or something I do not know, all I have ever been officially been diagnosed with is depression, but that doesn’t cover everything. I don’t know to this day exactly what’s wrong with me and I’ve gotten too old and used to it to really care enough to speculate. But long story short, one night I got too mouthy about a suicide attempt as I often do...to be honest, I think my crippling fear of the oblivion i believe follows death tends to manifest as loudly telegraphing my intentions to commit so that I have a chance to wake up even if I don’t chicken out at the last second...but anyway. My friend Vanessa came by my door and helped me down out of the home-made belt noose in my closet, and the cops were called. Cue being taken away in a cop car in handcuffs and 96 hours in a mental hospital without ANYONE believing any of my attempts to defend myself or even being put before a judge how’s that for due process ladies and gentlemen?

I won’t say what hospital I was in due to all the horrible shit I’m about to say about its character, but I WILL say when i first got there, many a joke was made about a then very topical certain someone who was known as a whistleblower and/or traitor depending on where you fall on the political spectrum who leaked a bunch of CIA and NSA shit. Oh, yeah, completely unrelated, did I mention I went to the University of Mary Washington in Fredericksburg, VA? Just a fun tidbit.

Anyway, I know this is slow in getting to the point, so let’s cut to the meat of the thing. From Outlast (the good one), to Arkham Asylum, to Silence of the Lambs, Session 9, Halloween, to House on Haunted Hill (the bad but enjoyable one), to that story some kid in grade school and/or your older sister wouldn’t shut the fuck up about that had an escaped mental patient who apparently the staff had deemed wise to give a pirate hook for a hand, the common consensus is: mental hospitals are fucking scary. More specifically, crazy people are fucking scary.

In recent years, as we’ve all grown a little more compassionate and people give the mentally ill at least a few months or years before they decide your shit is too much for them to deal with and throw you out like a leper, there’s been very strong pushback against this. Particularly on places like tumblr and other random blogs and op eds around the internet. It’s easy to see why. Dehumanizing the mentally ill is not only offensive to people who CAN actually generally understand and remember what you say about us, thank you very much, it’s just lazy. People like Michael Myers (no not that one the scary one) and Joker, who would NEVER see the inside of a hospital due to their clear intelligence and control over their actions, are thrown in an asylum as a cheap plot device, and classifying a character as crazy lets you ignore pesky little things like “character motivation” and “consistent characterization in general, fuckwit”. People may even praise your character for lacking those things if they’re cuh-RAZY enough. Again, Michael Myers (still not that one) and Joker.

I’m a huge fan of the pushback against the escaped mental patient with a hook trope. Having been a mental patient myself, I can assure you that almost all ANYONE wants to break out of that shit hole to do is get some good fucking food, sleep in a real bed, and pork their significant other. Mr. Pirate Hook, in a realistic version of that story, may have jumped the teen lovers for their car just to drive it to the liquor store and then his girlfriend’s house.

The problem is, and this is the main point of this giant fucking essay, that there is now also considerable related pushback against asylums being scary places. Ironically enough, this is coming not mainly from certifiable and dangerous-to-themselves-or-others type people. This pushback is coming from very well-meaning young adults with anxiety disorders and/or depressive episodes who are very sweet and god bless them I just know for a fact have never EVER seen the inside of one of these fucking places. It is coming from people who don’t want asylums to be seen as scary places because they want the mentally ill to want to go to them. To help them, ostensibly, but a tiny little cynical “fuck everyone” part of me thinks it’s more like to sweep their mess into someone else’s room so they don’t have to fucking handle it.

Now, before I continue, let me stress that the place I was in was a bit renowned for being a terrible shit hole. I’m sure my experience would have been a lot nicer at a suburban 50k a day mansion rehab for celebrities in the hills of Los Angeles. You don’t condemn all hotels in the world because of one particularly traumatic stay at the bumblefuck nowhere clown motel next to the old graveyard (yes that is a real thing), right? And unlike hotels, there’s no such thing as an asylum critic. A lot of people do NEED to be hospitalized for safety, and a lot of people DO, through one method or another, find themselves better off by the end of their stay. And I’m sure the go-to solution for any and all of life’s problems isn’t “tranq them in the ass and throw them in an isolation room” in EVERY hospital. But I get a sneaking suspicion it’s most of them. With that disclaimer out of the way, let’s continue.

Mental hospitals are the most terrifying fucking places in the world. Every time one of my well-meaning friends who’s never been committed says they think a brief hospital stint would do me good, I want to throw a blender at their fucking head. Every one of your relatively well-adjusted but probably on an anti-depressant or anxiety meds guidance counselor and social workers friends will list their good qualities until they’re blue in the face and tell you it’s not at all like the movies and there’s nothing to be scared of. It’s not like the movies, most of the time. Not exactly. But that resort and bond with people who have been through the same thing as you and time to work on yourself and group therapy and art class pitch they sell you on? Yeah, it’s bullshit.

Let’s continue with my story. When I was brought in from the main hospital, they first sent me to acute. I’ve been to county jail, and I’ve been to the acute treatment (read: high risk/high security) wing in an asylum, and I would pick county. Every fucking time. Bless her heart, my patient and long-suffering girlfriend at the time, who had been by my side for the whole process, was sitting next to me and holding my hand as they did the intake survey. They were at least compassionate enough or smart enough to know I would be a lot more placid and manageable with her around to let her stay for the intake process. Outside, the hallway was dark, one guy was on a prison-style wall-mounted phone, some dudes were playing cards, a woman was wandering up and down the hallway....and up and down and up and down and up and down the hallway. And from somewhere, someone was screaming. Not words. Just...screaming. Nobody seemed to do anything about it, see what she was screaming about. I don’t know if it was agony, misery, or fury. Maybe some combination of the three. On and on and on, with breaks seemingly only to get her breath back. I was in the acceptance stage at this point, and was busy shutting down emotional channels one by one and going into survival mode, steeling myself for my stay, but my girlfriend at the time...she looked terrified and broken-hearted. The thought of her leaving a loved one in this windowless pit (this wing, you see, was underground) destroyed her. I could tell. It would me, if I were in her situation. It is a traumatizing situation to be in. There’s no way out, nobody believes anything you say unless you tell them the worst, you can see that woman out in the hall passing back and forth and back in forth in the door window, and someone is screaming like she’s in Hell. Maybe she was.

