Good evening to me
Since I've gotten some new followers: "Good ___ to me" indicate long personal posts. You don't have to read them ofc, they're mostly for me down the line.
This is kind of a weird one, it's mostly reflective stuff today. I don't usually make these without a lot of negative or at least melancholic emotions to work through. Regardless, I want to stop writing about the recent ex, but a lot of this is going to be tangential to her, so she'll pop up a few times. However, I want to focus on some personal thoughts that I've been thinking about.
Here's a song.
Right at the end of February, I took an OCEAN test or a "Big Five Personality" test. This is actually unusual among personality tests, it is actually supported by Psych research. Results tend to not change over a long period of time, etc. etc. You can take it yourself here, and be sure to share with me your results! I'd love to see them. In the meantime, here are my results:
The Extraversion and Openness to experience being so high is unusual, I think. It means a lot of what makes me comfortable involves art and people, or perhaps as an extension of that, expressing myself and communicating. With this context in mind, I've started to look back at my personal history. Moments where I'm sad or melancholic, I tend to write. When I was very young, it started with poetry, but now it has evolved into these journal entries. And I guess the reason I prefer to make them public is because of that extraversion, that longing to communicate with people my ideas or emotion.
Speaking of, I found a bunch of old notebooks the first week of March. So I've been reading through them all. And by a lot, I mean a lot:
And then, even older notebooks.
You can tell these are older because I doodled things on them. I never doodle anymore.
The first batch, the moleskins and stuff like that are primarily journals. Or at the very least, notes on what happened. The one that is open actually started 4 days after the ex 8 years ago. After a week of being sad and noting every single thing that has been happening, it abruptly jumps 8 months to me complaining about something else because I was not a very consistent note taker.
Meanwhile the one with the bird on it is actually a poetry notebook, before I started preferring to write exclusively online aka in the tumblr editor. The last poem written in there is Sucks. Then I stopped writing poetry for a very long time, and a lot of my writing energy became these journal entries, as well as other stuff on this blog, usually regarding anime.
The older notebooks, the spirals, are pretty much all poetry notebooks back from middle school and early high school. Though there's a few where I just doodled a bunch. They date all the way back to end of middle school.
But the poems SUCK. Like they're REALLY BAD. Most of them are actually on DeviantArt however, so they actually had an audience. Had.
I enjoyed looking through them. Interestingly, a lot of the love poems in them are reference to my first first girlfriend in middle school/high school. There was even a photo of us from back then, which was a big surprise. I don't remember much from her other than, well, making out a lot. I liked making out. I still do, but it started there.
We were a problem. We made out on all the band trips home. We would be late to band practice because I had brought her to a quiet corner of the school to just make out with her straddling me or me grabbing her butt. We made out so much in the practice rooms that the band directors ended up putting up signs in the band room saying to limit PDA ("no purpling" I think is what they said).
But I digress. I don't know her anymore. And she has such a common name that I wouldn't be able to stalk her if I wanted to.
Here's an indie song I just learned about and have recently been obsessed with.
I already kind of feel normal. I have spikes down but I've started waking up at 7/10 instead of 3/10 and winding up. 7/10 is about my default state. 10/10 is like... On a date with a girlfriend who I know is excited to be with me. 1/10 is trying to decide if life is worth living. 7/10 is "would dance to One Direction if it started playing right now".
I had a moment about a month after the break up where I just had a really bad breakdown. It was a combination of some more bottled up thoughts about the relationship that I had trouble finding a reason to write down or tell anyone and how poorly I had been taking care of myself and my surroundings because of my mental state. And I told it all out to a very old friend of mine. She comforted me but she said something that has made me feel better the most since the break up happened.
"But the fact that you're here, telling me this in this moment, just shows how much you cared and how much you can care for people."
It made me feel better. A lot better.
My capacity to care.
I care about a lot of things, very deeply, and often for very little reason. Stuff like the most efficient route to work, or my specific boba order that tries to get the "most drink per drink." How I tend to pause and stare at the sky for no real reason other than it's there and I won't see another like it. How I overthink things and memorize useless things. But this is the first time that that I've been told and thus realized, that it is no weakness or weirdness.