The screaming was when I first realized an ugly truth and my morals were shaken into a grey zone: people who are mentally ill can be pretty fucking scary. Even if they’re harmless. I never saw that woman or found out why she was screaming. But in that moment, I desperately feared her and hoped I would never find out. It’s easy now for me to look back on her with compassion and pity and feel ashamed for my reaction, wish I could have helped her, but then...I was already in a fragile place. She scared me. And this leads to the next conclusion, even worse. You scare other people, and maybe it’s understandable that they’re scared. 

I deeply repress my anger. I have never in my life been violent or had the urge to be, and I don’t plan on changing that. But my anger is repressed. It can take a lot of battering before it shows itself...but when it comes out, it’s in a sudden, explosive, deep-throat scream worthy of a jump scare in a horror movie showing a protagonist is losing his mind and can’t be trusted any more. I usually only get about half a sentence out in this way before I scare myself, my eyes go wide with horror, I clap my hands over my mouth and run out of the room crying. But by then it’s too late. I got so drunk so often I forgot huge chunks of my past and have no idea what I said or did. I emotionally wounded people. I acted unpredictably. I asked to borrow a friend’s cigarette while she was DRIVING, and casually, with no warning, ground it out on my arm. My girlfriend often found me passed out through booze or asphyxiation or covered in blood. Crazy is undeniably scarier to live with than it is to witness, and I often get frustrated when it feels like people don’t remember or fully understand that. But...that doesn’t mean witnessing it isn’t fucking horrible. People were being perfectly rational to be afraid around me. Never afraid OF me, everyone who knows me knows of my physically gentle nature (with others) and desperate desire to be a good person. But they were afraid: afraid of my behavior when I wasn’t in control, of what reckless and insane shit I might do to self-destruct and/or inadvertently hurt people around me.

Thankfully, my intake survey and a nurse who noticed my relatively normal behavior both indicated I should be in the (above-ground!) high-functioning wing, so I was quickly moved there. I never figured out who that scream belonged to. But even in high-functioning...it wasn’t much reprieve. A woman shit the bed, a man fresh out of acute regaled us with stories of getting tranqed and thrown in isolation because he had barricaded himself in his room with all his furniture and berated the orderlies as they tried to force their way in about “you should really bolt the furniture down it’s a safety risk I could be killing myself in here” because he was bored. My only friend in the wing, who I really did like quite a lot and still do even though we fell out of touch, had a roommate who was always acting like she was just on the edge of doing something fucking stupid. Once, her husband smuggled her a shaving razor, which she whipped out in front of my friend, waving it around and threatening to kill herself. When my friend alerted the orderlies, this woman put it (IN ITS CASE I always feel I should clarify) up her pussy to hide it and feigned ignorance, resulting in my friend going to isolation. No tranq though. This was the high-functioning unit, after all.

Your one-on-ones with the psychiatrist were roughly 3-5 minutes in length and consisted of medication questions and asking if you were literally going to beat your head against a wall until you died in the next 15 minutes, otherwise talk about it in group. The more you insisted to this man that you were fine and shouldn’t be here and inquired about the legal status of your incarceration and when you could be released, the worse he thought you were. 

There were times to gather and talk about feelings. There was art. Some people were very good at it. Visiting hours. But most of the time was just...sitting. Sitting, bored out of your god damned skull, so bored you might just barricade your room with all of its furniture and laugh and laugh and laugh as the orderlies try to force their way in. The patient man doesn’t need to inflict physical torture to break someone. Isolation and boredom do things to the human mind, maybe sooner, maybe later, but...up there, I said hospitals make a lot of people better. They also make a lot of people worse. Then they have to stay for longer. When they’re finally released, they don’t remember how to live in the normal world and soon end up back inside. 

Just like prison. Make no mistake, the asylum is a prison. A prison where nobody believes a god damned word that comes out of your mouth. A prison for people nobody wants to deal with. A prison where they stick you with people whose crazy does NOT fuck with your crazy and you start to think maybe people are right for not wanting to deal with you after all. That’s the worst part of negative emotional reactions to symptoms of mental illness. How god damned much they remind you of yourself. The trauma I mentioned off-hand up there was that my ex from High School may or may not have abused me it’s complicated and fuzzy i don’t remember it’s not important. What is important is a new girl came in once who casually admitted to abusing her boyfriend. I backed away slowly and retreated into a private room, where my one friend had to comfort me. Later, the class clown, Mr. Barricade Tranq-in-the-Ass, made a rape joke in front of her. A rape survivor.

Everyone’s mind breaks in very similar ways, but for very different reasons and with just different enough symptoms and fears and psychotic hatreds that there WILL be people in your unit you fucking hate, whose crazy and yours grind on each other’s gears. There will be people you are afraid of, people you’re stupidly attached to for no reason other than they’re there and nice to you.

Throwing all these people in a hole and throwing away the key does not create an environment conducive to anyone’s mental health. Then, of course, there’s the treatment. Yes, like I said, if you’re willing to petition like 5 people about it and constantly remind them, you may get some good one-on-one time. You may get some good nuggets out of group therapy. You might make nice art. Mostly, though, they cut you off from the outside world and take you away from everything you love and put you with a bunch of potentially terrifying strangers and just fucking leave ya there. To rot. 

The problem with mental hospitals is the problem they’ve always had. No, obviously nobody’s head is in a cage and they don’t electrocute and lobotomize you, but the theory is the same. They want you to stop being crazy. But first, and foremost, they want to keep you there and keep you under control. That is the primary goal. Not treatment. Keeping you there and controlled. I suppose if you consider the history of asylums it’s quite humane, but I wasn’t joking up there about the tranqs in the ass.Everything from death threats to trying to pork another patient to getting too lippy with a nurse is treated with the tried and true ass-tranq isolation room. How long will you be in there? Who knows!! Until they remember they put you in there and/or the shit that you’ve smeared on the walls starts to smell. 

And all of this leads to the most horrible conclusion of all, the kind that makes people truly lose their minds if they think about it too long in that Lovecraftian/Poe kind of way where your hair turns white: maybe there is no right way to handle mentally ill people, and if there is, we sure as fuck haven’t found it yet.

The mentally ill are oppressed and deserve compassion. Love. Support. But we can also be terrifying to the mentally well, to each other, to ourselves...and forcing all of these people into a cage they don’t want to be in with strangers who they’re irritated with and scared of who are irritated and scared right back at them and leaving them in this weird, artificially constructed, regimented society until you deem them fit to leave is....ha. Well, it’s crazy!. And it is scary. And it can and often does make people worse. 

So please, don’t...don’t say mental hospitals shouldn’t be seen as scary or shouldn’t be used in horror. By all means, do it. But do it well. Look to Outlast. See, in Outlast, the set-up is very trite. Big asylum, patients escaped and massacred the staff. But you’re there on a tip that human rights abuses and clandestine experiments were being performed. Most of the inmates are doing vaguely unnerving shit but are harmless, just like a real hospital. Some are just fucking watching TV. And the game is never satisfied with “this guy’s crazy.” Walker, the ‘UGE FUCKIN GOI who everyone’s terrified of has awful PTSD and if you listen to his idle dialogue, is always muttering about containment protocol and stopping the spread of something. And by the end of the game, you realize he might not be as crazy as he seemed, and that the patients massacring the hospital staff was completely understandable and maaaybe even a little bit their own fucking fault. One guy, in an absolutely heart-wrenching and my absolute favorite part of the game, is just sitting broken in a burning kitchen talking about how this place took everything from them because nobody cares about a few abused or dead lunatics, so he’s gonna burn the whole fucking thing down.

You know what it basically comes down to? Most of the crazy people aren’t dangerous. Some are, but the ones that are have clear motivations. Crazy ones, but motivations. Almost like........ooohhh the point emerges REAL FUCKING PEOPLE! Make villains crazy. Well, all right to be honest, it wouldn’t hurt to slow down a bit on that, but I don’t want it to stop entirely. Depict asylums as the Hellish shit holes they are. But for God’s sake, just write mentally ill people like human beings. A human being you can’t understand isn’t the same thing as a non-human. Nobody does things for NO reason at all. If you’re writing a crazy villain, don’t make him evil because he’s crazy and the symptoms of his crazy are being evil; if you’re setting something in an asylum, make sure the horror doesn’t start and end with guys in straightjackets frothing at the mouth and screaming about how they want to fuck whoever’s walking past them in the aorta. 

I don’t want the truth about us, our condition, our capacity for harming those around us, or how fucked up it is how society treats us because it has no idea what the fuck it’s doing sanitized because it’s difficult to deal with and there are no clear good guys.

#mental illness #ableism

[broadwayficsandmore-blog]

Beautifully Broken

A/N: This is my first attempt at a fanfic, I hope you like it and feel free to send me requests for anything! This is Chapter 3 of I dunno how many.  You can find Chapter 1 here and Chapter 2  here

About the Story: You’re a seventeen year old girl named April Rose who is a senior. You’re best friends with Evan Hansen. This chapter switches from April’s POV to Connor’s part way through. You get learn more about Evan, Jared and Connor through their coffee drinks.

TW: Swearing

Word Count: 2,487

Chapter 3: Initiation 

“You want to be friends with Connor Murphy?” Evan practically screamed the last part. You were laying on your bed,  hanging your head off the side while Evan paced the length of your room frantically and Jared spun in circles in your desk chair.

“Yes, Evan, for the hundredth time I want to include Connor in our friend group. He needs it, don’t ya think?” You said while running your fingers through your mess of dark curls hanging off the bed.

“I mean, yeah I guess he does but...but…”

“He’s probably going to murder you, April. I mean he’s a textbook school shooter!” Jared finished Evan’s sentence for him.

“He isn’t...god, Jared could you be anymore dramatic? You should really consider theatre, you’d thrive,” you retorted. You sighed heavily as you sat up to look the two boys in the eyes. “If I recall, neither of you had friends when I started talking to you. Evan, you were too anxious to approach anyone and no one bothered to approach you. Jared, you approached everyone and they all literally ran the other direction. We all need a friend. All I’m asking is you two attempt to be there for him the same way I was for you.” your eyes dart back and forth between the two boys, waiting for one of them to protest. But they both remain silent.

“She’s right,” Jared mutters, “I’m still not sold on the idea, but there’s no harm in trying, right?” Both you and Jared turned to Evan, waiting for a response. He was fidgeting with his cast, staring at Connor’s name. Slowly, Evan began to speak as he traced the letters with his index finger.

“Yeah, I guess he deserves a chance.” You jumped off your bed and gave both boys a hug.

“Okay, tomorrow we’re all meeting at Double Shot at six, that’s when I’m off. We can all get coffee there and then come back here. And no bailing, I’ll kick your ass if you bail.” You finish with a pointed finger at each boy and a serious expression. They agreed to meet you at the coffee shop when you were done with work. The boys watched a movie with you before heading home for the night. Once they were gone, you texted Connor the plans.

You: Hey. Evan, Jared and I are getting coffee and hanging out when I’m done with work tomorrow. You wanna come?

It took about ten minutes before he texted you back.

Connor: You want me to hang out with tree boy and the human embodiment of an airhorn? You: They’re not that bad. Jared is overly dramatic and makes really shitty jokes, but he’s got his good points too. Evan has unique interests and hobbies. Connor: What could possibly be good about Jared The Meme Kleinman? You: Well, for starters he makes the most amazing molten lava cake. Seriously, that kid could have his own Food Network show dedicated to those cakes. Also he’s really good at cheering people up when they’re upset Connor: I’ll believe it when I see it. You: Will you come? Please?

Almost twenty minutes went by this time before he responded.

Connor: Yeah, I’ll come. What coffee shop? You: Double Shot, I work there so I can get you a free drink. See ya tomorrow! Connor: Cool. See ya.

You went to bed feeling accomplished. You had convinced Jared, Evan, and Connor to all hang out together. Now you just had to make sure everything went smoothly, or you’ll never hear the end of it from Jared.

//

After school the next day, you hurried to work. Most tennagers hate working, but you absolutely loved your job because you got to interact with interesting people and you were surrounded by your favorite thing in the whole world: coffee. Most days there were at least three of you on a shift after school, it was a busy time for your little shop. However, today Sabrina called in sick so there were only two of you. To say you were busy was an understatement, you and Jeremy were absolutely slammed. You never stopped moving; pulling espressos shots, toasting bagels, blending smoothies, but you still made little flowers with the milk in every drink. You kept blowing curls out of your face as they fell out of the bun you had on the top of your head.