It's a strength. It's just me. A tremendous capacity to care.
I've been holding on to that ever since. I hope I don't forget it. Because from my old poetry and journal entrees, I tend to let girls and myself gaslight me into thinking that me caring about them so much, "too much" is a fault of my own. It isn't.
It isn't. It isn't. It isn't.
It is simply me.
But anyway.
I've started talking to a new girl. I've made it clear I just got out of a relationship, just to be fair to her, and tbh I'm not super certain on her, but it feels like I just want to see where this goes. I just really really want to meet people right now.
I think I have always had this fetish for nostalgia. Where I couldn't fall in love with anyone who I hadn't known for a long time. I think I learned about this very recently, and was why I was so aromatic until I re-met the ex. When I realized it, I started thinking I needed to grow out of it in some way. Especially if I'm actively trying to meet someone new. It's not that I wouldn't open up to people, I've always been a chronic oversharer (see, um, this entire tumblr post series), but rather I wouldn't feel supremely comfortable with people until I knew them for years.
But then a friend told me that my music taste is nostalgia. After I linked her that song I just linked. Because a lot of songs I send to her have this nostalgic feeling, even between different bands, genres, languages. Sometimes it's sad nostalgia, sometimes it's happy nostalgia, but it's definitely a longing for something deep and sentimental.
And I had just learned about that song.
This changed my feelings towards my "nostalgia fetish." I don't think I am looking for people who I have known for years. It just so happens that lot of my closest friends are that because I'm old and that's just how friends are when you're old. But I think it's moreso I'm looking for someone who has this same sentimentality. This same depth of emotion when looking at something old or close to them. My fetish for nostalgia isn't nostalgia for the person, but nostalgia in the person.
At least, I hope so.
Whatever, I'm looking forward to meeting new people.
Last song.
Many years ago, I remember the first time I felt normal after that break up. It was like 10 or 11pm and I was bringing someone home. They lived in Round Rock but I lived in downtown Austin, since I was a UT student at the time. After dropping them off, I still had like a 20 minute drive and I had just learned that The Summer Set's album, Legendary, had a deluxe edition, which that song I just linked is a part of. I look them up on youtube and hit play.
And on that drive home I found peace, somehow. I remember stopping before getting to the highway, next to a unkempt grassy field, and standing there, looking at the sky. I missed the sky and stars. I missed that hour drive home from her house when it was getting dark and you could see the constellations because I was between 2 medium sized cities. I missed that bumpy road that seemed perpetually under construction and twisted and winded and didn't make sense. I was a lonely boy who didn't have a place that felt like home and didn't know where he was going to end up. But I knew and, at least in that moment, was fine with it.
I still am that boy. But that constantly under construction road got finished in the past 8 years. That starry sky was gone, I noticed, from our drives to Austin together—too many small towns and buildings had popped up, too much light pollution. I thought I found a place person like home but it was a dusty extended stay motel that I ended up staying at for 5 months, with too high of a rent and a crummy landlord.
Last time I felt over her, I remember saying that my daydreams no longer had a girl on my shoulder. I felt really aromatic. Really antisocial. I became an island. And I don't know if I'm trying to replace her or what, but I don't think that will happen this time. I might be fine without a partner, but I know I am better with one. I know I'm ready.
For anything, really.
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Hi there, as an epileptic person I’m so happy to see your changes to Shadowsight’s character (I was SO disappointed that they removed his seizures!) and that you have a whole section dedicated to it in the medicines overview! It means so much to me to have such genuine representation. The only little note I have is that the technical term for a grand-mal seizure is “tonic-clonic,” not clonic-tonic! Other than that you have some really great and well-researched information ^^
Oh shoot, I didn't realize the order was important! Can you tell me why it should be tonic-clonic and spelling it as clonic-tonic should be avoided, so I can share?
With Shadowsight and Sorreltail, I did my research by looking at educational not-for-profits and trying to make sure to listen to firsthand accounts of what it's like to have it, so that the portrayal was more based in life than medical journals. I'm pretty sure I have an old post floating around somewhere with a bunch of sources and links, in addition to the herb guide you saw.