“This totally blows,” Jeremy muttered as he wiped the counter. You finally didn’t have any customers waiting in line so the both of you took a minute to breathe. Next thing you know, “Shake It Off” by Taylor Swift starts playing over the speakers. Normally you’d cringe at a song like this, but Jeremy needed to loosen up or there was no way he’d make it through this shift without quitting. So you did the one thing you’re good at; you embarrassed yourself. You started mouthing the words and dancing around behind the counter as you cleaned blenders and mugs. Jeremy was trying desperately not to laugh, but soon he was keeling over in hysterics. Mission accomplished, you thought to yourself happily. Little did you know; Connor, Jared and Evan were watching you.

//Connor’s Point of View//

Connor arrived at the coffee shop fifteen minutes early. He kept telling himself it wasn’t because he was excited to hang out with Jared, Evan and April; just because he didn’t want to be in the house with his doting mother anymore. When he walked in, he saw a line of people waiting for drinks so he decided to wait and find a place to sit instead. As he scanned the room, he spotted Evan and Jared sitting at a table in the corner. Connor hesitated briefly, taking a deep breath before walking over to them.

“Uh, hey,” he said awkwardly as he approached the table. Evan looked at him with a small smile and Jared didn’t take his eyes off his phone as he kicked a chair out from under the table for Connor to sit down. Connor sat and stared at the table. The boys sat silently for a few minutes, everyone not sure what to say when April came over with two drinks.

“Apple Chai Latte with cinnamon for Evan, Black Forest Mocha for Jared, and Connor what would you like?” She asked after she placed the drinks in front of their respectful owners.

“House roast, please,” he said, turning slightly to April.

“Oh, come on! That’s so boring!” she groaned, putting her hands on her hips, “Spice it up a little bit!” Connor blinked a few times, not really sure what to say because he’s never had anything but black coffee.

“April picks really good drinks for people,” Evan said softly, so soft Connor almost didn’t hear him, “You could let her pick something for you?” He finished, peaking at Connor from the corner of his eye.

“Uh...sure, surprise me,” Connor responded. April nodded, then headed back to the counter to start making a drink for Connor.

“Why am I not surprised the only thing you’ve ever had is straight, black coffee?” Jared snickered just before taking a sip.

“Fuck off,” Connor muttered as he slouched in his chair. Connor felt like this was a mistake already. April probably forced these two to try hanging out with him, and they’re just here for her. Because no one cares about him, how could anyone care about Connor Murphy?

“What do….what do you think she’ll make you?” Evan’s question interrupted Connor’s self deprecating thoughts.

“How should I know?” Connor spit back, his voice thick with annoyance. He watched Evan visibly flinch at his tone, and he instantly regretted what he’d said.

“Well, April she...she’s really good at like...like reading people? Like...she always sees the good in people, and the things not even we can see about ourselves. And that shows in the drinks she makes for us,” Evan stuttered through his explanation, trailing his finger around the lid of his coffee cup the whole time.

“What did she make you?” Connor asked, genuinely curious. Evan smiled warmly just before he took a sip of his drink.

“An apple chai latte with extra cinnamon,” he said, eyeing his drink fondly.

“Why that specific drink?” Connor wasn’t sure why he was so curious about this weird kid’s drink and what it said about him as a person, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking about it.

“Well, I really like...um, I really like trees. I know a lot about trees, and apples, well, ya know they come from trees,” he chuckled nervously, glancing at Connor to see if he was listening, “and I’m not too fond of coffee, April says it’s too brash for someone like me. So she gave me chai because...because she said it’s a feel good kind of drink. And cinnamon because it’s soothing and comforting because I….I um…”

“Because you have anxiety,” Connor finished Evan’s sentence, but instead of his normal tinge of annoyance in his voice, there was understanding. Evan nodded slightly before wrapping his hands around his cup.

“How’d you...how’d you know?” Evan asked, chuckling awkwardly.

“Messed up people can read other messed up people, I guess.” Connor had been to therapy a few times before, and now he knew the signs of almost every mental illness. All of a sudden Connor realized Jared was being quiet for once. He snuck a peak at the boy to his left, expecting to find him on his phone but instead he was just staring at his drink with a blank expression.

“So,” Connor started, “What’s your mystery drink?” Jared snapped his head in Connor’s direction, like he was just pulled from a different dimension.

“Black Forest Mocha, it’s dark chocolate with raspberry and coconut. Dark chocolate is my favorite candy. April said raspberries symbolize kindness or something like that, and coconut apparently has some tie to Hinduism? I guess breaking a coconut is a self-humbling act or something, I dunno she explained it way better than that,” Jared explained nonchalantly. Connor got the feeling he was pretending the drink didn’t mean anything to him, when clearly it meant a lot. Connor smiled slightly after listening to these two explain the way April perceived them and expressed it in drink form. He didn’t realize there was so much more to these two boys, it gave him hope that maybe they were willing to learn more about him, too. Connor was pulled from his thoughts when he heard the familiar beat of a Taylor Swift song come through the speakers. It was the kind of pop music he hated but his sister loved.

“Ugh, I hate this crap,” he grumbled as her crossed his arms.

“Well, April seems to like it,” Jared said nodding in the direction of the coffee counter. Connor turned slightly to see her twirling a hand towel in her hand as she pranced around behind the counter, cleaning various dishes. Her co-worker was laughing at her performance, and Connor couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He didn’t even realize he was staring until Jared was snapping his fingers next to his ear and waving his hand in front of Connor’s face.

“Helloooooo earth to Murphy!” Jared said, trying to get his attention. Connor blinked quickly a few times, then turned back to the table.

“Sorry, zoned out for a second, I guess.” Jared and Evan were both staring intently at Connor, as if they were trying to figure out an equation.

“Holy shit,” Jared spoke quietly at first, but then practically shouted, “HOLY SHIT!” Evan jumped slightly at Jared’s sudden outburst. “You like her, don’t you?” Jared was staring at Connor with a mischievous look on his face. Connor could feel his cheeks starting to turn red.

“Shut up, Kleinman. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Connor  replied bitterly before slouching in his chair again. Evan titlted his head slightly while looking at Connor, as if he was calculating an equation.

“But you...you do like her. The way you just looked at her, you...you actually smiled,” he spoke carefully, clearly nervous about upsetting Connor who just glared at him.

“Yeah, well, you apparently love my sister and you’ve only talked to her like, what, twice?” Connor retorted, every word he said laced with ice. Evan’s face fell slightly, but he wasn’t going to back down so easily.

“She’s our friend, our very good friend, and if you like her that….that’s totally fine and all, but you have to...you have to be kind to her or she’ll never give you a chance. And don’t use stupid pick up lines like Jared, she hates that. And she really hates red roses, too. Her favorite roses are yellow, she thinks they’re happier. And she doesn’t really eat sweets, but she won’t turn down a Hershey’s bar with almonds. And she doesn’t like fancy dates, either. She’s very simple, and laid back and-” Evan stopped rambling when he glanced up and saw both Jared and Connor gaping at him. “She tells me a lot of stuff,” he concluded, shrugging slightly. Jared’s eyes darted back and forth between the other two boys before he spoke.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. Evan and Connor shared a confused look before shaking their heads. “We should set April and Connor up. Think about it! Classic bad boy meets the innocent flower child and suddenly his ice cold heart melts and he becomes a prince charming!” Jared placed his hand over his heart dramatically as he explained his thought process.

“I think April was right, you should try theatre,” Evan replied, chuckling slightly. Jared gave him a dirty look before turning to Connor.

“What do ya say, buddy? We can be your wingmen!” Connor wasn’t entirely sure what just happened, but as these two kids stared at him with kind smiles and hope in their eyes, he felt like maybe he found some real friends. People who wanted to help him, people who cared about him. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions, maybe he was being naive, but right now he didn’t really care. Because for the first time in months, maybe even years, Connor felt like maybe he had a chance at something better. A chance to be someone better.  

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good,” he replied with a crooked smile.

“What sounds good?” April asked, sitting down across from Connor, and sliding his drink across the table to him.

“Oh, nothing,” Evan started.

“Just guy stuff,” Jared finished. The boys shared a knowing look while April had an expression that looked like a mixture of confusion and relief. As Connor took a sip of his drink, he couldn’t help but think maybe his life was turning around.

#fanfic #fan fiction #dear evan hansen #deh #connor murphy #zoe murphy #jared kleinman #evan hansen #april rose #this is my first fic dont hate me #chapter 3 #beautifully broken #my writing #writing #beautifullybroken

[bwicblog]

>KUANFU: Bother Alexar.

After Kuanfu starts bragging about sleeping with Kyviar, one of Alexar's terrifying exes - and matesprit at that time - in the public chat, Alexar gets curious and tries to ask Kua his name and age. Kua responds by lying, requesting the same - and taking it to PMs when Alexar won't give him the answers he wants.