It really is such a shame they did that with Shadowsight specifically :/ you're not the first to pass through thanking me for putting his epilepsy back. I was recently revisiting the earlier books of TBC to answer an ask (ballooned into an essay) and, man, seeing all the setup, with what I know now, utterly wasted is just devastating.
What I mean is, in Book 1, they're describing his auras from his perspective and how there IS a difference between his seizure-visions and his Ashfur-visions. They're establishing that he DID always have epilepsy, it's just ASHFUR that's new. That was a MAJOR hint that something was wrong! The epilepsy was always part of him, but the possessions weren't!
But then, in Book 4, the team unceremoniously decides that no, it was Ashfur all along. Even the seizures. GoodBYE epilepsy! It was literally just a magic spirit.
Though the "seizures give visions" trope is a bit problematic on its own (like "Blind Seer"), I feel like it's even worse to set up representation, and then just yank it away midway through an arc. Like they couldn't just have him lose the visions but keep the seizures.
Frustrating. But, well, this is MY kitchen and I get to decide the disability rep.
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“What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr Darcy!”
“It ought to be good,” he replied, “it has been the work of many generations.”
“And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books.”
“I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these.”
This conversation is intriguing because, as is often the case in P&P, there is so little narrative framing or comment that you have to make quite a few assumptions based on how you read the characters. We don’t even hear Elizabeth’s reaction to this interchange and don’t know how she takes it (though when Darcy later tries to talk to her about books, she’s sure that their tastes are so wildly different that they won’t have anything to talk about).
In any case, both fans and critics have come away with a lot of different interpretations of Darcy’s book-buying sprees and, in particular, what he means by “such days as these.”
I just read an article that dismissively characterized it as a stuffy civilization-is-falling-down-around-us-in-these-degenerate-times thing showing the basic conservatism of his mindset, and while that article was particularly hostile, it’s a pretty common reading. And you can read it that way, but frankly, it doesn’t seem the most natural reading in the context of either the scene or his overall characterization.
Darcy is repeatedly associated with books and reading and general intellectualism. The Pemberley library links his family pride and his sense of legacy with his personal inclinations—as an individual, he’s bookish, clever, and fairly cerebral. He reads, he buys new books, he enjoys philosophical debates, his response to Elizabeth’s assertion of their different tastes in books is “cool, then we can argue about them :D”, he encourages his teenage sister’s artistic interests and defends her disciplined approach to them when she’s not even there, he collects fine and apparently borderline-incomprehensible paintings, he’s dismissive about the expected accomplishments of upper-class women in favor of reading (partly bc Elizabeth has been reading, but it’s not surprising that a man responsible from age 23 for the education of a young girl has Thoughts on the ongoing female education debates of the time).
All of this is to say that Darcy is engaged with what was then contemporary culture and discourse. This is especially the case if you go with the time of his creation, 1796, but it doesn’t make a huge difference because these debates were still ongoing in the 1810s, and he rarely refers to specific figures and instead prefers more generally familiar concepts and arguments (or chooses to rely on those in conversation with women), and in any case, the English artistic movements of the 1810s owed a lot to those of the late eighteenth century.
And a big eighteenth-century debate was about the merits of modern art, especially literature, compared to ancient art. Historically, there was a lot of deference in English literature to ancient models and dictates, and controversy over newer forms like the novel (in English) but also in poetry and drama and essays. To some people, it seemed like art was going horribly astray by diverging from the ancients (despite the continuing strong influence of Classicism). Others thought the artistic movements of the time were fucking awesome valuable and important, which is generally Austen’s position (most famously in the defense of the novel in NA).
So when Darcy speaks of “such days as these,” I don’t think this is coming from snooty disengagement from the current literary zeitgeist, but rather, the reverse. He’s seeing all these ideas being hotly debated in various essays and treatises, and the English novel taking modern form, and poetry undergoing changes that will only become more drastic, etc etc, and thinks—this is important. Anybody with a family library should be adding the literature that’s coming out at this time.
TL;DR I think Darcy has an affinity for modern art/literature/culture in any case, but also, is so convinced of the importance of the literary “moment” he’s living in that he thinks he’d basically be shaming his ancestors if he didn’t include it in the collection that he’ll pass down to the next generation as it was passed to him.
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