-- ayeayeCaptain [AC] is now messaging grantonCleaver [GC]! --

AC: haha, holy shit, what a name. GC: {uh} AC: i was totally going to make a joke, but you know what, dude? no. no, that's pretty cool. AC: good on you. bloodthirsty.. but adorable. adorabloodthirsty? man, my name feels totally lame, now. AC: but wait, shit, let's stay on topic. AC: how are you? GC: {uh} GC: {im fine} GC: {just you know} GC: {chillin} GC: {uh how about you} AC: awww, dude. am i making you nervous? because that is, like, totally not my intentions here. i am sorry. AC: i am currently raiding a boat! i should be doing paperwork while i am stuck down here, but. well. AC: there's nothing like the wind in your hair and blood on your deck, right? GC: {dude i dont think i know your name beyond kua and weve had like one conversation} GC: {i dont know why youre messaging me right now} AC: huh, the uh's cleared up pretty quick. AC: and i am pretty sure we have had way more than one conversation, dude. AC: isn't that why you were asking my name? GC: {pretty sure we havent} GC: {and i was just curious} AC: dude, you are so rude. like, on every level. and i know i should not take it personally, but at the same time, i am kind of hurt, considering i have been nothing but really friendly and helpful. AC: what flarp group are you part of?(edited) GC: {uh i dont remember its been ages and we changed captains and names a ton} GC: {i think once we were something like the raging boars once or something or other} GC: {yknow just flarp stuff} GC: {why} AC: because kyviar was kind of a huge fucking monster, so it's sort of weird anyone was hanging around discussing her schticks. AC: or did you all just, like, have a thing for genocidal mutants?(edited) GC: {well i mean you sort of answered your own question} GC: {she was a huge fucking monster who was a genocidal mutant} GC: {so you tell me how that didnt get the fuck around} AC: i gotta say, i never sat around talking about what the leviathan's get are up to, with their giant murder snake. everyone's always just been like "oh, shit, it's a giant snake and their horrible owner!" AC: not, like, "oh, damn, let's discuss the means of their murdering everything they can put their pink hands on!" AC: but don't get me wrong, that's a cool hobby. AC: what all did you hear about her? GC: {uh well} GC: {first of all i dont really see why youre asking me about all of this like i was just a shitty pirate flarper okay like i did that for a few sweeps and then ducked out and now i work in a bakery} GC: {second of all well i mean i heard a bunch} GC: {heard she was a mutant and wasnt afraid of it and usually tried to get people to kill her i heard she slaughtered nearly every town she went through unless they could pay up money} GC: {heard she liked to paint things black to match her blood and set shit on fire} GC: {you know the basics} AC: i don't know, dude. why'd you ask me my age and name, then refuse to give yours? AC: it makes people curious! GC: {because i was trying to remember if she had any allies or anything and that was what like} GC: {ages ago or something right} AC: and oh jeez, that's a lot. holy shit, you're a big fan. probably for the best you never met her, she'd have been so mad. GC: {at least three sweeps before she disappeared off the waters} GC: {didnt she get killed or something} GC: {its a bit murky} AC: haha, where'd you hear that? GC: {rumors} AC: nah, dude, she's totally still tooling around in space, like everyone our age. and she totally had allies! loads and loads of them. AC: but i guess that didn't get put down on your creepy fansites, right? GC: GC: {seriously?} AC: uhhh. AC: i said like three things there, dude. GC: {shes still fucking alive?} AC: haha, why do you care? GC: {shes a blackblooded mutant who got her kicks off of pirating and killing people the fact that shes still kicking it is baffling}(edited) AC: half of us got our kicks off of pirating and killing people, i just don't think that's very outstanding. GC: {you know what i mean} AC: you know what, i totally don't. AC: could you explain? GC: {wow okay fine} GC: {let me bold it} GC: {blackblooded mutant} GC: {still alive} GC: {kicking it} AC: because just between the two of us, i have to admit, i kind of am sur AC: oh shit, hold on, someone gave this pupa a gun and that's just unnecessary. GC: {haha what} AC: there we go! AC: sorry, we are back from these brief technical difficulties. AC: and it's not that weird, dude, she shouldn't have even got out of the caverns. GC: {did you just cull the shit out of a pupa while talking to me} AC: but tell you what! since you are such a fan, and you are so flabbergasted, i will AC: AC: what the fuck, no. AC: why would you even ask that? GC: {i am currently raiding a boat! there's nothing like the wind in your hair and blood on your deck, right? } AC: what sort of an asshole kills pupas? GC: {kyviar did and didnt you bang her} AC: no, i put him in the hold, and someone will put his lusus in there with him when they find it. jeez. AC: what i was going to say, before you hopped on that awful train of thought, was: AC: tell you what, i bet i could totally get you her autograph for your weird planetary fanclub, if you want. GC: {uh} GC: {sure why not} AC: great! who should she sign it to? GC: {just do gc that works well enough} AC: yeah, no, i am not going to go up to her and be like hey, please don't shoot me, i have a great idea! why don't you sign this photo and put it to gc? AC: i definitely am not going to smudge out a line and make it ac, so i can keep it on my mantle like a creep. AC: that is just something i would never do. GC: {fuck fine okay} GC: {put down something like idk} GC: {ronado} AC: you want an autograph from her to.. a fake name. AC: okay, wow, you are just steadily making this weirder. GC:{oh yeah sure im making this weird!} AC: i did not think that was possible, but that's okay. you've achieved it. good job, i think, except imagine I am totally saying that in the most concerned way possible. AC: jeez, dude, can't you even let me fujoshi transcribing before you're interrupting? GC: AC: finish. GC: {fu} GC: {fujoshi} GC: {okay so now youre the one making it weird here} AC: look, it gets ahead of itself, sometimes. GC: {you just took it into weird territory} AC: why do you even know what that word means? GC: {should i be getting an ash in here to help moderate things i feel like im being poorly pitchflirted with now} AC: i don't know what it means. AC: also, ew. i am sixteen, thanks. GC: {yeah so youre only sixteen} AC: only sixteen? AC: well, shit, how old are your usual pitchflirts? GC: {uh like ten and up usually} GC: {i dont date pupas} AC: haha, wow, i thought you were a pupa, dude. AC: are you saying you are not actually eight? GC: {no im not eight thank you very much} AC: so you are older than ten. AC: but younger than sixteen? GC: {why do i feel like im getting interrogated here} GC: {quit it!} GC: {why are you so interested in me!} AC: well, you accused me of terrible pitchflirting, dude. if that's the case, i can actually pitchflirt, and defend my pitchy honor, but i will feel morally questionable if you're under eleven.(edited) AC: that is just my own personal standards. GC: {take your pitchflirting elsewhere} GC: {im good in my quads} GC: {thank you im flattered youre interested} GC: {hit me up in like a sweep or two maybe ill have a free quad then idk idek} AC: haha, okay, you're making this weird again. GC: {you made it weird} AC: but i am starting to think that's your specialty, so that's okay. AC: you accused me of pitchflirting, man. badly. AC: all i am doing is asking questions about someone who is a creepy fan of someone that i knew, and attempting to further the fun social connection we have built. AC: after all, you have my name, my age, my creepy pirate pal's name, and my hobbies, i just thought it would be nice to know something about you, too. GC: {ok how about this we just kind of take all of this weird pitchflirty goodness and shove it into a box and close up the box and duct tape it shut and i dont know} AC: doubledots sad underscore face doubledots GC: {throw it into an industrial blender and move on} GC: GC: {what} GC: {double dots} AC: holy shit, how can i pitchflirt with you over the internet? i am not even fucking with you, i am genuinely curious. GC: { :_(: ?} GC: {oh wait} AC: like, i don't know what you look like. you could be hideous. GC: { :sad_face: }(edited) AC: no, you know - AC: yes! GC: {it doesnt fucking work} AC: yes, so why do you keep assuming it? GC: { :cry: } GC: {is that what youre trying to make} GC: {because its : cry :} AC: i don't want it crying. you do not, sadly, invoke that much emotion. GC: {also what did i just fucking say} AC: i want it frowning. GC: {put the weird pitchflirting in the box and sacrifice it to the blender} GC: {no if ands or buts} AC: AC: AC: i am not AC: AC: i am genuinely just very thrown right now! i don't even know what to say! like, honestly, i am supposed to be checking the last areas, but instead, i am standing here, one hand on my mouth, kind of just marvelling at the sheer levels of what the fuck i am feeling right now. GC: {what did i just fucking say} AC: i am not pitchflirting, holy shit. AC: what do i have to do to convince you this is entirely platonic overtures of friendship and camadery? GC: {stop being weird at me} AC: okay, fine. AC: are you going to continue hiding your name like a huge weird coward? GC: {whats yours} AC: mighty. GC: {ronado} AC: dude, you flat out admitted that is not your name. GC: {dont fucking diss my name} AC: so now we have moved onto weirdo coward who can't lie. GC: {what the fuck} AC: that is cool, i will totally just ask someone else. i'm sure someone in here knows it, right? GC: {ill go asking around too why dont i} AC: yes, sure, go ask aa. i have been pretty consistent with the mighty thing. given, you know, it is my name. AC: it's funny how not lying works.

Kuanfu does, in fact, go to ask someone else - Merrem, over in #highbloods.

AC: hey, what's gc's name? AC: if you don't know who that is, he is one of the greens.(edited) CC: who. AC: iunno, he's one of the jades! hackon cleaver. AC: wait, no, it has a g. AC: grafting cleaner? AC: grafting.. cleaver. AC: there we go, that sounds right. CC: ...huh. CC: no fucking idea who that is. CC: let me go and back read that for you. CC: aint like ive got a thing to do thats better. CC: ...why you wanna know? AC: see, this is why you are my favourite person in this chat, as of this exact moment, right now. AC: he keeps asking me questions and then, like, refusing to answer mine? it's really rude. AC: and weird. AC: he also said i am pitchflirting, and, wow, no. how are you supposed to pitchflirt on the internet, merrem? AC: it just doesn't work. AC: that's how you end up in a back alley with scabies. AC: that is a bad end. CC: damn. CC: aint that some flattery. CC: you sure he aint flirting pitch with you, and trynna accuse you of the same? CC: cause its sounding like it. CC: and alexar. BI: Scabbies... that's a new one. :thinking: BI: You leave social circles for like, two whole minutes and you miss out on all sorts of new things. CC: like the scabies? AC: god, i hope not! AC: or i guess it could be i hope so, if he's attractive, but, like, he stuttertypes. i just don't know if i can hate a man that stuttertypes. AC: and yeah, scabies are a real danger to shady internet hookups, i am told.

The discussion of scabies, shady internet hookups, and whether or not BI/Bijoux is a pale floozy continues, but in PMs:

GC: {sure why not} GC: {wait which aa} AC: uh, the brown one? GC: GC: {which aa} GC: {i think theres two brown ones} AC: AC: wow, brown is an uncreative colour. AC: the one with the really shitty quirk, dude. AC: are you a dude? GC: {theres like a billion trolls that are red or brown or yellow} GC: {also they both have shitty quirks} GC: {and yeah} GC: {im a dude} AC: and you're a jade? seriously? GC: {yeah} GC: {so what its not so weird} GC: {im living with another male jade right now} AC: uh, no, it totally is weird, sorry. GC: {or well not right now right now im somewhere else at this exact moment but you get what i mean} GC: {what} GC: {no its not} AC: are you sure you're not actually teal? AC: or olive, those blend together, too, i guess. GC: {uh yeah no im pretty sure im jade} GC: {like right smack middle jade} AC: huh. GC: {like this is our standard chrome for jade jade} AC: post pics, because that totally sounds like bullshit, and i am betting you are actually teal. AC: which, it's okay to be teal, dude. AC: is it an ugly colour? yes. GC: {only if you post pics first} GC: {im not fucking teal} GC: {im jade} AC: but it's your colour, so you should embrace it. GC: {super jade} AC: of course you are, dude. GC: {jade as jade can be} AC: i am just saying, it's okay to have a little green in your veins. it doesn't mean you're not blue. GC: {im jade} AC: doubledots sigh doubledots GC: { :sigh: } GC: {listen you fucking suck at this}(edited) GC: {thats not a real emoji either} AC: at least i am trying to accept myself for who and what i am, a proud cobalt who cannot use a computer, unlike some of us. AC: that is a cutting reference to the fact you hate your own blood colour, by the way. GC: {what are you illiterate or something} AC: or are ashamed. GC: {i dont hate my blood color} AC: shame is an option, too, i guess. GC: {okay hold up asshole} AC: more sad, but. GC: {hold on} GC: {because fuck you fuck you is why}

--grantonCleaver sent fuckyouiswhy.png, of a picture of his unbandaged hand that got spiked during his fight with Hadean. It's looking a bit gross because you know, WOUNDS but it's clean and also unmistakably jade.--

AC: huh! AC: nice filter. is that a wound the nine sweep old gave you, or are you fighting with other pupa's, too? GC: {oh holy shit} GC: {i just gave you photographic proof} GC: {and youre still calling shit on me} GC: {kua} AC: what can i say, i know enough about computers to call bullshit when i see it. AC: and i just don't think i know you well enough to be on a last name basis, dude, i am going to have to ask you to stick to mighty. GC: {might fucking sucks} GC: {so does kua} GC: {get better names} AC: wow! AC: at least i have names. AC: did you have everyone on your ship call you ronado, too? GC: {yeah absolutely} AC: man. so cabin jade ronado. that's kind of a mouthfeel. AC: can i call you ronnie? GC: {weird but sure} AC: was the work hard? GC: {uh on my flarping ship?} AC: yes, being a cabin boy.(edited) GC: {wasnt a cabin boy thank you very much} GC: {it was good and hard yeah no different than being on any other flarping pirate ship} AC: hahaha AC: suuuure. AC: what did they call it, then? ive only been on real ships, so i don't know the terms. AC: deck swabbed? AC: lookout? GC: GC: {its literally the same terms} GC: {literally the exact same terms}(edited) AC: uh, no, sorry. AC: maybe they tell you that, to make you feel better about playing pretend. GC: {i was first mate asshole} AC: huh. AC: so a glorified cabin boy. GC: {ok now youre being a dick and stupid} AC: you're right, alexar. that was just me being a total bulgemunch, and it is also a sign that i should probably go sit down, take a breather and wash this blood off, because it is unkind of me to take my frustrations out on you, an innocent, complete stranger on the internet. AC: it is wrong, and i am sincerely apologetic for having done so, dude. AC: so, like, light. GC: GC: {uh light}

-- ayeayeCaptain [AC] is no longer messaging grantonCleaver [GC]! --

-- ayeayeCaptain [AC] is now messaging grantonCleaver [GC]! --

AC: also, i totally do know you, you dumb fuck.

-- ayeayeCaptain [AC] is no longer messaging grantonCleaver [GC]! --

#c:alexar #c:kuanfu

[420710ge-blog]

my first entry

all of these entries will be more or less stream of consciousness

Im watching queer eye. SO I felt like writing a blog and starting a blog bc im emotional and severely depressed. ( if the fab 5 could re vamp me and my life omg)

I'm trying to grasp this concept that i am 28 years old

and i STILL have no idea who the fuck I am or what the fuck am i gonna do.

what i do know is I am a single. I am straight-ish haha (no one is straight these days eff lables and gender norms) I live in a basement. The neighborhood I live in isnt the best in my opinion for me. I know I enjoy cities and hustle and bustle and noise. this area is not where i want to spend a long period of time in. I have my drivers license but dont have a car. I'm on a fixed income. I am very very poor. I've been struggling with money my whole life. My mother was struggling with money and work my whole childhood ive come to learn. i feel like my mom maybe didn't give me all the right tools i needed to make it in this world.

I'm not a good cook, but i enjoy cooking and wish I was good. I eat very unhealthy. I dont know how to shop for groceries or clothes. i eat fast food,microwaves meals and snacks, cheese and crackers, cereal, deli sandwhiches, pb & j, fruit snacks, ice tea, juice and water. (thats basically it unless i go out to eat which is bad bc i have no money for it.)

i cannot grasp the concept of money i dont know how to budget or balance a check book or keep track of spending. i need to put money a side and save and i just cant seem to do it. The money is always being used. i feel like im always in debt or owing money that i never get in front of this wave to start earning actual income every dollar i make is always spoken for and the $1 to 80 dollars that i actually get left over is for cleaning supplies hair products medication condoms tampons pads basically things i need. and im honest in saying i do spend money on food and great craft beer bc its my way of treating myself for actually making a payment or actually getting out of bed, for going hungry for a few days or for having a good mental health day.

My hobbies include filling out job applications, fighting with doctors and secretaries, bill collectors debt collect companies and creditors, watching youtube videos, vloggers and youtubers on my phone and my freinds old old laptop the basement has pretty difficult internet connection and it is freezing cold but other than that its nice it works its a place to sleep and shelter, other hobbies are watching movies and tv, and lastly SLEEP. i sleep 10-14 hours most days or i go 2 days without sleep. i am always over sleeping or i just cant turn my brain and stress and anxiety off just to shut my eyes and sleep. I almost never talk with friends or see other people or go out and hang with friends. the only times i do go out is if someone offers to pay for me or otherwise i cant.

i am addicted to social media. i cant go for more than 15 seconds without checking instrgram or snap chat or youtube or facebook. i can easily spend 11 hours going back and forth between those 4 sites. it is very bad for my mental health and its stunted my success bc i cant help but compare myself. and its vicious negative cycle that i cant seem to break.

i have to walk or use uber or lyft or public transit to get around which gets very expensive over time. walking and being out waiting for the bus or train is very triggering for my mental health. People who are fortunate to have the luxury to own or lease a car please realize the people who cannot afford a car or cannot drive for whatever reason are not second class citizens. People and humans are very nasty and rude and more terrible than youd imagine. having to walk everywhere and be in with the public as much as i have turns you into a cynical abrasive aggresive hateful and rageful person. for example a few weeks ago a car turned on the street that i was walking on and the walk sign was lit and he had a yellow switching to a red, her turned quickly to beat the light that he didnt see me or the walk sign and was inches away from me so i ran after his car and punched the shit out of the passenger window. i spazed out like that bc i had a week of walking in the freezing cold (and living in a super cold place) being rained on and splashed by the puddles being ran thru by cars, teenagers on busses making fun of me throwing things at me, people in cars yelling shit at me and the others standing at a bus bc we dont have a car and we have to wait in the cold assuming that we were all bums or homeless.

I am not happy or passionate about things i use to be obsessed with. I grew up loving comedy. stand up sketch improv.

i use to perform. i would go see it all the time it meant the world to me it is what i wanted t0 do with my life.

but now I dont and i think its was stupid. and a waste of time. same with college it was a waste of time and money to get a degree in something i have no passion about anymore. and a degree in something in which there are no jobs for you.it was terrible decision i made. one of the billions of terrible decisions i ahve made in my life

I have zero self confidence and i barely care what my appearance looks like anymore. i glance in mirrors but never really look at myself. I dont look people in the eyes anymore. I think so hard about what i am saying for i say that it comes out more often that not weird or incorrect bc i am so worried about what others are thinking about me so then that leads to me getting made fun of for how i talk or how i say things. I am always the butt of my friends jokes im always being poked fun at or pranked or messed with.

I dress like 15 year old skate kid. i have nothing that is appropriate for like an office or an audition  or job interview or business meeting or family event or a formal event or cocktail party. i dont know how to dress for my age or for my gender. 

I am super lazy and messy but i have been working on it.

i use cannabis recreationally not everyday but definitely multiple times a week. when i can afford it. it helps clear my head and use the same way a person uses a nice glass of wine at the end of a long day. i dont think its wrong or inhibiting me as a person. sometimes it even helps with motivation and helps get me out of a depressive funk.

I am severely depressed and have an anxiety disorder.

I over think about everything. i make plans and lists for every scenario that i am going to encounter on a daily basis its almost obsessive. my train of thought before entering a conversation with anyone is “do not say anything weird dont look at them for to long, dont fidget, omg what are they thining about when they are looking at me, am i ugly and i coming off as weird or immature or nervous.” 

I lost alot of very important people in my life bc of death or from people and friends and family just cutting me off and people to live the rest of their lives without me. it makes me judge and hate everyone.

I am constantly worried that i am gonna become homeless live on the streets and become a junkie. I actually think about this so so so much. i actually shocked from what i have been thru that i havent become a junkie yet.

I dont want what most white women in their late twenties want and crave. i dont relate or most girls in my age range. its hard for me to find things in common with my peers.

I dont want to buy or own a house. renting forever is fine by me

I do want to buy and own a car preferably a truck but a small suv could work too.

I dont want a family. I dont want children my own or adoptive. I dont want to live in the suburbs or in a neighborhood with tons or old people and families.

i dont want marriage i think its problematic and dumb thing to subject yourself to.

i enjoy soccer and skateboarding and true crime movies and tv shows and horror movies and tv shows.i like some funny things but its selective. i love the sims.

i want to try out living in other states in the us and maybe even try living in the uk.

if i was rich i would want 2 small apartments in central city locations on both coasts of the us one on one and one on the other. and ill use my money to travel. i am craving to travel so badly its all i have been thinking about lately. but again no funds

i want to meet someone who just totally sweeps me off my feet. somone who knows how to be a real man and real boyfriend im tired iof these boys i need a guy who calls me out on my bs, gives constructive criticism, incredibly supportive and KIND. i want our respectfulness to be at an 100%. i want to feel worshipped and adored. i want them to be succesful and be able to bring me up and boost me forward. great listener. not sleepy or annoyed very easily. insane dark weird goofy sense of humor. id love them to be outgoing and be able to command a room and be comfortable around people new and old. great sex and adventures. currently im giving my ex a chance and its prolly a terrible idea.

i want a makeover i want to learn how to dress myself correctly and figure what my style is, make money and keep money, how to cook, how to skateboard, how to surf, how to take care of my skin and my hair. I want to learn how to work out where i wont make my current ailments and injuries and medical issues flare up and put me out of business for few days. id like to have toned arms back shoulders and legs and to not be winded dont everyday tasks.

if i had to make a dream cocktail. and the final result would be the new me i would throw in the blender: confidence of a drag queen, the wit and sharp tongue of joan rivers, the comedic timing of sean hayes, riley reids sex skills, the intelligence and maturity of michelle obama, pinks hair and singing skills, kat dennings body and dgaf attitude. that would be the perfect me in my eyes.

I want to make everyone proud of me. and I want to be proud of myself. 

idk what this was but its on the internet

-GE

#selfhelp #depression #anxiety #stress #comparing #addiction #social media #i wanna get better